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quarta-feira, 30 de outubro de 2013

Respecting the right to access to medicines: Implications of the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights for the pharmaceutical industry

Suerie Moon
What are the human rights responsibilities of pharmaceutical companies with regard to access to medicines? The state-based international human rights framework has long struggled with the issue of the human rights obligations of non-state actors, a question sharpened by economic globalization and the concomitant growing power of private for-profit actors (“business”). In 2011, after a six-year development process, the UN Human Rights Council unanimously endorsed the Guiding Principles advanced by the UN Secretary General’s Special Representative on Business and Human Rights, John Ruggie. The Ruggie Principles sought to clarify and differentiate the responsibilities of states and non-state actors—in this case, “business” —with respect to human rights. The framework centered on “three core principles: the state duty to protect against human rights abuses by third parties, including business; the corporate responsibility to respect human rights; and the need for more effective access to remedies.”1
The “Protect, Respect, and Remedy” Framework emerged from a review of many industrial sectors operating from local to global scales, in many regions of the world, and involving multiple stakeholder consultations. However, their implications for the pharmaceutical industry regarding access to medicines remain unclear. This article analyzes the 2008 Human Rights Guidelines for Pharmaceutical Companies in relation to Access to Medicines advanced by then-UN Special Rapporteur on the Right to Health, Paul Hunt, in light of the Ruggie Principles. It concludes that some guidelines relate directly to the industry’s responsibility to respect the right to access to medicines, and form a normative baseline to which firms should be held accountable. It also finds that responsibility for other guidelines may better be ascribed to states than to private actors, based on conceptual and practical considerations. While not discouraging the pharmaceutical industry from making additional contributions to fulfilling the right to health, this analysis concludes that greater attention is merited to ensure that, first and foremost, the industry demonstrates baseline respect for the right to access to medicines.
What are the human rights responsibilities of pharmaceutical companies with regard to access to medicines? The state-based international human rights framework has long struggled with the issue of the human rights obligations of non-state actors, a question sharpened by economic globalization and the concomitant growing power of private, for-profit actors (“business”). In 2011, after a six-year development process, the UN Human Rights Council unanimously endorsed the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights advanced by the UN Secretary General’s Special Representative on Business and Human Rights, John Ruggie. The Ruggie Principles (for brevity) sought to clarify and differentiate the responsibilities of states and non-state actors—in this case, “business”—with respect to human rights. The framework centered on three core principles: “(a) States’ existing obligations to respect, protect and fulfill human rights and fundamental freedoms; (b) The role of business enterprises as specialized organs of society performing specialized functions, required to comply with all applicable laws and to respect human rights; [and] (c) The need for rights and obligations to be matched to appropriate and effective remedies when breached.”2
The “Protect, Respect, and Remedy” Framework emerged from a review of many industrial sectors operating from local to global scales, in many regions of the world, and involving multiple stakeholder consultations. However, their implications for the pharmaceutical sector remain unclear.
What do these guidelines imply for the pharmaceutical industry, particularly regarding access to medicines as a part of the human right to health? What is the difference between the baseline responsibility to “respect” and other responsibilities or socially desirable practices? What are the implications of this framework for norms articulated elsewhere regarding the responsibilities of pharmaceutical companies in relation to access to medicines, in particular the 2008 Human Rights Guidelines for Pharmaceutical Companies in relation to Access to Medicines advanced by then-UN Special Rapporteur on the Right to Health Paul Hunt (the “Hunt Guidelines,” for brevity)? Finally, what are the implications for the respective responsibilities of States and business, including in the proposed Framework Convention on Global Health?3
This article begins with a discussion of access to medicines as a human right, describes the “Protect, Respect, Remedy” Framework, and then addresses these questions through an analysis of the “Hunt Guidelines,” followed by a discussion of broader implications.
Evolution of access to medicines as a human right

Access to essential medicines has gradually come to be recognized as part of the human right to health, enforceable under both international and national laws.4-6 I use the term “essential medicines” to refer broadly to the World Health Organization concept of essential medicines, defined as:
[T]hose that satisfy the priority health care needs of the population…. selected with due regard to public health relevance, evidence on efficacy and safety, and comparative cost-effectiveness…[and] intended to be available within the context of functioning health systems at all times in adequate amounts, in the appropriate dosage forms, with assured quality and adequate information, and at a price the individual and the community can afford.7
For the sake of brevity, I use the term “medicines” to refer broadly to health technologies such as drugs, diagnostics, vaccines, and other healthcare devices. The UN Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (CESCR), authoritatively recognized access to medicines as a means of fulfilling the right to health in General Comment 14.9
Paragraph 43 of General Comment 14 stated clearly, for the first time, that state parties are obliged “to provide essential drugs, as from time to time defined under the WHO Action Programme on Essential Drugs” and “to ensure equitable distribution of all health facilities, goods and services.” Violations of a state’s obligation to respect the right to health include, inter alia, “the failure of the State to take into account its legal obligations regarding the right to health when entering into bilateral or multilateral agreements with other States, international organizations and other entities, such as multinational corporations.”9 Finally, General Comment 14 makes specific reference to non-state actors in paragraph 42:
While only States are parties to the Covenant and thus ultimately accountable for compliance with it, all members of society—individuals, including health professionals, families, local communities, intergovernmental and non-governmental organizations, civil society organizations, as well as the private business sector—have responsibilities regarding the realization of the right to health.
However, no further detail was provided regarding non-state actors’ specific responsibilities.
The explicit discussion of access to medicines in General Comment 14 should be understood against the historical background of the late 1990s. During that period, a number of actors began to advocate for the importance of access to medicines, particularly in relation to the HIV/AIDS pandemic and the expected negative impact of the World Trade Organization (WTO) 1994 Agreement on Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights (TRIPS) on the availability of low-cost generic medicines.10 In particular, TRIPS required all WTO members to adopt a minimum standard of intellectual property (IP) protection in their domestic laws, such as 20-year patent terms for medicines. It effectively required Members to adopt the IP standards of industrialized countries, which meant many developing countries would have to introduce patents on medicines for the first time. Bilateral or regional free trade agreements also often contained IP provisions that were more stringent than TRIPS, such as longer patent terms or other forms of market exclusivity.
Over the course of the next decade, a relatively strong and stable norm emerged regarding access to medicines in developing countries, particularly (but not only) regarding access to drugs for HIV/AIDS.11 This norm is reflected in a broad range of political declarations, civil society initiatives, academic publications, and the discourse and practices of governments, intergovernmental organizations, and the pharmaceutical industry. For example, donors spent unprecedented billions of dollars to provide HIV treatment in developing countries; by the end of the decade, over 90% of HIV medicines in developing countries were generics; and more than 60 developing country governments made use of flexibilities in the TRIPS Agreement to authorize the use of generic versions of patented drugs in their countries.12,13,14
The pharmaceutical industry, particularly research-based, patent-holding multinational firms, has been both a major target and an influential shaper of this emerging norm. Civil society organizations, experts, governments, and intergovernmental organizations regularly call on the industry to adopt certain access policies or practices  The industry is explicitly named in the 8th Millennium Development Goal, which includes as a key target: “In cooperation with pharmaceutical companies, provide access to affordable essential drugs in developing countries.”  Indeed, often in response to public pressure or expectations, most of the twenty largest multinational firms and a handful of the large generic firms have adopted a wide array of ‘access policies.’15
Such policies might include licensing other firms to produce lower-cost generic versions of their patented drugs, reducing prices of their own drugs in lower-income markets (“tiered-pricing”), conducting R&D into diseases that predominantly affect the poor, making product donations, or other similar practices. A 2012 study by the International Federation of Pharmaceutical Manufacturers’ Associations reported 220 “health partnerships,” 36% of which focused on increasing the availability of treatments in developing countries.16
In short, over the past decade, the norm that access to medicines formed an integral part of the right to health became widely accepted, including—at least in part—by the multinational pharmaceutical industry. However, whether such firms had specific human rights obligations or responsibilities with respect to access to medicines remained a murky question.
At the same time as the emergence of the access norm, a parallel effort was taking place to clarify norms regarding the human rights obligations of businesses more broadly. Events such as deadly clashes between local communities and multinational oil companies in the Niger Delta highlighted the urgency of identifying more effective ways to respond to human rights violations related to business. The questions were particularly vexing in areas where poorly resourced developing country governments were challenged by large firms with daunting financial, political, and technical resources, or where states were unwilling or unable to fulfill their obligations to respect, protect, and fulfill the rights of their own populations. When states were weak or failing, should businesses be bound to step in, to self-regulate, or to provide essential public services?
Efforts in the 1990s to agree upon a set of human rights obligations for business resulted in a set of Draft Norms on Transnational Corporations and Other Business Enterprises, prepared by a sub-committee of experts at the UN Human Rights Commission. However, Ruggie argued that these norms had two conceptual shortcomings: first, they ascribed responsibility for a subset of rights to business, raising the question of why some rights should be considered more important than others; second, in doing so, they made both states and business responsible for the protection and fulfillment of some rights, creating a confusing conflation of roles. The Draft Norms, he wrote, “emphasize precisely the wrong side of the equation: defining a limited list of rights linked to imprecise and expansive responsibilities, rather than defining the specific responsibilities of companies with regard to all rights.”1
Ultimately, the Draft Norms were not supported by enough governments, and were never endorsed by the Human Rights Commission. Instead, the Commission began a new process in 2005 by mandating Ruggie, as Special Representative of the Secretary General to first merely “identify and clarify” existing norms and practices, and ultimately, to develop a new normative framework.17 Over the following six years, Ruggie developed the “Protect, Respect, Remedy” framework through a series of studies, international consultations, meetings, and field-testing.
A central principle underpinning the framework—and what distinguishes it most sharply from the preceding Draft Norms—is that states and business do not have the same obligations. While reaffirming that states have the primary responsibility to respect, protect, and fulfill human rights, Ruggie argued, “as economic actors, companies have unique responsibilities. If those responsibilities are entangled with State obligations, it makes it difficult if not impossible to tell who is responsible for what in practice….While corporations may be considered ‘organs of society’, they are specialized economic organs, not democratic public interest institutions. As such, their responsibilities cannot and should not simply mirror the duties of States.”1
The Principles reaffirmed the primary responsibility of states to protect human rights, including against potential abuses by business, and focused on two types of responsibilities for business: respect and remedy. Ruggie explained the concept of “respect” as follows: “In addition to compliance with national laws, the baseline responsibility of companies is to respect human rights….To respect rights essentially means not to infringe on the rights of others—put simply, to do no harm.”1 He continued, “There are situations in which companies may have additional responsibilities—for example, where they perform certain public functions, or because they have undertaken additional commitments voluntarily. But the responsibility to respect is the baseline expectation for all companies in all situations.”1
What emerges from this description is an implicit two-tier framework, in which the company’s responsibility to respect is fundamental; other activities may be socially desirable and important for fulfilling the right to health, but are secondary. The primacy of the principle of “respect”— doing no harm—has important implications for the responsibilities of pharmaceutical companies. (Note that ‘respect’ may still require positive measures, and does not necessarily imply passivity; for example, an anti-discrimination policy might require pro-active recruitment programmes.1) Furthermore, a key question arises regarding the extent to which pharmaceutical R&D and production should be considered “public functions” implying additional responsibilities (discussed below).
The second key part of the Ruggie Principles applicable to companies is the concept of “remedy.” Ruggie argued, “the corporate responsibility to respect requires a means for those who believe they have been harmed to bring this to the attention of the company and seek remediation, without prejudice to legal channels available.”1 Finally, the Principles discussed what is required to operationalize respect and remedy within a firm, with emphasis on clear policies, due diligence, high-level leadership, and transparency.  Ruggie noted, “Companies need to adopt a human rights policy. Broad aspirational language may be used to describe respect for human rights, but more detailed guidance in specific functional areas is necessary to give those commitments meaning.”1 He continued that due diligence is required: “a process whereby companies not only ensure compliance with national laws but also manage the risk of human rights harm with a view to avoiding it….basic human rights due diligence process should include the following: Policies, Impact Assessments, Integration, Tracking Performance.” Finally, “Where human rights and other public interests are concerned, transparency should be a governing principle, without prejudice to legitimate commercial confidentiality.”1 This guidance has concrete implications for what “respect” for access to medicines may mean in practice.
What does this framework imply for the pharmaceutical industry?
The pharmaceutical industry and its access to medicines responsibilities: The Hunt Guidelines

Ruggie’s mandate (2005-2011) overlapped with that of Paul Hunt (2002-2008), the first UN Special Rapporteur on the right to health, an independent expert mandated by the Human Rights Council to explore a special theme or country situation. Among a range of topics, Hunt sought to clarify norms regarding the pharmaceutical industry and access to medicines.
In this capacity, Hunt reaffirmed the conclusion of General Comment 14 that the obligation of states to make essential medicines available was immediate and not subject to progressive realization.19 However, he found that while “the human rights duties of States in relation to access to medicines were reasonably clear….the nature and scope of pharmaceutical companies’ human rights responsibilities in relation to access to medicines were not clear,” and that the CESCR had not elaborated on General Comment 14 to provide practical guidance to industry.20
At the same time, Hunt argued that the pharmaceutical industry could both positively or negatively affect access to medicines, noting, “Ministers, senior public officials and others have argued that the policies and practices of some pharmaceutical companies constitute obstacles to States’ implementation of the right to the highest attainable standard of health,”  for example, through their pricing, research and marketing practices.20 Hunt argued that ensuring access to medicines was a “shared responsibility” between public and private actors, and that pharmaceutical companies had an “indispensable role to play.”19
While he included both patent-holding (“innovator” and “biotechnology”) and generic pharmaceutical companies in his review, Hunt argued that patent-holders had a special set of obligations: “Society has legitimate expectations of a company holding the patent on a life-saving medicine. In relation to such a patent, the right-to-health framework helps to clarify what these terms, and expectations, are. Because of its critical social function, a patent on a life-saving medicine places important right-to-health responsibilities on the patent holder. These responsibilities are reinforced when the patented life-saving medicine benefited from research and development undertaken in publicly funded laboratories.”21
Hunt released a set of draft Human Rights Guidelines for Pharmaceutical Companies in Relation to Access to Medicines in September 2007 for public comment. In August 2008, after receiving input from states, investors, pharmaceutical companies, academics, and civil society organizations, the amended and finalized guidelines were submitted to the UN General Assembly.20
Some companies strongly objected. In response to Hunt’s report on a visit to GlaxoSmithKline, the company issued a statement that “the ‘right to health’ is an important issue, though not well defined, especially as it relates to non-state actors. Therefore we do not accept the suggestion—implicit in the development of this Report—that GSK’s programme and ongoing commitment is in any way required by international legal norms, whether in human rights or other areas.”22 In a similar vein, Merck’s representative remarked, “we feel the approach to define guidelines specific to the pharmaceutical industry is misguided and will not result in meaningful improvements.”23
The 47 guidelines cover a broad range of areas, including transparency, management, lobbying, research, patenting and licensing, and pricing. Notably, Hunt made clear that the guidelines were exhortatory rather than obligatory, stating:
[T]he Guidelines do not use the peremptory word ‘must’, but the more modest language ‘should.’ In other words, they deliberately avoid some of the most controversial doctrinal questions (such as, ‘are businesses legally bound by international human rights law?’)… the central objective of the Guidelines is to provide practical, constructive and specific guidance to pharmaceutical companies and other interested parties, including those who wish to monitor companies and hold them to account.20
How can this guidance be seen in light of the “Protect, Respect, Remedy” framework, which was finalized three years later?
Reading the Hunt Guidelines in light of the Ruggie Principles

The Hunt Guidelines and the initial version of the Ruggie framework were both issued in 2008. Hunt noted that “the Guidelines are consistent with and complementary to the helpful analysis recently provided by the Special Representative of the Secretary-General on the issue of human rights and transnational corporations and other business enterprises.”20 Indeed, the Hunt Guidelines and Ruggie Principles both unequivocally place primary responsibility for human rights protection and fulfillment on states, while also ascribing to business certain responsibilities. However, revisiting the Hunt Guidelines after the Ruggie Principles were finalized casts them in a new light. More concretely, the Ruggie Principles underscore the importance of distinguishing between companies’ responsibilities to respect human rights, and any other activities they may engage in to contribute to fulfilling human rights.
In a 2012 article, Joo-Young Lee and Paul Hunt explicitly recognized that the Hunt Guidelines extended beyond the responsibility to respect. They argued that patent-holding pharmaceutical companies had additional responsibilities, because by carrying out research and development of potentially life-saving medicines, they performed a “public function,” which Ruggie said may imply further responsibilities (see above).24
Nevertheless, it is useful to distinguish between those guidelines that primarily relate to the responsibility to respect and those that may relate to additional responsibilities, for the following three reasons. First, if “respect” forms the baseline, then it is important to ensure that companies are indeed living up to this most fundamental responsibility. Ruggie has argued that “because the responsibility to respect is a baseline expectation, a company cannot compensate for human rights harm by performing good deeds elsewhere.”1 For example, if a pharmaceutical company successfully lobbies to undermine flexibilities in patent rules or other cost-containment policies necessary to ensure widespread population access to a medicine, but then offers a voluntary price discount on that medicine, it should not be lauded for the pricing policy. Rather it should be recognized as having ‘done harm’ by undermining the state’s efforts to protect its population’s right to health.  The Hunt Guidelines cover both of these policy areas—recommending that firms abstain from lobbying that undermines the right to health and that they offer voluntary price discounts for lower-income populations—but do not make clear that carrying out the latter does not absolve the firm from abiding by the former. Distinguishing between the responsibility to respect and other responsibilities helps to clarify such situations and focus attention on the most fundamental responsibilities of industry.
Second, conflating the responsibilities of state and non-state actors risks detracting attention away from state obligations, making it easier for governments to shirk their own obligations.  As discussed below, several of the Hunt Guidelines seem to fall squarely under the obligations of states to protect the right to health. In other cases, relevant health objectives are more likely to be sustainably and reliably achieved with decisive state action, rather than through non-binding exhortations on firms. To be clear, this is not to discourage or devalue socially desirable actions taken by pharmaceutical companies, but rather to ensure that attention is not detracted from the clear responsibilities of states.
Finally, as Hunt has noted, the guidelines are a useful tool for “those who wish to monitor companies and hold them to account.”20 But the limited resources of civil society organizations, journalists, and other watchdog entities underscore the importance of getting the baseline right, allowing such groups to focus their energies on holding companies accountable for at least their most basic human rights responsibilities, and governments for theirs.
Based on the premise that there is an important conceptual distinction between the baseline responsibility to respect and other responsibilities, I analyzed what the principle of “respect” may mean in practice for the pharmaceutical industry.  This review of the 47 Hunt Guidelines found that each could be placed into one of four categories:

1) Respect: Guideline clearly falls under the responsibility to “respect”;
2) Protect: Guideline more aligned with the state duty to protect;
3) Gray Area: Guideline fell into a gray area involving both “respect” and “protect”;
4) Fulfill: Guideline more aligned with state duty to fulfill right to health.
I discuss each of these in turn.
Respect: Concrete implications for the pharmaceutical industry

Over half the guidelines clearly fell under “respect.” Among these were the first four guidelines that recommend that companies “should adopt a human rights policy statement,” “integrate human rights…into the strategies, policies, programmes, projects and activities of the company,” “should always comply with the national law of the State where it operates, as well as any relevant legislation of the State where it is domiciled,” and “should refrain from any conduct that will or may encourage a State to act in a way that is inconsistent with its obligations arising from national and international human rights law,” including the right to health. These guidelines align closely with the principle of respect and Ruggie’s recommendations on how to operationalize it.
Furthermore, transparency is central to the Ruggie Principles, and is important for due diligence and effective remedy. Several of the Hunt Guidelines (6-8) explicitly address transparency, stating, “…the company should be as transparent as possible. There is a presumption in favour of the disclosure of information, held by the company, which relates to access to medicines.” Guidelines 10-13 lay out recommendations for management (“clear management systems, including quantitative targets”) and monitoring and accountability (companies should establish a “publicly available policy on access to medicines setting out general and specific objectives, time frames, reporting procedures and lines of accountability,” “a governance system that includes direct board level responsibility and accountability,” and “publish a comprehensive annual report, including qualitative and quantitative information.”)  These measures enable both the firm and third parties to assess the extent to which a firm is respecting the right to access to medicines, and as such falls clearly under the principle of “respect.”
In addition, guidelines 21-22 concerning the conduct of research state, “A company’s clinical trials should observe the highest ethical and human rights standards, including non-discrimination, equality and the requirements of informed consent. This is especially vital in those States with weak regulatory frameworks….The company should conform to the Declaration of Helsinki on Ethical Principles for Medical Research involving Human Subjects, as well as the World Health Organization Guidelines for Good Clinical Practice.” Finally, with respect to patents, the guidelines (26-29) state that companies “should respect the right of countries to use, to the full, the provisions in the Agreement on Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights (TRIPS) (1994), which allow flexibility for the purpose of promoting access to medicines, including the provisions relating to compulsory licensing and parallel imports,” “should respect the letter and spirit of the Doha Declaration on the TRIPS Agreement and Public Health (2001),” and, recognizing the WTO extension until at least 2016 for Least Developed Countries, the company “should not lobby for such countries to grant or enforce patents.” These guidelines advocate against doing harm (for example, through weakening public policies intended to protect access to medicines), and are therefore closely linked to the principle of “respect.”
Overall, guidelines pertaining to the adoption of human rights policies, transparency and information disclosure, adherence to national laws or widely-accepted international standards, ethical research, and state use of patent law flexibilities, fall under the umbrella of the principle of “respect” and seem to be reasonable expectations of pharmaceutical companies.
Protect: Beyond the baseline – additional responsibilities for business…or for states?

However, a number of the guidelines espouse additional responsibilities that extend beyond the notion of “respect.” These guidelines raise questions on the relative responsibilities of states and firms. Unless additional responsibilities can be conceptually differentiated from baseline responsibilities, there is a risk of confusing the roles of states and firms and of weakening state and firm accountability. Some of the guidelines seemed to fall clearly under the state duty to protect, rather than under the private sector’s responsibility to respect. For example, guideline 8 calls on companies to establish an independent body “either alone or in conjunction with others…to consider disputes that may arise regarding the disclosure or otherwise of information relating to access to medicines.” Such a body, which has not yet been created, would be critical for determining whether rights have been violated and how to remedy such violations effectively.  Similarly, guideline 14 calls on companies to “establish an effective, transparent, accessible and independent monitoring and accountability mechanism” to “hold the company to account” for adhering to these guidelines. Yet, it is unlikely that the establishment of an independent monitoring mechanism is (or can credibly be) the responsibility of the company, rather than that of the state or civil society.
Gray areas: Respect, protect, or both?

In other cases, guidelines seem to fall squarely into a gray area, involving both the state duty to protect and business responsibility to respect. Such guidelines call on firms to refrain from certain actions that would undermine access (‘do no harm’), but are likely to require state action, especially when significant profits are at stake.  In their critical analysis of the Hunt Guidelines, Anand Grover (the Special Rapporteur on the right to health immediately following Hunt) and colleagues argued that since private firms have an obligation to their shareholders to maximize profit, non-binding guidelines will be insufficient to ensure respect when a firm’s adherence to such guidelines runs directly counter to profit maximization.25
For example, guideline 18 recommends that firms adhere to international quality standards in pharmaceutical production. Business compliance with national laws clearly falls under “respect,” and manufacturing quality drugs so that sub-standard medicines do not harm patients could be understood as ‘doing no harm.’ However, since adherence to quality standards is costly, firms face powerful incentives to take shortcuts on quality to increase profits, especially when competing for thin profit margins.  Thus, it is widely accepted that states need to exercise strong regulatory authority over pharmaceutical production. Similarly, guidelines 39-41 call on companies to promote medicines in an ethical manner, such as by making information on side effects easily accessible. This responsibility is directly related to transparency and could easily qualify as “respect.” However, states generally regulate the promotion of medicines due to major information asymmetries between producers and consumers. Firms have strong incentives to downplay side effects or to market their medicines for indications beyond those approved by a regulatory body, as both measures can increase sales and profits. Ethical medicines promotion is more likely to be achieved by focusing on the state’s regulatory responsibilities, such as mandating the type of information that firms must disclose or restricting marketing for off-label use.
Another example is provided by guidelines (17-19) which state that a company “should disclose all current advocacy and lobbying positions, and related activities, at the regional, national and international levels that impact or may impact upon access to medicines” and “should annually disclose its financial and other support to key opinion leaders, patient associations, political parties and candidates, trade associations, academic departments, research centres and others, through which it seeks to influence public policy and national, regional and international law and practice. The disclosure should extend to amounts, beneficiaries and channels by which the support is provided.” On the one hand, transparency is a reasonable, core expectation of pharmaceutical companies; on the other hand, lobbying is politically sensitive,  and when successful it can produce policies that enable significant profits. Therefore, it seems unrealistic to expect firms to adhere to this guideline in the absence of binding state regulations, which would fall under the state duty to protect. Similarly, guidelines 31 and 32 call on firms to “waive test data exclusivity” and refrain from applying for patents “for insignificant or trivial modifications of existing medicines” in low- and middle-income countries. Both of these measures can strengthen the monopoly on a medicine and thereby increase profits. Averting such expanded monopolies (and related price increases) is more likely if states simply disallow data exclusivity and patents on trivial modifications of existing medicines in their national laws, as allowed under TRIPS.26,27
Fulfill: What are reasonable expectations for companies and states?

Finally, in other cases, the guidelines outlined areas where proactive company action would be socially desirable (e.g. neglected disease research, voluntary licensing, pricing), but seemed conceptually closer to “fulfilling” the right to health than “respecting” it. In such cases, it is worth noting that the responsibility to fulfill human rights falls primarily on states, and conducive public policy is likely to be required to shape firm behavior towards fulfillment. For example, guidelines 23-25 call on firms to contribute to neglected disease R&D. However, while firms may engage in some neglected disease research, by definition these diseases are ‘neglected’ because they have no commercial prospects; overall investment into neglected diseases is unlikely to be sufficient or sustainable unless states build conducive policy frameworks (such as “push” financing or “pull” incentives to subsidize costs and/or mitigate risk).28,29
Similarly, while guideline 30 calls on firms to issue voluntary licenses on all medicines in low- and middle-income countries, firms are unlikely to do so if it will significantly hurt their bottom-line. Since middle-income countries are projected to be the major source of revenue growth for the industry in the coming decade, it is highly unlikely that for-profit entities will voluntarily sign away monopoly rights in these countries. Along the same lines, guidelines 33-38 recommend that firms ensure that “all medicines manufactured by the company, including those for non-communicable conditions” “are affordable to as many people as possible” through, inter alia, voluntary price discounts to those with lower ability to pay (tiered or differential pricing), voluntary licenses, and donations.30 While company efforts to decrease the price of medicines are welcome, ensuring that price is not a barrier to access falls far beyond the responsibility to respect—in some cases, this would imply negative prices for the poorest populations; nor do the policies prescribed in the guidelines necessarily ensure affordability.31
Rather, ensuring affordability falls under the obligation of states to protect and fulfill the right to access to medicines, and is arguably more likely when governments decisively deploy a range of policy tools for this purpose, such as price negotiations, price controls, generic promotion, compulsory licensing, competition-enhancing policies, and subsidies. In particular, for the most lucrative medicines in the fast-growing (but highly unequal) middle-income countries, affordability is unlikely to be achieved without decisive public policy.
Indeed, a number of these “gray area” guidelines aim at policy objectives that are unlikely to be achieved without state action. In such cases, a practical approach would emphasize state obligations  rather than the private sector’s responsibilities.
In summary, firms may reasonably be expected to take voluntary measures on R&D, licensing, or pricing when sizeable profits are not at risk, such as in the poorest countries or for certain drugs. However, they are unlikely to do so for major markets. This challenge has been clearly demonstrated in the difficulties the Medicines Patent Pool has faced in convincing companies to include the most lucrative middle-income markets, such as China and Brazil, in the scope of its voluntary licenses for HIV medicines.32
States need to provide both carrots and sticks to change the cost-benefit calculation for firms to induce them to adopt certain access-enhancing policies. Where profit potential is significant, ensuring respect for (and fulfillment of the right to) access to medicines will require state action rather than voluntary firm behavior alone.
Many of the Hunt Guidelines for pharmaceutical companies fall under the Ruggie principle of “respect,” but some fall into a gray area or even ascribe to private actors the obligations that—for both conceptual and practical reasons—would better be ascribed to states.
Admittedly, there is significant room for debate on some of these guidelines. Does the argument that state action is required to meet certain health objectives imply that companies do not have certain responsibilities? Not necessarily. Here we return to Lee and Hunt, who argued that because of the “public” nature of the functions carried out by pharmaceutical companies, namely the development and production of essential medicines, certain additional responsibilities apply. For example, as noted, lower prices or neglected disease research would both contribute to fulfilling the right to health. Reasonable arguments could be made either that these are “additional responsibilities,” or that they fall short of “responsibility” and are merely socially desirable. However, this article has not focused on the distinction between “additional responsibilities” and other measures. Lengthier analysis of each guideline would be required to achieve greater clarity on whether certain measures cross the conceptual threshold between a “non-responsibility” (albeit one that may be socially desirable) and an “additional responsibility.” Rather, the key conclusion is that distinguishing between baseline and additional responsibilities is critical to ensure that industry meets its fundamental responsibilities to respect rights.
Indeed, greater clarity on the respective duties and responsibilities of states and pharmaceutical companies is needed. Ensuring business responsibility to respect as a fundamental baseline can sharpen the focus on the most important expectations of firms. Much attention has been paid to industry’s pricing, licensing, and neglected disease research efforts. Such attention is often accompanied by high praise, which at times is quite justifiable.  However, there is insufficient information and debate regarding the ways in which firms may lobby to undermine state capacities to protect access to medicines, such as by advocating for restrictive trade agreements or the unethical promotion of medicines. Much greater attention is merited to the extent to which the industry meets its baseline responsibilities.
This analysis has primarily focused on the notion of “respect,” but further consideration of “remedy” is also merited. In a 2010 article following up on the guidelines, Hunt and Khosla concluded that the pharmaceutical industry was failing to live up to its human rights responsibilities and called for an independent accountability mechanism, to be created by civil society if states and firms were unwilling to do so.33 Grover and colleagues have also pointed to the absence of such a mechanism as a key weakness in implementing the norms contained in the guidelines.25 Indeed, a major point of the Ruggie Principles is that measures to provide redress to injured parties or to prevent the reoccurrence of abuses have received too little attention. There are few institutions for remedying a pharmaceutical company’s actions to restrict access to medicines to a population. Building a more robust system to ensure industry respect for access to medicines will require greater attention to institutions for remedy—a key issue for future analysis.
Finally, what does this analysis imply for the proposed Framework Convention on Global Health (FCGH)? One of the objectives in developing the FCGH is to clarify the responsibilities of various actors. However, while the importance of clarifying the responsibilities of non-state actors is recognized, published materials have not included a detailed discussion of what obligations, if any, private for-profit actors may have within an FCGH.34 Applying the Ruggie Principles would imply reinforcing the call for States to fulfill their obligations to protect the right to health when business activities may be undermining it. With regards to access to medicines, this could mean adopting the actions included in Hunt’s 2006 analysis of state responsibilities, such as making use of TRIPS flexibilities to ensure affordability of medicines and refusing to join any international agreement that would impinge on such flexibilities.19 It also implies taking action to ensure that business respects the right to health, including passing national legislation to give more binding force to the responsibilities articulated here, such as disclosure requirements on R&D investments, tax benefits, marketing  and lobbying activities, and pricing policies. Binding national laws requiring disclosure, especially if disclosure applies to worldwide operations, are particularly promising as the information can have global impact even if only a few states implement such laws. One of the core challenges of the FCGH proposal is to convince states to negotiate and create new binding obligations on themselves and on the firms domiciled in their territories—a tall order in a world of competitive states and firms. However, if even a strategic handful of states negotiated an FCGH and passed disclosure and transparency requirements, the global public goods nature of information would mean that such data would be available for the benefit of all populations and countries. Overall, integrating norms on the responsibilities of business into the FCGH concept could significantly strengthen its promise as a tool for improving global governance for health.
Finally, further research, analysis and debate is required, especially to clarify the “gray areas” where both states and the pharmaceutical industry may have responsibilities, and how to define “additional responsibilities.” Furthermore, this article has focused on pharmaceuticals, but many other industries can also have profound health impacts, both within the health sector (e.g., health insurance, private hospitals) and outside it (e.g., food and beverage, oil and mining, tobacco, arms, manufacturing, finance).  Further analysis is needed on the implications of the “Protect, Respect, Remedy” framework for these industries in relation to the right to health.
I am grateful to Steven J. Hoffman, Amy Kapczynski, John-Arne Røttingen, John G. Ruggie, the participants of the American University Washington College of Law’s February 2013 Conference on Intellectual Property and Human Rights, two anonymous peer reviewers and the guest editors (especially Eric Friedman), for helpful conversations and/or insightful comments on earlier drafts of this article. All opinions, errors, and omissions remain my own.
Suerie Moon, PhD, MPA, is Research Director and Co-Chair of the Forum on Global Governance for Health at the Harvard Global Health Institute in Cambridge, MA. She is also a lecturer in the Department of Global Health and Population at the Harvard School of Public Health, and is Project Co-Director, Innovation and Access to Technologies for Sustainable Development, in the Sustainability Science Program at the Harvard Kennedy School of Government.
Please address correspondence to the author: Suerie Moon, 104 Mount Auburn Street, 3rd Floor, Cambridge, MA 02138, email: smoon@hsph.harvard.edu.
1. J.G. Ruggie, Special Representative of the Secretary-General on the Issue of Human Rights and Transnational Corporations and Other Business Enterprises, Protect, Respect and Remedy: A Framework for Business and Human Rights, UN Doc. No. A/HRC/8/5 (2008). Available at http://daccess-dds-ny.un.org/doc/UNDOC/GEN/G08/128/61/PDF/G0812861.pdf?OpenElement.
2. J.G. Ruggie, Special Representative of the Secretary-General on the Issue of Human Rights and Transnational Corporations and Other Business Enterprises, Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights: Implementing the United Nations “Protect, Respect and Remedy” Framework, UN Doc. No. A/HRC/17/31 (2011). Available at http://daccess-dds-ny.un.org/doc/UNDOC/GEN/G11/121/90/PDF/G1112190.pdf?OpenElement.
3. L.O. Gostin, “A Framework Convention on Global Health: Health for all, justice for all,” Journal of the American Medical Association
307/19 (2012), pp. 2087-2092.
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(Geneva: World Health Organization, 2012), pp.1-12.
5. H.V. Hogerzeil, M. Samson, J. V. Casanovas, and L. Rahmani-Ocora, “Is access to essential medicines as part of the fulfilment of the right to health enforceable through the courts?” Lancet
368 (2006), pp. 305-311.
6. E. Friedman and L. Gostin, “Pillars for progress on the right to health: Harnessing the potential of human rights through a Framework Convention on Global Health,” Health and Human Rights: An International Journal
14/1 (2012), pp. 4-19.
7. World Health Organization, “Essential Medicines.” Available at http://www.who.int/topics/essential_medicines/en/.
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21 (2003), pp. 325-371.
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10. E.‘t Hoen, J. Berger, A. Calmy, and S. Moon, “Driving a decade of change: HIV/AIDS, patents and access to medicines for all,” Journal of the International AIDS Society
14/15 (2011).
11. W. Hein and S. Moon, Informal norms in global governance: Human rights, intellectual property rules and access to medicines
(Aldershot, UK: Ashgate, 2013).
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(Seattle: Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation, 2011).
13. B. Waning, M. Kyle, E. Diedrichsen, et al., “Intervening in global markets to improve access to HIV/AIDS treatment: An analysis of international policies and the dynamics of global antiretroviral medicines markets,” Globalization and Health
6 (2010).
14. E. ‘t Hoen, The global politics of pharmaceutical monopoly power: Drug patents, access, innovation, and the application of the WTO Doha Declaration on TRIPS and public health
(Diemen, The Netherlands: AMB Press, 2009).
15. MSCI ESG Research, Access to medicine index 2012
(Amsterdam: Access to Medicine Foundation, 2012).
16. International Federation of Pharmaceutical Manufacturers and Associations, “Developing world health partnerships directory reflects pharmaceutical industry’s and partners’ commitment to improving health in developing countries” (News release, September 11, 2012). Available at http://www.ifpma.org/fileadmin/content/News/2012/FINAL_IFPMA_press_release_-_partnerships_-_11_September_2012.pdf.
17. J.G. Ruggie, Just business: Multinational corporations and human rights
(New York: W.W. Norton, 2013).

18. Special Rapporteur on the right of everyone to the enjoyment of the highest attainable standard of physical and mental health. Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights. (Accessed 5/18/2010, 2010, at http://www2.ohchr.org/english/issues/health/right/).
18. P. Hunt, Report of the Special Rapporteur on the Right of Everyone to the Enjoyment of the Highest Attainable Standard of Physical and Mental Health, UN Doc. No. A/61/338 (2006). Available at http://daccess-dds-ny.un.org/doc/UNDOC/GEN/N06/519/97/PDF/N0651997.pdf?OpenElement.

19. P. Hunt, Report of the Special Rapporteur on the Right of Everyone to the Enjoyment of the Highest Attainable Standard of Physical and Mental Health, UN Doc. No. A/63/263 (2008). Available at http://www.who.int/medicines/areas/human_rights/A63_263.pdf.
21. P. Hunt, Report of the Special Rapporteur on the Right of Everyone to the Enjoyment of the Highest Attainable Standard of Health, Paul Hunt, Annex: Mission to GlaxoSmithKline, UN Doc. No. A/HRC/11/12/Add.2 (2009). Available at http://www.who.int/medicines/areas/human_rights/A_HRC_11_12_Add_2.pdf.
22. GlaxoSmithKline, “GlaxoSmithKline statement in response to Paul Hunt’s report on GSK,” (June 2009). Available at http://198.170.85.29/GSK-response-to-Paul-Hunt-report-June-2009.pdf.
23. J.L. Sturchio, “Response from Merck & Co., Inc. (to Human Rights Guidelines for Pharmaceutical Companies in Relation to Access to Medicines),” (February 29, 2008). Available at http://www.merck.com/corporate-responsibility/docs/access_developing_response_feb08.pdf.
24. J. Lee and P. Hunt, “Human rights responsibilities of pharmaceutical companies in relation to access to medicines,” Journal of Law, Medicine and Ethics
40/2 (2012), pp. 220-233.
25. A. Grover, B. Citro, M. Mankad, and F. Lander, “Pharmaceutical companies and global lack of access to medicines: Strengthening accountability under the right to health,” Journal of Law, Medicine and Ethics
40/2 (2012), pp. 234-250.
26. C.M. Correa, Guidelines for the examination of pharmaceutical patents: Developing a public health perspective
(Geneva: International Centre for Trade and Sustainable Development, World Health Organization, United Nations Conference on Trade and Development, 2007).
27. C.M.Correa, Protection of data submitted for the registration of pharmaceuticals: Implementing the standards of the TRIPS agreement
(Geneva: The South Centre, 2002).
28. WHO Consultative Expert Working Group on Research and Development: Financing and Coordination, Research and development to meet health needs in developing countries: Strengthening global financing and coordination
(Geneva: World Health Organization, 2012).
29. S. Moon, J. Bermudez, and E. ‘t Hoen, “Innovation and access to medicines for neglected populations: Could a treaty address a broken pharmaceutical R&D system?” PLoS Med
9/5 (2012), p. e1001218.
30. IMS Institute for Healthcare Informatics, Global use of medicines: Outlook through 2015 (Parsippany, New Jersey:  IMS Health, 2011).
31. S. Moon, E. Jambert, M. Childs, and T. von Schoen-Angerer, “A win-win solution?: A critical analysis of tiered pricing to improve access to medicines in developing countries,” Globalization and Health
7 (2011).
32. Medicines Patent Pool, “Licenses in the pool 2013.” Available at http://www.medicinespatentpool.org/licensing/current-licences/.
33. P. Hunt and R. Khosla, “Are drug companies living up to their human rights responsibilities? The perspective of the former United Nations Special Rapporteur (2002-2008),” PLoS Med
7/9 (2010), p. e1000330.
34. Joint Action and Learning Initiative on National and Global Responsibilities for Health, Preliminary answers to 5 priority questions on the Framework Convention on Global Health (February 2012). Available at http://www.jalihealth.org/documents/FCGH%20priority%20questions%20website%20launch.pdf.
35. R. Laing, B. Waning, A. Gray, et al., “25 years of the WHO essential medicines lists: Progress and challenges,” Lancet 361/9370 (2003), pp. 1723-1729.
36. S.P. Marks, “Access to essential medicines as a component of the right to health,” in A. Clapham, M. Robinson, C. Mahon, and S. Jerbi (eds), Realizing the right to health, Swiss Human Rights Book
Vol. 3 (Zurich: Rüffer & Rub, 2009), pp. 80-99.
37. United Nations Development Programme, Human development report 1999
(Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1999).
38. United Nations Development Programme, Human development report 2000: Human rights and human development
(Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2000).
39. United Nations Development Programme, Human development report 2001: Making new technologies work for human development
(Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2001).
40. UN Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, Statement of the UN Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights to the Third Ministerial Conference of the World Trade Organization, Seattle, November 30-December 3, 1999, UN Doc. No. E/C.12/1999/9 (1999). Available at http://www.unhchr.ch/tbs/doc.nsf/(Symbol)/68300503f197ef528025683b004fbbae?Opendocument.
41. UN Sub-Commission on Human Rights, Intellectual Property Rights and Human Rights, UN Doc. No. E/CN.4/SUB.2/RES/2000/7 (2000). Available at http://www.unhchr.ch/Huridocda/Huridoca.nsf/0/c462b62cf8a07b13c12569700046704e?Opendocument.
42. S. Gruskin and  Z. Raad, “Are drug companies living up to their human rights responsibilities? Moving Toward Assessment,” PLoS Med 7
(2010), p. e1000310.




domingo, 27 de outubro de 2013

The Framework Convention on Global Health: A tool for empowering the HIV/AIDS movements in Senegal and South Africa

Ella Scheepers
Despite the Alma Ata-inspired slogan “health for all by 2000,” the world remains afflicted with poor health in the second decade of the 21st century.1 This situation has generated much debate, and as a result, national and global responses have arguably entered a new era, building on the past success and failures of health movements, most notably on the back of the global HIV/AIDS movement.2
This article aims to contribute to the existing knowledge around a Framework Convention on Global Health (FCGH) from the perspective that any international legal framework conceptualisation on the right to health must involve those whose health is at stake. In order to achieve this analyses of the role played by civil society, who aim to give a voice to those unheard in the halls of state power, are vital for any discussion around the international right to health framework.
The two case studies, Senegal and South Africa, were used to look at the current status of the international right to health framework, specifically in the context of the civil society’s role in combating the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Through this, the article explores the possible role of an FCGH in empowering the HIV/AIDS movements in the protection and promotion of the right to health in Africa.
The findings discerned that African states face different challenges regarding the realization of the right to health in the context of HIV/AIDS. However, the important role played by civil society in this realization is highlighted in both cases. They emphasize the diverse roles that an FCGH could play in empowering civil society, through the formulation of a global standard and framework on the right to health, in the form of an FCGH, particularly if it is as a result of a movement of rights education and advocacy from below.3
Despite the Alma Ata-inspired slogan “health for all by 2000,” the world remains afflicted with poor health in the second decade of the 21st century.4 The state of health has generated much debate among activists worldwide.5 As a result, national and global efforts on the realization of the right to health have entered a new era. These efforts build on the past successes and failures of health movements, most notably the global HIV/AIDS movement. Within this context, the need for innovative solutions to the challenges facing public health has seen the rise of a new vision for the right to health within the international legal framework. The concept of a Framework Convention on Global Health (FCGH) has emerged out of these debates.
This article aims to contribute to the existing knowledge around a FCGH. It examines the role of civil society in the realization of the right to health, and explores the possible role of an FCGH in empowering the HIV/AIDS movements and those working in the health sector in the protection and promotion of the right to health in Africa.
The article examines two case studies, Senegal and South Africa, and examines lessons learned from HIV/AIDS movements in realizing the right to health in the context of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. It goes on to illustrate how an FCGH could be effective in this context. Importantly, the case studies show that in situations where the social and political contexts are widely divergent, an FCGH could have great impact by outlining a comprehensive set of standards around which civil society can unite. Much of the power of the FCGH would be in its potential to extend those standards around which HIV/AIDS activists have mobilized for years. The response to HIV/AIDS  has resulted in real strategic planning for HIV treatment and prevention, but the FCGH could expand standards, planning, and responses to other areas of health systems that have  received less attention. The HIV/AIDS response and its relationship to the FCGH will be explored below, following a brief introduction to the concept of an FCGH.
A FCGH builds on a large body of international and domestic legal frameworks. The current international framework on the right to health is characterized by vague rights in various conventions. Some of the most obvious examples of right to health articles include: Article 12.1 of the International Covenant on Economic Social and Cultural Rights recognises ‘the right of everyone to enjoyment of the highest attainable standard of physical and mental health’; Article 55 of the UN Charter states to ‘promote… solutions of international economic, social, health, and related problems’, Article 25 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights recognizes ‘standard of living adequate for… health.’ Other references to the right to health in African human rights instruments include: Article 16 of African Charter of Human and Peoples Rights. When outlining more material public health needs and guidelines, such measures are non-binding. The UN Committee on the Economic Social and Cultural Rights (Committee on the ESCR) has written one of the most recognised and expansive documents on the right to health entitled General Comment No 14. This raises the question of where an international right to health framework should go from here. The discussions around an FCGH are not based on replacing the current existing framework but rather aim to explore how an FCGH could support and develop the existing system. It could cement the popular shift away from vague human right norms guaranteed in the various binding treaties toward the concretization of the substantive content of the right to health, as defined by UN General Comments and other non-binding documents.
According to Gostin, an FCGH would be an innovative solution that would set targets, dismantle barriers to constructive engagement with the private sector, and actively engage with civil society.6 The exact content of an FCGH is subject to much debate, and it is not the aim of this article to anticipate that debate. However, in broad strokes, it is possible to observe that an international agreement would at least set global norms and standards in the most common areas of health delivery, and perhaps a timeframe for the achievement of these standards.7 For the purposes of this paper, it is important to highlight the following areas which the FCGH may include:

1) Recommended levels of domestic public sector expenditure on health services;
2) a definition of the essential health services that should be available to all;
3) priority setting with appropriate targets and benchmarks for progress; and
4) recognition of elements of non-discrimination and protection of vulnerable groups.8
Discussions around an FCGH call for the inclusion of concrete public health concepts that focus on the poor, rather than merely a normative ideology constituted by vague concepts of rights.9 The FCGH is based on the argument that human beings fundamentally need secure access to an essential package of basic goods for the personal value of human life.10 These may include adequate supplies of food and drink, clothing, shelter, and basic health care.11 Therefore, despite the differences of culture, social position, or circumstance, all human beings must receive the minimum necessary means to meet their needs and realize their full capacity.12 An FCGH would aim to outline and concretize health care as a basic good, moving away from the vague concept of rights.
Activists and academics alike assert that an FCGH could also play an empowerment role, particularly in the context of civil society movements across the world.13 The proliferation of networks of NGOs, linking local and international levels, is one of the most striking developments of human rights regimes since 1948.14 The HIV/AIDS epidemic has helped to catalyze the modern health and human rights movement, which extends far beyond the disease.15 The movement’s ethos expresses the idea that promoting and protecting health and promoting and protecting human rights are inextricably connected.16 Gostin and others state that “the most transformative changes in global health have come from the ‘bottom up’ through social movements, such as campaigns to fight HIV/AIDS.”17 Heyns and Viljoen argue that civil societies in countries like South Africa have used the international rights framework to demand that the right to health is fulfilled; and to translate law into language that resonates with local communities as they demand their rights.18 These developments have created space for the emergence of strong civil society movements around health. The movements consist of a wide variety of actors, depending on the context, but they generally include NGOs, as well as women’s groups, faith-based organizations, youth groups, government agencies, the private sector, and the media. These groups are able to counter the growing influence of vested state and private interests, which challenges the realization of the right to health.
There is an expanse of literature critiquing the concept of an FCGH, especially its ability to assist in the tangible realization of rights for those most in need. Critics have questioned the value of yet another international agreement, when the real obstacles to health care lie at a national level and should be actively negotiated at that level.19 In a study, Palmer et al. showed that ratification of human rights treaties was not significantly related to a positive change in national health.20 This is especially pertinent in arguments for context-specific health solutions. It is argued that an interntional convention that was too detailed would become outdated and therefore defunct.21 This article will examine this criticism within the context of case studies to highlight the usefulness of an FCGH in practical terms; this includes the possibilities for innovation using the FCGH to support and enhance the work of civil society in the realization of the right to health.
In the South African context, discussions about the international right to health framework and the potential role for an FCGH ought to be grounded in South Africa’s status as a young democracy (with its first democratic elections taking place in 1994).22 It is also necessary to take into consideration the new constitutional architecture based on the conception of human rights and responsibilities that emerged in the mid-1990s.23 The history of unequal opportunities and disadvantaged conditions presents one of the greatest challenges to the realization of rights in South Africa, impacting all spheres of society. The economic disparities have fundamentally affected the delivery of all economic and social goods to the poorest and most vulnerable. The advent of the AIDS epidemic only compounded these inequalities.
In 2010, it was estimated that 10.9% of the South African population was infected with HIV.24 An estimated 5.5 million people were living with HIV in 2009, which is only marginally lower than the 5.8 million estimated in the early 2000s.25 The high number of people infected with HIV in South Africa can be attributed to various factors, but is linked strongly to President Thabo Mbeki’s denial of the causal link between HIV and AIDS.26 Moreover, funding problems and health systems weaknesses facing the current health system have presented additional challenges to the realization of the right to health and those living with HIV. Civil society has had to find new and innovative ways to engage and challenge government to ensure the delivery of basic health services to people living with HIV/AIDS.
Civil society’s struggle in this arena was largely led by the Treatment Action Campaign (TAC). Launched in 1998, TAC was a response to South Africa’s increasingly apparent HIV/AIDS epidemic. TAC campaigned for greater access to testing and treatment for all South Africans by raising awareness and understanding about the availability, affordability, and use of HIV treatments.27 This community engagement was particularly important where late or absent HIV diagnosis, aggravated by denial, was associated with high morbidity and mortality.28 TAC became a vocal and visible justice and non-discrimination lobby in the developing world for the rights of people living with HIV/ AIDS.29 However, TAC had not planned on the need to campaign against the government.30 Initially, their targets were multinational pharmaceutical companies, which were expected to obstruct attempts to secure affordable treatment for people living with the virus.31
The mobilization throughout the era of denial focused mainly on the South African Constitution and the meaning of the rights and responsibilities outlined in Section 27.32 Using that domestic legal framework proved highly effective, both in terms of the mobilization of TAC members, the majority of whom were community members, and in terms of litigation strategy. TAC’s politics-centered approach to right-to-health advocacy included aspects of grassroots empowerment and international collaborations.33 Its grassroots treatment literacy campaign aimed to empower poor and physically and emotionally debilitated South Africans with HIV to participate in and make demands for their own treatment and care.34 The campaign also intended to make people living with HIV/AIDS rights-bearing members of local communities, activist organizations, and schools.35 International collaborations included partnerships with international organizations like Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF), who provided important science and medical support. But coalescing local and international action seemed insufficient.
Instead of shunning national political action and large-scale national institutions, TAC’s critical engagement with government, proved imperative to the struggle.36 It included strategic litigation strategies that forced the government to change state policies, open up policy-making processes, and fashion and implement democratic programs of social provision for people living with HIV.37 For example, in one of the most famous social and economic rights cases in South Africa, Treatment Action Campaign v Minister of Health, the court ordered the government to implement a more reasonable policy regarding PMTCT essential in the prevention of mother-to-child transmission of HIV.38 This was a success for activists advocating around the right to health as the court upheld the rights of people living with HIV over denialist-based government policy.
However, the outcome of the case disappointed many South African human rights advocates who had hoped for broad judicial declarations of the core substance and programmatic contours of social rights, including the right to health, in Section 27 of the Constitution.39 Critics argued:
The disposed and impoverished citizenry are entitled to have the minimum content of their [economic and social rights] articulated, so they and their political and legal advocates may be more ready to hold the government to account.40
TAC continued to face challenges from government even after universal access to antiretroviral treatment was finally adopted in 2004, as there was minimal investment made in monitoring systems.41 As a result, civil society groups including TAC established their own monitoring network to track equity and coverage of antiretroviral treatment (ARV) access across South Africa during the rollout. This illustrated the essential role of civil society monitoring in holding the state accountable for providing basic goods and services for all.
With gross inequalities of resources between the private and public sectors, challenges faced by the health sector served to compound challenges for the HIV/AIDS movement.42 Major inequities remain in South Africa, with huge variation in health status and health service access across the nine provinces, and even between neighboring communities.43 For example, only 14% of citizens are able to access the private health care sector, yet they benefit from up to 60% of national health expenditures.44 Therefore, there is a new strategic challenge for the realization of the right to health: immediately implementing the government’s operational plan while strengthening the broader health care system over the longer term.
Considering this South African context, an FCGH could fulfill a number of functions. It could provide a comprehensive blueprint, including setting out a basic level of domestic public sector expenditures on health services and a definition of essential health services. This blueprint could be used for various purposes: to galvanize communities around certain demands, to encourage international support around specific issues, and to engage directly with government. A recent example is the government’s response to projected over-expenditures in the Free State Provincial budget 2008-2009. In November 2008, the Provincial Department of Health in South Africa’s Free State province enacted a moratorium on starting new patients on ARV treatment. The moratorium, which was part of a series of cost curtailment measures that affected the purchasing and delivery of HIV/AIDS treatment and other medicines, lasted for four months and had detrimental consequences for people living with HIV. The situation highlighted the larger human resource and funding challenges facing health care provision. These funding challenges resulted in a national commitment to introduce a system of National Health Insurance (NHI) within the next five years. It will be funded by a single health insurance system and aims to guarantee an essential package of health care services to all people.45 In an initiative like this, an FCGH may prove instrumental in its ability to provide a comprehensive blueprint for government.
Moreover, the HIV/AIDS movement could use an FCGH to challenge the state’s organization around the right to health. Movements such as TAC and the AIDS and Rights Alliance of Southern Africa (ARASA) have advanced democracy by demanding accountability from governments that have not been accustomed to such pressure. In drafting an FCGH, civil society, government, and communities could build a common vision of the priorities and basic needs of those they are representing. HIV/AIDS activists have mobilized for years around basic standards for health care, creating a strong foundation for those activists to work proactively in other areas within the health system, for example the monitoring of health systems. Within this context, the HIV/AIDS movement could use an FCGH to hold government to account within a broader environment.
The South African case study highlights various areas where an FCGH could assist civil society in the realization of the right to health for people living with HIV/AIDS. In this case, an FCGH could provide an important legal and advocacy tool to re-engage the government and NGOs like TAC, who have been mobilizing around basic health standards for years. It could also be used as an instrument of pressure against a government, holding it accountable to its citizenry. In the current environment, though the political space has become more conducive, there are challenges of monitoring, limited funding, and a lack of human resources. In this context, an FCGH would contain a concrete blueprint for civil society with comprehensive standards to which the government could be held accountable.
The next case study will look at the role of an FCGH within the context of the HIV/AIDS movement in Senegal. In contrast with the sub-Saharan African countries, Senegal’s successful attempts to prevent the spread of HIV/AIDS have transformed the country into a best-practice model over the last two decades.46 The epidemiology of HIV/AIDS in Senegal is different from that of South Africa and the rest of Sub-Saharan Africa because the profile of the disease is concentrated, with a country HIV prevalence low of about 0.7%, but a higher prevalence among vulnerable groups such as sex workers (about 20%) and men who have sex with men (MSM) with a prevalence of about 21.5%.47
Senegal’s relatively low infection rate is due in part to a speedily mounted public education strategy that mobilized the population soon after the epidemic broke out in 1984.48 Senegalese society has a tradition of active community involvement in health and development issues; thus, when it became clear that HIV/AIDS was a potential threat to national well-being, community groups were well-placed to respond.49 The effort involved women’s groups, faith-based organizations, youth groups, government agencies, the private sector, and the media.50 Therefore the epidemiology of the disease, the political environment, and the nature of civil society differed greatly from that of South Africa.
The HIV/AIDS movement involved religious communities and leaders, an integral component to its success.51 It was clear that religious leaders wanted to be involved when as early as 1989, a conservative Islamic organization, Jamra, approached the National AIDS Council to discuss HIV prevention strategies.52 Although initially hostile to condom promotion and some other aspects of AIDS prevention, the group became an important partner in a dialogue between public health officials and religious leaders.53 Furthermore, Christian organizations are important providers of health services in Senegal.54 Early in the epidemic, churches developed a more supportive outlook towards prevention, led by a Catholic NGO, SIDA Service, which provided counselling and psychosocial support.55
Currently, there are more than 3,000 civil society organizations involved in the Senegalese HIV/AIDS response, from community-based groups to national NGOs.56 Some of the most prominent organizations are l’Agence pour la Promotion des Activités de Population (APAPS), ENDA-Sante, Society for Women and AIDS in Africa (SWAA Sénégal), Association Sénégalaise pour le Bien Etre Familiale (ASBEF) and SIDA Service (as mentioned above). Moreover, these NGOs and other partners have encouraged the establishment of organizations aiming to strengthen the social networks of vulnerable groups like MSM and sex workers. There are a handful of MSM associations (which provide social spaces and are centrally involved in HIV/AIDS outreach) in Senegal, mostly in the urban areas.57
Stigma and discrimination are some of the biggest challenges for the HIV/AIDS epidemic in Senegal . The perception of HIV/AIDS as a “gay disease” has stigmatized those who operate in the MSM community and placed them at increased risk of discrimination and violence.58 The belief that MSM are to blame for the epidemic or that they are the only at-risk group is still common.59 As affirmed at the 15th International Conference on AIDS and STIs in Africa (ICASA) in 2008, criminalization of homosexual conduct is a significant hurdle in providing education, testing, and treatment to MSM populations in Africa.60 But even if the epidemic could be fought effectively from a clinical and epidemiological perspective, it is not enough to encourage voluntary testing and monitoring of people who agree to declare their HIV status. The social context of stigma and discrimination against people living with HIV/AIDS naturally leads them to hide their status.61
It is within this social context that a criticism of the FCGH could arise; an international treaty would not help civil society combat context-specific health challenges, especially in the realm of cultural and social issues. In fact, the use of rights language in the Senegalese context may prove challenging, as the wider society does not see those infected with HIV/AIDS as deserving of special rights.62 People living with HIV/AIDS are viewed as asking for special rights and the community questions why that group has claim to more rights.63 As an international framework, an FCGH cannot respond to the social and cultural specificities in every country. However, it can provide a concrete blueprint for civil society organizations to build on the effective collaborative efforts made by the HIV/AIDS movement and to conceptualize a comprehensive right to health for all.
An FCGH could be instrumental in conversations about what in Senegal is termed ‘Code de la santé’ or ‘Health Code.’ The philosophy behind this project is to understand the relationship between health and the law, while considering emerging ethical and health challenges. The development of the Health Code would take into account the global context and universally agreed standards.64 Such a process would require concrete concepts that frame and define the various components of the basic right to health. The FCGH would also advocate for inclusive processes, thereby accommodating marginalized and vulnerable populations.65 Examples of this inclusivity can be found in the strength of government leadership and intersectoral collaboration between different civil society members, including churches, mosques, and women’s groups in Senegal.
Finally, the development of an FCGH could mobilize Southern and Northern civil society and communities for advocacy on health issues that require global cooperation.66 HIV/AIDS movements in both South Africa and Senegal are facing global challenges that impact health, including trade and intellectual property, health financing, health worker migration, and the environmental change.
The case study of Senegal provides an important contrast to the South African experience. It recognizes that an FCGH as an international framework will not contain silver bullets for obstacles to the realization of the right to health, especially in country-specific social and cultural contexts, as well as different constitutional domestic frameworks. However, its role in galvanizing civil society groups around health issues could be valuable, and a tool for outlining the contents of health as a basic good upon which to build a national consensus.
The two case studies, Senegal and South Africa, look at the role that civil society played in realizing the right to health in the context of combating the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Through this lens, an FCGH could empower these movements to extend their gains further  in protecting and promoting the right to health in Africa; this is despite very different social and political contexts.
The contemporary nature of the subject means that there is scant literature available on an FCGH, and where it does exist, it is unpublished or difficult to access. Therefore, some of the research in this paper is based on internal working papers of research groups. Furthermore, the article has focused on the FCGH in the context of HIV/AIDS in Senegal and South Africa as an example, and the conclusions cannot necessarily be said to apply to broader health care systems or other communicable diseases. However, this research is useful in explaining some of the broad concepts coming out of new discussions surrounding an FCGH. Also, it has expanded on the existing literature on the important work  and accomplishments of the HIV/AIDS movements in South Africa and Senegal.
The two case studies emphasize the importance of taking into account the political, social, and economic context of the places in which the FCGH would be implemented. In the case of HIV/AIDS movements, it was necessary to consider the context-specific formations of the epidemic, the different nature and history of civil society, and government responses to the epidemic. It is possible to see that different states on the African continent face diverse challenges regarding the realization of the right to health in the context of HIV/AIDS and more widely. The HIV/AIDS response in Senegal highlighted these challenges, especially the social and cultural obstacles to the realization of the right to health.
However, both cases demonstrated that an FCGH would assist health activists by setting a standard against which citizens are able to measure their governments.67 The two examples highlight specific gains by the HIV/AIDS movements in South Africa and Senegal over the past 15-20 years. These gains would enable civil society organizations to mobilize outside of the relatively narrow focus of HIV/AIDS movements and more towards health systems delivery – and social determinants of health – more broadly, for which the FCGH could also galvanize support. Even in two contexts where the disease epidemiology, political environments, and nature of civil society are completely different, it is possible to conclude that an FCGH could be advantageous. It is only a failure of imagination that will limit discussions about the next step for the international right to health framework.
Ella Scheepers, LLM, is working in the field of human rights in Johannesburg, South Africa.
Please address correspondence to the author at ella.scheepers02@gmail.com.
1. M. Heywood and J. Shija, “A global convention on health – Would it help developing countries to fulfill their duties on the right to health? A South African perspective” (2011). Available at http://www.section27.org.za/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/Heywood-Shija.pdf.
2. Ibid., p.2.
3. See “Realising the right to health in our lifetimes? Towards a Framework Convention on the Right to Health” Discussion document for SECTION27, Regional Activist Dialogue, March 25, 2011.
4. Heywood and Shija (2011, see note 1).
5. Ibid., p.2.
6. L. Gostin, “Meeting the survival needs of the world’s least healthy people: A proposed model for global health governance,” Journal of the American Medical Association
298 (2007), p. 335.
7. Heywood and Shija (2011, see note 1).
8. Ibid., p. 2.
9. P. Farmer, Pathologies of power: health, human rights and the new war on the poor
(Berkeley, CA: University of California, Berkeley, 2003), p. 236.
10. T. Pogge, World poverty and human rights: Cosmopolitan responsibilities and reforms
, second edition (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2008), p. 55.
11. Ibid.
12. D. Beetham, “Human rights and cosmopolitan democracy,” in D. Archibugi, D. Held and M. Kohler (eds.), Reimagining political community: Studies in cosmopolitan democracy
(Stanford: Stanford University Press 1998), p. 60.
13. See generally, I. Kickbusch, “Wake-up call for a strong global health policy” (2003).  Yale Global Online
, available at http://yaleglobal.yale.edu/display.article?id_1476; P. Farmer “Intelligent design,” Foreign Affairs 86/2 (2007) pp. 155-161.
14. SECTION 27 Regional Activist Dialogue, “Realising the right to health in our lifetimes? Towards a framework convention on the right to health” Discussion document for SECTION 27 Regional Activist Dialogue (25 March 2011.) Available at http://www.section27.org.za/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/DiscussionDocument.pdf.
15. Farmer (2003, see note 9) p. 56.
16. Ibid.
17. L. Gostin, M. Heywood, G. Ooms, et al., “National and global responsibilities for health,” Bulletin of the World Health Organization
88/10 (2010) pp. 719-719a.
18. See C. Heyns and F. Viljoen, “The impact of the United Nations treaties on the domestic Level” Human Rights Quarterly
23/483 (2001); G. Backman, P. Hunt, R. Khosla, et al. “Health systems and the right to health: an assessment of 194 countries,” Lancet 372/9655 (2008). pp. 2047-2085.
19. Heywood and Shija (2011, see note 1).
20. A. Palmer, J. Tomkinson, C. Phung, et al. “Does ratification of human rights treaties have effects on population health?,” Lancet
373/9679 (2009), pp.1987-1992.
21. Heywood and Shija (2011, see note 1).
22. Ibid.
23. Ibid.
24. Actuarial Society of South Africa AIDS Committee, HIV/AIDS Newsletter (Edition 10, September 2011). Available at aids.actuarialsociety.org.za.
25. Actuarial Society of South Africa AIDS and Demographic Model Media Release (2008) Available at http://aids.actuarialsociety.org.za/scripts/buildfile.asp?filename=ASSA AIDS Model 2008 Media Release.pdf.
26. W. Forbath, “Cultural transformation, deep institutional reform, and ESR practice: South Africa’s treatment action campaign,” in L. Whik and J. Perelman (eds.), Stones of hope: How African activists reclaim human rights to challenge global poverty
(Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2011),p. 51.
27. Available at http://www.tac.org.za/community/about.
28. C. Delpierre, V. Lauwers-Cances, P. Pugliese, et al., “Characteristics trends, mortality and morbidity in persons newly diagnosed HIV positive during the last decade: the profile of new HIV diagnosed people,”  European Journal of Public Health
18/3 (2007), pp. 345-347. Available at http://eurpub.oxfordjournals.org/content/18/3/345.full.
29.
30. S. Friedman, “Gaining comprehensive AIDS treatment in South Africa: The extraordinary ‘ordinary,” in J. Gaventa and R. McGee (eds.), Citizen action and national policy reform: Making change happen
(Zed Books, 2010), p. 45.
31. Ibid., p. 45.
32.
33. W. Forbath (2011, see note 26).
34. Ibid., p. 51.
35. Ibid., p. 51.
36. Ibid., p. 51.
37. Ibid., p. 53.
38. Minister of Health and others v. Treatment Action Campaign and others CCT 9/02; 2002 (5) SA 721 (CC)
39. W. Forbath (2011, see note 26)
40. Ibid., p. 66.
41. L. London and H. Schneider, “Globalisation and health inequalities: Can a human rights paradigm create space for civil society action?” Social Science and Medicine
74 (2012) pp. 6-13. Available at http://repository.uwc.ac.za/xmlui/handle/10566/475#files.
42. Forbath (see note 26), p. 73.
43. J. E. Lawn and M. V. Kinney, “Health in South Africa: Executive summary of the series” Lancet 347 (2009) pp. 2-6.
44. Ibid., p. 2.
45. Department of Health of the Republic of South Africa, National health insurance in South Africa: Policy paper. Available at www.info.gov.za/view/DownloadFileAction?id=148470
46. T. Matthew, “Senegal renews its campaign against AIDS,” Contemporary Review (2004), p. 169.
47. UNAIDS, See UNAIDS report 2011 available at http://www.unaids.org/en/regionscountries/countries/senegal/.
48. Matthew (2004, see note 46), p. 169.
49. UNAIDS, Acting Early to prevent AIDS: The case of Senegal UNAIDS Best Practice Collection (Geneva: UNAIDS, 1999) Available at https://www.unaids.org/en/media/unaids/contentassets/dataimport/publications/irc-pub04/una99-34_en.pdf
50. Matthews (2004, see note 46), p. 169.
51. Ibid., p. 169.
52. UNAIDS (1999, see note 47), p. 12.
53. Ibid., p. 12.
54. Ibid., p. 13.
55. Ibid., p. 13.
56. D. Diouf and E.N.D.A. Sante, HIV/AIDS policy in Senegal: A civil society perspective (New York, NY: Open Society Institute, 2007). Available at http://www.soros.org/initiatives/health/focus/phw/articles_publications/publications/senegal_20071015/senegal_20071015.pdf.
57. Human Rights Watch, Fear for life: Violence against gay men and men perceived as gay in Senegal
(New York: Human Rights Watch, 2010), p. 2.
58. Ibid., p. 2.
59. R. Parker and P. Aggleton, K. Attawel, et al., HIV/AIDS-related stigma and Discrimination: A Conceptual Framework and an Agenda for Action
(New York: Population Council, 2002).
60. ‘Fear For Life: Violence against Gay Men and Men perceived as gay in Senegal’ Human Rights Watch Report
(2010). Available at http://www.hrw.org/sites/default/files/reports/senegal1110webwcover.pdf.
61. B. Kante, “VIH et droits humains,” (presentation at at a workshop with the theme ‘Integration of HIV/AIDS in programs or development projects in Africa the West, in Dakar, Senegal by the Regional HIV and Development Project in Pretoria, 2002.
62. Ibid., p. 16.
63. Ibid.
64. M. Becker, ‘L’état de la codification sanitaire au Sénégal: vers un Code de la santé?’ (translated from French). (Actes du Colloque international de Dakar 29 mars au 1er avril 2005). Available at http://rds.refer.sn/IMG/pdf/ANIMATIONTOUTCOUV2OK.pdf#page=52.
65. Heywood and  Shija (2011, see note 1)
66. Ibid., p. 2.
67. Ibid.