Canadian Mennonite
Volume 12, No. 10
May 12, 2008

Fair Trade

The Temptations of Ahab

Judy Wilson

[L]ike Ahab, we are continuously being confronted by “more” and “better.”

It’s hard to be objective about, let alone sympathetic to, King Ahab. He was an evil man, rotten to the core. The record of his succession to the throne prepares us for the details of his life by saying “He did more to arouse the anger of the Lord, the God of Israel, than all of the kings of Israel before him” (I Kings 16).

With that warning we know that every time Ahab makes an appearance he is the villain. After repeated readings of the story of Naboth’s vineyard, however, I came to the sorry conclusion that I had more in common with Ahab than with either of the other two main characters. The temptations of Ahab bear an uncomfortable resemblance to the temptations faced by modern consumers.

The story, as recorded in I Kings 21, begins when Ahab, a man who already has more of everything than he possibly needs, sees a nice little piece of land. It’s close to his palace and would be a wonderful place to grow vegetables. There’s only one problem. It belongs to Naboth, and Naboth doesn’t want to give it up. The land has been in his family for generations, and neither money nor another garden plot will make up for losing family property. So Ahab goes home and pouts. He faces the wall and refuses to eat—all because of a vegetable plot.

It’s easy for us to see how petty this is, but I can also sympathize with Ahab. He has money and power. He is used to getting his way. And now he’s forced to live next door to something he can’t have.

We, too, have sufficient money and sufficient power to provide ourselves with most things we want. And yet, like Ahab, we are continuously being confronted by “more” and “better.”

Think about it. When you grocery shop, can you claim immunity to the temptation of exotic fruits, the dozens of cereal choices, the newest flavour of ice-cream? Changes in technology make our cell phones, computers, televisions, even cars, maddeningly outdated before we get them home. Vacation season is almost upon us and it’s hard to ignore the allure of bigger, newer, shinier and more powerful toys to maximize our recreational experience.

We can easily see how childish, how ungrateful and how arrogant Ahab was in his desire for a specific piece of land. But, so far, he looks a lot like many of us.

Going only on what happens to Naboth next, we’d probably agree that Jezebel is the true villain in the story. She devises a scheme, forges letters that result in Naboth’s untimely death, and then cheers up her husband with the news that the vineyard is now his to claim.

Our comfortable lifestyle comes to us—to some degree at least—from following Ahab’s example of leaving the dirty work to others. Take food, for instance. We enjoy extremely cheap food in this country. According to the Alberta Farm Safety Centre, farmers are five times more likely to be injured on the job than workers in any other industry. Farmers and farm families are exposed to health hazards from the use of chemicals, dangerous machinery, infectious diseases, noise and stress. Much farm work is regulated by weather: When crops are ready and the weather permits, farmers frequently work extended hours. Harvesting of tender and fragile crops is frequently tedious and back-breaking work.

Or think of how much of the food we eat that now comes from outside the country. Consider imported produce: The mangoes and melons on our store shelves in winter months or the green asparagus shoots arriving astonishingly early in the year are actually travelling a long way to get here. In Manitoba, for example, the average food ingredient travels 2,000 kilometres. The social costs of exploited farm labour; environmental impacts of pesticides, including ones banned for use in our own country; fuel consumption; and greenhouse gas emissions are out of sight and easily ignored.

Or think about carpets, paint, noxious household cleaners and intricate embroidery on fine clothing. How many of these come to us as a result of someone else’s work in unpleasant, unsafe or unfulfilling labour?

At first glance, what amazes me most about Ahab is that he never once asked what had happened to Naboth. Even allowing for the passage of time, he cannot have forgotten how attached to the land Naboth had been, nor how Jezebel had promised to get it for him. He had to have known that something was not quite right.

Not wanting to know may be our biggest temptation as well. We don’t want to know about coffee labourers earning $3 or $4 a month, somewhat less than we pay for a single cup of specialty coffee. We don’t really want to know how much the farmer gets paid when apples sell for less than a dollar per pound.

When buying a new rug, do we stop to ask how it was manufactured: Was child labour used? Did the workers work in a safe environment and did they get a fair wage? Do we wonder whether the young factory worker who put the logo on our $175 running shoes walked barefoot to work? Do we think the seamstress who stitched the “hand-sewn quilt” priced at $59.99 is feeding her family well on her share of the sticker price?

While trying to decide whether $8 or $28 is too much to pay for another handy little gadget, do we stop to consider how many hands have touched that object, how many miles it has travelled, and whether anyone was hurt in its manufacture, shipping and marketing?

Like Ahab, we know somewhere deep inside of us that there’s something wrong with the picture. But we don’t want to know. We’d rather just take possession of the vineyard.

Even though we know Ahab was an evil man, the way he responded to the consumer challenges of his day highlights how easy it is to sin. First, we, like Ahab with the vineyard in full view of his palace, are bombarded with images that incite us to want stuff. The whole mess started with wanting something that wasn’t his. That may seem like the mildest offence, but isn’t that how life is? “Where do all the fights and quarrels among you come from?” asks James in chapter 4 verse 1. The answer? “You want things but you cannot have them, so you quarrel and fight.”

It may be difficult to control our wants, but we certainly can lessen our exposure to them. Judith Levine, in Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping, writes about trying to buy only essential groceries and a limited amount of gas for a full year. She wasn’t entirely successful, but she learned a lot along the way. Among her conclusions is the simple observation that when you stay away from malls, restaurants or movies theatres, you lose interest in them. You find that you can get along just fine without exotic mushrooms, another pair of shoes, and even coffee shop coffee.

Second, we can do more of our own dirty work. We have lost contact with our food, our housing and even our clothing by allowing others to do the work for us. Small things like buying locally and doing more of our own food preparation can go a long way towards tipping the scale. It takes a little more effort to shop at the farm gate or farmers markets than at big box grocery stores. It takes more effort to knit a sweater than to choose one off the rack.

It’s time more of us stood up to the corporate giants and said, “I no longer want you pushing people off their ancestral lands so I can have cheap coffee, mangoes all year round, or more tofu.”

Third, we need to ask a lot more questions. Just because something is on display in front of us, just because it’s convenient, and just because we can afford it, does not mean we should assume it’s rightfully ours to purchase.

Asking questions can be costly, both in terms of dollars and emotions. Knowing how little coffee plantation workers are paid may lead to paying two or three times as much for our coffee. Knowing the history of exploitation that marks the discovery, development and production of chocolate may curb our cravings for that treat. There may be clothing labels that we no longer wear—even when purchased at the thrift store. Careful research may lead us to re-balance our investment portfolios.

We live in a world dominated by fewer and larger trans-national corporations. These companies are not specialists. The maker of your favourite chocolate bar may also be feeding your pets, producing your laundry detergent and putting shoes on your feet. Cargill, for example, manufactures feed for dairy and beef cattle, poultry and pork; provides grain and oil seeds to other feed companies; manufactures 15 categories of food; and provides ingredients for health and pharmaceu-tical products, as well as oil, salt, starch and steel products for industrial applications. It takes considerable time and effort to know where our food, clothing and furniture come from and what values are driving their production.

Fortunately, we don’t have to do all of the work ourselves. Standards have already been established to determine when a product has been fairly traded. When we buy coffee, tea, sugar, handicrafts, clothing or produce with the Fair Trade Certified mark, we can be sure that the work being done on our behalf was meaningful work, done with dignity and rewarded with a fair price. Moreover, transparency is assured so that we may freely ask questions.

It is relatively easy to shop in a way that reduces global poverty and promotes sustainability for producers. The extra effort and money involved are minimal in comparison to the potential damage of taking the path of least resistance.

The sad story of Naboth’s vineyard saga ends with the appearance of Elijah. Although God has given him a speech to deliver, the prophet doesn’t have to open the conversation. Ahab sees Elijah and groans: “Have you found me, oh my enemy?”

No matter how much sympathy we may have recently developed for Ahab, his response to Elijah’s appearance leaves no doubt as to whether he is guilty or innocent, even in his own eyes.

Although centuries have passed and much has changed, much more has stayed the same. We face many of the same marketplace challenges that confronted Ahab so long ago. May God grant us the courage not to fall into the same traps he did.

Judy Wilson lives near Nanaimo, B.C. She was previously employed by the Conference of Mennonites in Canada and Swift Current (Sask.) Bible Institute.

For discussion