The Empire of “Good Intentions”: How White Saviorism Outlived Colonialism

When Rudyard Kipling published his poem “The White Man’s Burden” in 1899, he cast imperialism as a reluctant act of duty, a moral burden shouldered by the white man to uplift the “half-devil and half-child” over “thankless years.” It was framed not as conquest, but as care. Imperialism, in Kipling’s telling, was a gift to “serve [the] captives' need.”

The idea of benevolent domination became the moral backbone of colonialism, allowing Western powers to justify their rule by claiming to bring faith, education, and sanitation to those deemed less developed. Missionaries and administrators viewed themselves as saviors or civilizers, expecting gratitude in return.

The question now is whether the ghost of the “white man’s burden” still haunts modern international relations. White saviorism, now increasingly Western saviorism, appears in viral charity campaigns, influencer trips, and poorly implemented international aid projects. While the context has changed, the sentiment has not. Western saviorism is the afterlife of imperial patronization, assuming the Western world is uniquely equipped to rescue others. It depends on hierarchy: one side gives, the other receives, and gratitude seals the deal. The result is a moral theater on the global stage, where soft power disguised itself as compassion.

In March 2012, the Kony 2012 campaign began. Stemming from a viral video, the movement aimed to save Ugandan children from warlord Joseph Kony. The video condensed and oversimplified a highly complex regional conflict, portraying Western intervention as the inevitable solution through a racially charged metaphor of savages, victims, and saviors. The video portrayed Ugandan and broader African culture as barbaric and uncivilized. It called upon citizens of the Global North to share the video, raising awareness and amplifying the pre-existing rhetoric that depicted them as morally superior. Ultimately, Kony 2012 faced local backlash, with Ugandan journalist and activist Rosebell Kagumire explaining that a campaign representing her as “voiceless, as hopeless” had “no space telling [her] story.”

That impulse––to speak for rather than with––is the hallmark of Western saviorism. This is not to deny the sincerity of those who dedicate their lives to humanitarian work. Compassion and idealism are real. Yet, good intentions alone do not dismantle hierarchies. The structure remains unaltered when “helping” implies moral superiority, and the act of giving reinforces the giver’s authority. 

The assumption that progress and righteousness flow solely from the West continues to shape policy, aid, and representation. From the International Monetary Fund’s economic rescue packages to climate lectures and voluntourism selfies, the message remains: progress is given by the West and received by the rest of the world, who should be thankful. 

Western saviorism remains highly apparent globally, particularly in Haiti, a nation still deemed the “Republic of NGOs.” Fifteen years after the 2010 earthquake that prompted billions of dollars in aid, the country remains highly reliant on external actors. Thousands of NGOs continue to operate in the absence of a stable government, often bypassing local authorities in favor of direct donor action. While aid has improved schooling rates and life expectancy, it still leaves Haiti far from escaping its “chronic poverty.” Compared to the Dominican Republic, a neighboring country with a similar GDP per capita fifty years ago, Haiti––a country of comparable size and population––employs fewer than 60,000 government workers. In contrast, the Dominican Republic employs over half a million. Organizations, including the Clinton Foundation, have poured aid into Haiti, poaching local talent, excluding local voices, and creating dependencies that weaken local institutions. 

To address the implications of Western saviorism, we must first acknowledge that true aid begins with the humility to listen. It requires deferring to those we aim to help and understanding that they possess the knowledge, agency, and resilience to drive their own story. Kipling justified imperialism by calling domination goodwill. Modern Western saviorism does the same, all while expecting gratitude. The solution lies not in abandoning aid, but in stripping it of its colonial heritage.

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