Live Aid’s 40-Year Echo: Ethiopian Voices Reflect on Global Impact and Lasting Questions

Looking Back: Live Aid’s Impact from Ethiopia to the World

On July 13, 1985, the world did something it had never done before—turned its eyes, ears, and hearts to a crisis in Ethiopia. Live Aid, the colossal dual-venue concert spearheaded by Bob Geldof and Midge Ure, was more than just a party for a cause. Broadcast to over 1.9 billion viewers in more than 150 countries, it brought a faraway famine into living rooms and headlines around the globe.

But while the UK and US saw an army of rock stars transforming compassion into donations, the reaction inside Ethiopia and among the African diaspora has always been mixed. Ethiopians will tell you that Live Aid is hard to forget. Images of starving children became the shorthand for an entire nation, and in some ways, an entire continent. The concert pulled in more than $125 million in donations—unheard of for its time—and sent a clear signal that the West could care, and could act, on a global scale.

The Conversation Continues: Hope, Anger, and Unanswered Questions

Yet, the story never felt that simple. Many African journalists and experts, including the likes of former BBC Africa correspondent Martin Plaut, remember their initial anger stirred by the oversimplified coverage. For too many, Live Aid reduced complex problems—civil war, government mismanagement, ongoing drought—to just a crisis of hunger. It glossed over deep-rooted economic and political causes that made famine possible in the first place.

At the same time, plenty of Ethiopians express genuine gratitude for the global wave of empathy. For a moment, the world saw their pain—and cared enough to act. Hospitals, schools, and even local music venues in Addis Ababa still echo stories of how aid saved lives. It’s a point that Geldof himself often returns to: Live Aid did shine a light on global poverty. It shifted big policy priorities among Western governments, making humanitarian aid not just something left to charities, but a topic on the cabinet table.

But the years since have only sharpened the debate. Why, after tens of billions in aid, does Africa still face hunger and poverty on such a massive scale? Ethiopians visiting family abroad or joining the fast-growing diaspora hear these questions again and again. Was Live Aid a one-off burst of Western guilt, or the birth of long-term solidarity?

Some Ethiopian intellectuals and activists now point to the lasting lessons of the Live Aid moment: raising awareness is powerful, but real change takes more than concerts and headlines. They argue that a new generation has to look beyond disaster response and toward helping Africa rewrite its own story—one about agency and innovation rather than endless need.

• Live Aid forced global governments to prioritize humanitarian aid in policy.
• The event also faced backlash for putting a simple face on a complicated disaster.
• For many Ethiopians, the gratitude is genuine—but so is the frustration with ‘poverty porn’ imagery.
• Debates about what actually works in foreign aid haven’t gone away.

Four decades on, Ethiopians are still wrestling with Live Aid’s legacy. Did it change the world? Maybe, for a moment. But it also left questions that are nowhere near settled. And in the streets of Addis or at family kitchens in London, that discussion is very much alive.