the pandemic of selfishness no one wants to contain
Na abertura da 79.ª Assembleia Mundial da Saúde, em Genebra, o diretor-geral da OMS, Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, nomeou o que muitos hesitam em dizer: vivemos uma cascata de crises em que a doença é apenas a face mais visível de uma ordem global em erosão. Os surtos de hantavírus, que matou três pessoas a bordo do navio Hondius, e de Ébola, que ceifou mais de oitenta vidas na República Democrática do Congo, chegaram num momento em que a própria OMS opera com recursos reduzidos e sem o seu maior financiador. A história que se conta aqui não é apenas de vírus — é de instituições fragilizadas, solidariedade contestada e da pergunta permanente sobre quem cuida do mundo quando o mundo deixa de cuidar de si próprio.
- Dois surtos simultâneos — hantavírus num navio de cruzeiro e Ébola no Congo — lembraram que a doença não respeita fronteiras nem calendários diplomáticos.
- A OMS enfrenta esta tempestade com as mãos atadas: cortes orçamentais e a saída dos Estados Unidos sob a administração Trump reduziram drasticamente a sua capacidade de resposta.
- Espanha aceitou receber o Hondius em Tenerife, permitindo a evacuação de mais de 120 pessoas — um gesto concreto num momento em que a cooperação internacional se tornou rara.
- Pedro Sánchez desafiou o tom dominante ao afirmar que defender o bom senso se tornou um ato de rebeldia, e que a verdadeira pandemia por conter é a do egoísmo.
- A trajetória aponta para uma encruzilhada: ou os Estados reforçam os mecanismos coletivos de saúde global, ou aceitam gerir crises cada vez maiores com ferramentas cada vez mais pequenas.
Na segunda-feira, Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus abriu a 79.ª Assembleia Mundial da Saúde em Genebra com uma avaliação sem eufemismos: o mundo atravessa um tempo difícil, perigoso e divisivo, e a saúde global está a pagar o preço. O pano de fundo era concreto — o surto de hantavírus a bordo do navio de cruzeiro Hondius tinha matado três pessoas e obrigado à evacuação de mais de 120 passageiros e tripulantes; no Congo, uma epidemia de Ébola tinha já ceifado mais de oitenta vidas. Não eram estatísticas abstratas. Eram pessoas numa embarcação, pessoas numa região, mortes que marcavam a distância entre o mundo que deveria funcionar e o que realmente existe.
Mas Ghebreyesus falava de algo mais vasto do que surtos. Falava da arquitetura que sustenta a resposta global à doença — e que começou a ceder. Conflitos a multiplicar-se, crises económicas a aprofundar-se, clima a mudar, ajuda internacional a contrair-se. E, no centro desta fragilidade, uma OMS enfraquecida por cortes orçamentais e privada do seu maior financiador desde que os Estados Unidos, sob a administração Trump, abandonaram a organização.
O Primeiro-Ministro espanhol, Pedro Sánchez, convidado especial da assembleia, ofereceu um contraponto. Espanha tinha recebido o Hondius no porto de Tenerife a 10 de maio, tornando possível a evacuação dos que estavam a bordo. Era um ato pequeno, mas real. Sánchez foi mais longe: disse aos delegados que proteger os outros é a melhor forma de proteger as próprias sociedades, e que a pandemia que ninguém quer conter é a do egoísmo. Os aplausos que se seguiram soaram, talvez, como um reconhecimento de que dizer o óbvio se tinha tornado, de facto, um ato de coragem.
Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, the director-general of the World Health Organization, stood before delegates from around the world on Monday and named the moment plainly: we are living through a cascade of crises, and disease is only the most visible one.
He was speaking at the opening of the 79th World Health Assembly in Geneva, an annual gathering that had taken on particular weight this year. The hantavirus outbreak aboard the cruise ship Hondius had killed three people and infected multiple passengers and crew members. In the Democratic Republic of Congo, an Ebola epidemic had claimed more than eighty lives. These were not distant abstractions. These were people on a ship, people in a region, people whose deaths marked the boundary between the world as it was supposed to work and the world as it actually functions.
But Ghebreyesus was not speaking only about disease. He was speaking about the architecture that had begun to crumble around the work of global health. Conflicts were multiplying. Economic crises were deepening. The climate was shifting in ways that made old certainties obsolete. International aid was contracting. "We are living through a difficult, dangerous, and divisive time," he said. The words carried the weight of someone who had watched the systems meant to protect people begin to fray.
Spain's Prime Minister, Pedro Sánchez, had been invited as a special guest, and he offered a counterpoint to the gathering darkness. Spain had agreed to receive the Hondius at the port of Tenerife on May 10th, allowing more than 120 people aboard the ship to be evacuated and processed. It was a small act, but it was concrete. "Protecting others is the best way to protect your own societies," Sánchez told the assembly, and the delegates applauded. He went further, naming something that had become harder to say in public: "In our time, defending common sense has become an act of rebellion, because there is a pandemic that no one wants to contain—the pandemic of selfishness."
The timing of the assembly underscored the fragility of the moment. The WHO itself had been weakened by budget cuts. More significantly, the United States—the organization's largest financial contributor and a cornerstone of its legitimacy—had withdrawn under the Trump administration. The machinery of global health coordination was running on reduced power, facing increased demand, at precisely the moment when coordination mattered most. The hantavirus and Ebola outbreaks were not anomalies. They were symptoms of a world in which the barriers between regions were becoming more porous, in which disease could travel as fast as a ship could sail, and in which the institutions meant to respond were themselves under siege.
Notable Quotes
Protecting others is the best way to protect your own societies— Pedro Sánchez, Prime Minister of Spain
In our time, defending common sense has become an act of rebellion, because there is a pandemic that no one wants to contain: the pandemic of selfishness— Pedro Sánchez
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
When Ghebreyesus says we're living through a "difficult, dangerous, and divisive time," is he talking about the diseases themselves, or something larger?
Both, but the diseases are almost a mirror. The hantavirus on a cruise ship, the Ebola in Congo—they show us that disease doesn't respect borders or wealth. But he's really pointing at the fact that the systems meant to catch these things, to contain them, are breaking down.
Because of budget cuts and the US withdrawal?
That's part of it. But also because countries are turning inward. When Sánchez talks about the "pandemic of selfishness," he's saying that even when the solution is obvious—evacuate the ship, share resources, coordinate—there's resistance. People want to protect their own first.
Is Spain's decision to take the Hondius unusual?
It signals something. Spain could have said no. Instead, they said yes, and they did it publicly, at the assembly. It's a small gesture, but in a moment when cooperation is fracturing, small gestures matter.
What happens if the WHO continues to weaken?
Disease doesn't wait for institutions to recover. The next outbreak will move faster than the response. That's the real danger Ghebreyesus is naming.