Making Space to Breathe: Values, Identity and Accountability in a Faith-Based NGO

Making space to breathe: Values, identity and accountability in a faith-based NGO

Linda Kurti

A thesis submitted in fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy

School of Public Health and Community Medicine University of New South Wales December 2005

1 Originality statement

“I hereby declare that this submission is my own work and to the best of my knowledge it contains no materials previously published or written by another person, or substantial proportions of material which have been accepted for the award of any other degree or diploma at UNSW or any other educational institution, except where due acknowledgement is made in the thesis. Any contribution made to the research by others, with whom I have worked at UNSW or elsewhere, is explicitly acknowledged in the thesis. I also declare that the intellectual content of this thesis is the product of my own work, except to the extent that assistance from others in the project’s design and conception or in style, presentation and linguistic expression is acknowledged.”

Signed......

i Abstract

This project examines the impact on a Christian mission organisation of the decision to accept government funding and add an explicit international development focus to its work. During the 1980s the Anglican Board of Mission (ABM), the national mission agency of the Anglican Church of Australia, entered into a contractual relationship with the Australian Government which ultimately led to accreditation as a development agency and involvement with the Australian international development sector. This process has significantly influenced ABM both structurally and philosophically, bringing a creative tension within the organisation between two related but distinct approaches to Christian witness.

A cooperative inquiry method was chosen with the aim of fostering organisational learning within ABM. The researcher became a participant in a team of five which conducted three cycles of inquiry over a year. This team of staff members and the researcher explored the influence of the growing relationship with government on their faith-based NGO and its implications within the context of Christian mission. Notions of intentionality, accountability and legitimacy within the relationships with their stakeholders emerged as significant foundations for the work of the organisation. The cycles of inquiry generated a body of co-created knowledge which, it is argued, have pointed the way to managing ABM’s dual roles. Its multiple accountabilities - to government, to its Anglican constituency, and to overseas church partners - are understood as offering a framework through which it can continually assess its organisational integrity and fidelity to its value base. Articulating intentionality of purpose and a clear theological understanding of mission and development were identified as crucial if ABM is to maintain its legitimacy as derived from the mandate of the Anglican Church to undertake Christian mission and development on its behalf. “Making space to breathe” became a metaphor to describe the task of the organisation in creating both a

ii reflective space which opens possibilities for transformed praxis, and a liminal space between the two Programs of the organisation in which a unifying philosophical ground can be discovered.

iii Acknowledgements

This research would not have been possible without the cooperation of the staff of the Anglican Board of Mission. Their generosity and their hospitality were extraordinary. Special thanks are due to the Rev. Geoff Smith, the Rev. John Deane, Ms. Sophie Davies, and Ms. Carolyn Kitto for their participation, their feedback, and their friendship.

Many people provided help and encouragement during my doctoral studies. Within the School of Public Health and Community Medicine, I particularly want to thank my supervisors Dr. Anna Whelan and Professor Anthony Zwi for their wisdom and encouragement. Ms. Lyn Kemp and Ms. Liz Harris provided useful advice regarding qualitative research. Ms. Gwyn Jones of the Learning Centre at the University of New South Wales provided inspiration at the beginning of my research. My thanks also go to my friends and fellow PhD students who were part of Gwyn’s seminar and with whom I shared the academic adventure, particularly Dr. Apo Demirkol, Ms. Husna Razee, Ms. Effat Merghati Khoei, and Dr. Chinthaka Balasooriya. Dr. Barbara Ulmer was a valued friend and office- mate before her untimely death in early 2005.

My parents, Phil and Ann Brooks, have been wise mentors throughout my life and particularly through this academic journey. I honour them and pay special tribute to them for their contribution. My husband Peter has been endlessly supportive and encouraging on so many levels. My thanks go beyond words and this thesis is dedicated to him in gratitude.

iv Table of contents

Abstract...... ii Acknowledgements...... iv Table of contents...... v List of abbreviations ...... viii List of diagrams ...... ix List of tables...... ix Chapter One: Introduction ...... 1 What this research is about ...... 1 Background to the research...... 4 Introducing the Anglican Board of Mission ...... 6 Conceptualising the research ...... 10 Conceptual boundaries of the research ...... 11 Australian involvement in international aid...... 15 The Church Partnership Program...... 16 Summary...... 20 Key points:...... 22 Chapter Two: International aid and non-governmental organisations...... 23 Defining international development aid...... 23 The evolution of international development...... 27 The place of culture in development...... 29 Globalisation and the discourse of development ...... 34 Failures in development assistance...... 37 Australian development aid ...... 42 Civil society and development...... 43 Development NGOs as representatives of civil society...... 54 Summary...... 57 Key points:...... 58 Chapter Three: Faith-based NGOs...... 59 Introduction...... 59 From missionary organisation to development agency ...... 61 Faith-based NGOs in a culture-centred paradigm of development ...... 66 Faith-based NGOs as a component of civil society...... 74 Faith-based NGOs and their relation to government ...... 78 Summary...... 83 Key points:...... 85 Chapter Four: Cooperative inquiry as a methodological approach to organisational learning...... 86 Introduction...... 86 Foundations of the participatory paradigm...... 89 Ontology ...... 89 Epistemology ...... 92

v Methodology...... 97 Axiology ...... 105 Validity ...... 108 Summary...... 113 Key points:...... 115 Chapter Five: Cooperative inquiry in action...... 116 Introduction...... 116 Preparation for the inquiry cycles, May-December 2003...... 120 Development of the first research question ...... 121 Research ethics and consent...... 126 Overview of the research cycles ...... 127 Research cycle 1: January-April 2004 (see also Chapter Six)...... 128 Research cycle 2: May-August 2004 (see also Chapter Seven) ...... 135 Research cycle 3: September-December 2004 (see also Chapter Eight) 137 Sense-making...... 140 Summary...... 147 Key points:...... 148 Chapter Six: Relations between NGO and government ...... 149 Introduction...... 149 Understanding community development activities within ABM ...... 150 The mission heritage...... 156 Defining ABM as a development agency ...... 158 Values within a faith-based NGO...... 165 Values and development...... 170 Development Committee reflection...... 176 Summary...... 178 Key points:...... 180 Chapter Seven: Development within the context of Christian mission ...... 181 Introduction...... 181 Understanding holistic mission within ABM ...... 182 Mission identity within a development paradigm...... 188 Effectiveness and intentionality...... 202 Summary...... 205 Key points:...... 206 Chapter Eight: Relationships with stakeholders ...... 207 Introduction...... 207 The influence of the aid sector on ABM...... 208 Church as location of mission identity...... 211 Partnership in mission and development ...... 213 The accreditation review...... 216 Heeding the call for structural justice ...... 220 The Church Partnership Program (CPP)...... 222 Organisational transition...... 224 Summary...... 228

vi Key points:...... 230 Chapter Nine: Personal reflections on the research ...... 231 John Deane writes:...... 232 Sophie Davies writes: ...... 234 Geoff Smith writes:...... 236 Carolyn Kitto writes:...... 238 Linda Kurti writes:...... 240 Chapter Ten: Discussion...... 246 Introduction...... 246 Faith-based NGOs as an expression of culture-centred development ...... 248 Faith-based NGOs as an expression of values...... 251 The foundations of NGO legitimacy...... 253 Balancing intention and action...... 258 Intentionality and transformation...... 261 Summary...... 263 Key points:...... 264 Chapter Eleven: Conclusion ...... 265 References...... 276 Appendix One: Article published in Development Bulletin 2004...... 292 Appendix Two: ABM’s organisational structure in 2004...... 300 Appendix Three: Memorandum of Understanding...... 301

vii List of abbreviations

ABM Anglican Board of Mission ACFID Australian Council for International Development ACFOA Australian Council for Overseas Aid ACPNG Anglican Church of Papua New Guinea AIDAB Australian International Development Aid Bureau ADRA Adventist Development and Relief Agency AngliCORD Anglicans Cooperating on Overseas Relief and Development AusAID Australian Agency for International Development CARE Cooperation for Assistance and Relief Everywhere CBO Community based organisation ComDev ABM’s Community Development Program CPP Church Partnership Program CSO Civil society organisation DFID Department for International Development (UK) DPAC Development Practice Advisory Committee ECP Episcopal Church of the Philippines E&CS ABM’s Evangelism and Church Support Program GRO Grassroots organisation IDCI International development cooperation institution NGDO Non-governmental development organisation NGO Non-governmental organisation ORA Organisational Review in Australia ORO Organisational Review Overseas PNG Papua New Guinea UNICEF United Nations International Children’s Education Fund UNDP United Nations Development Program UNRRA United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Agency

viii List of diagrams

4.1 Cooperative inquiry cycle p. 100 4.2 Fourfold interaction of inquiry cycle p. 109 5.1 Cooperative inquiry cycle p. 125 5.2 Overview of research inquiry cycles p. 128 5.3 Stages of research p. 142 7.1 Polarity management matrix p. 197 10.1 Foundations of NGO legitimacy p. 256

List of tables

Table 1 Definitions of civil society organisations p. 48 Table 2 Research characteristics of relational research p. 96 Table 3 Cooperative inquiry participants p. 119 Table 4 Inquiry cycle research questions p. 120 Table 5 Historical overview of ABM p. 151

Chapter One: Introduction

What this research is about This research examines the impact on a faith-based non-government organisation (NGO) of engagement with the international aid sector and the Australian Government in the delivery of international development aid. In Australia, the standard of professionalisation of an NGO is measured by compliance with the Code of Conduct of the Australian Council for International Development (ACFID), the peak body for development NGOs, as well as accreditation by the Australian Government’s aid branch, the Australian Agency for International Development (AusAID). Successful accreditation with the Australian Government allows NGOs to apply for greater amounts of funding to be used in development projects. The argument presented in this thesis is that NGO participation in the international development sector is based on relationships of accountability which demand different criteria for success than those relationships of legitimacy derived from membership of a particular faith tradition. A faith-based NGO, as indeed any ideologically-based or grassroots NGO, must remain true to its founding constituency as it grows and professionalises, in order to maintain the relationships from which it derives its legitimacy (Brodhead, 1987). The challenge for a faith- based NGO which is historically constituted as a Christian mission agency is to remain true to its foundational identity while adapting itself to compete and excel within a highly organised and competitive development aid sector.

The research question which this thesis will examine is this: how is a faith-based NGO influenced by its relationship with government and the international aid sector? This is a significant question as governments increase their channelling of development funding through NGOs (Whaites, 1996), of whom a large proportion are faith-based agencies (Green et al., 2002). Many assumptions have been made regarding the value of delivering aid through NGOs (Whaites, 1996, AusAID,

1999, Delise et al., 2005, Dichter, 2003, Edwards, 2003, Hilhorst, 2003), positing that NGOs may be more effective in aid delivery than bilateral or multilateral funding arrangements. However, the evidence regarding aid effectiveness is not consistent (Dichter, 2003, Donelson, 2004, Green et al., 2002, Hansen and Tarp, 2000). Faith-based agencies receive a similar equivocal response, with some authors arguing that the faith stance of the agency influences the way in which services are conceptualised and delivered (Bornstein, 2002), that churches and faith-based agencies are at times more effective in the delivery of health services than local government due to their relationships with communities (Stein-Holmes, 2003), or conversely that claims of effectiveness by faith-based NGOs are not always realised in practice (Green et al., 2002).

The question of the effectiveness of any health service delivery is, of course, an important one for both funders and deliverers of services. However, the motivation behind the organisation of services is less often explored. The reasons why an individual NGO operates in the way that it does are often neglected as a focus for research in favour of the glamour and drama of NGO action ‘in the field’. Yet, as Bornstein (2001b) points out with regard to child sponsorship through World Vision, the strategic aims of an organisation are integral to decisions made regarding the development and delivery of aid projects and services. Indeed, Dichter (2003) argues that the propensity of organisations to seek to perpetuate themselves forms a motivation within international NGOs more often than is acknowledged, with a corresponding diminution of aid effectiveness in favour of the proliferation of NGOs themselves. This thesis argues that if aid is to be effective, and health and other services are to meet the needs of the poor, then the motivations and operations of NGOs are at least as important as the organisation of services themselves. The significance of this study to the development and delivery of health services is the proposition that the intentionality of the organisation is a key component of its effectiveness.

The study reported here is unique in its use of a participatory cooperative inquiry methodology to explore the ways in which the relationship with government influences a faith-based NGO. The cooperative inquiry method has been in use for a number of years and much has been written about the theory and practice of the method as part of the field of qualitative participatory action research (see for instance, Heron, 1981b, Heron, 1981a, Heron, 1996, Heron, 2001b, Heron and Reason, 1997, Kakabadse and Kakabadse, 2002, Lincoln and Guba, 2000, Reason, 1981, Reason, 1988b, Reason, 1988a, Reason, 1998). In addition, there is a growing body of action research papers detailing the experience of the cooperative inquiry method in practice, many available independently via the internet (the Centre for Action Research in Professional Practice is an excellent resource for a range of papers, many arising out of the use of action research methods in consultancy practice: see http://www.bath.ac.uk/carpp/). The foundation of cooperative inquiry as theorised by Heron (1996), Reason (1988a) and others is a highly experiential and team-based exploration of a research topic, using a methodology based on a series of ‘inquiry cycles’ incorporating reflection, action, and sense-making. The study presented here adds to the literature of cooperative inquiry through the presentation of the method’s use in understanding the implications of values and identity on the operations of a small not-for-profit organisation. It is an original contribution in its use of the method as a means for analysing the intentionality of an organisation and creating a reflective space within the organisation to explore its philosophical and theological underpinnings.

The thesis is structured in eleven chapters. Chapter one will provide an introduction to the organisation at the centre of the study as well as outlining the boundaries of the study and the environment in which the study took place. Chapters two and three analyse the literature of international development with particular reference to faith-based NGOs, key theoretical areas since the

organisation being examined is a faith-based agency involved in the international development sector. Chapter four explores the literature of the participatory research paradigm while chapter five presents an overview of cooperative inquiry as it was realised in this particular study. Chapters six through nine analyse the key findings of the inquiry, while chapter ten discusses its relevance and the significant organisational learning which emerged. Chapter eleven concludes by pointing out the relevance of the study to this and other faith-based NGOs, and to the aid sector generally. Ultimately, the thesis will argue that intentionality and action must be grounded in an organisational legitimacy derived through relationships of accountability and a clear articulation of an organisation’s values and identity. Together, these components provide the framework on which the effective development and delivery of health and other services can be built. Without a cognisance of these factors within an organisation’s identity and their influence on intention and action, faith-based organisations run the risk of being caught between their founding constituency and the development sector, while satisfying or serving neither effectively.

Background to the research This thesis tells the story of a year in the 154-year life of the Anglican Board of Mission. During its life, ABM has had a mandate from the Anglican Church in Australia to minister to the indigenous people within Australia and to assist the Anglican Church in other countries to support people in need. Anglican mission has always included activities that are now termed ‘development’. As an example, the Anglican mission to PNG from the beginning included a focus on health care and education. The first qualified nurse joined the Anglican mission in PNG in 1896 (Kettle, 1979).

Since its founding, ABM has provided the services of men and women, and funding, to develop churches as well as education, health and other welfare

services in Australia and in neighbouring countries. The story is not, however, that of a simple bilateral relationship between an NGO and a recipient health service. ABM theorises its involvement in development in terms of its relationships with Anglican churches in other countries. The Anglican Church in Papua New Guinea has particularly close historical and post-colonial ties to the Anglican Church of Australia and specifically to ABM. As will be shown, ABM’s relationship with the Anglican Church in Papua New Guinea is influenced by ABM’s relationship with the Australian Government as an AusAID-accredited NGO, due to additional reporting and monitoring requirements, and through the provision of funding for activities which correspond to Australia’s own foreign policy interests. ABM is influenced as well by its relationship to the Anglican Church of Australia as a separately-incorporated company which is nonetheless constitutionally bound to the General Synod of the Anglican Church of Australia. As both a church-based mission agency and an accredited development agency, ABM balances expectations from government, its church constituency, and its overseas partner churches. These relationships will be analysed and discussed in Chapter Eight.

Sifting through sometimes competing demands from different stakeholders, and developing effective partnerships with government and the community both in Australia and in Anglican churches overseas, requires an enormous expenditure of staff energy, time, and funds long before any essential services such as health and education are actually delivered on the ground. It is necessary to understand the context in which an NGO is determining the priorities for its activities, in order to evaluate its organisational effectiveness overall, including its performance in the field where services are delivered. For this reason, a qualitative study was devised which examined the influence of the Australian Government on ABM’s understanding of itself and its activities. What I and my colleagues came to explore was the organisation’s evolution as a development agency and the effect of this evolution on the activities in which ABM now engages.

Because the methodology used was a highly interactive one, involving me as a co- researcher within an organisation in which I already had a role as a volunteer, the text in this thesis will use the first person in discussing the research, and the work of ABM. I have tried to balance the ‘primary’ research data, which was the experience which I and my colleagues gained, individually and collectively, during the process of research, with the ‘secondary’ research data, which is my academic presentation of the research process and which necessarily creates a sense of distance from the research experience itself. It is in the nature of experiential, participatory qualitative research to begin with the knower and the known (Coffey, 2002, Bradbury and Lichtenstein, 2000, Heron, 1981a, Heron, 2001b), and for that reason this research began with my involvement as a volunteer within a particular Christian NGO.

Introducing the Anglican Board of Mission The Anglican Board of Mission (ABM) is the national mission agency of the Anglican Church of Australia. Its purpose, as stated at the time of the research, is summarised as follows: ABM strives to assist our Partners develop and provide for the spiritual, social and material needs of local people amongst very diverse communities throughout the world. It also seeks to help Australian Anglicans as parishes, schools and committed individuals, realise and respond to the call for each of us to be a part of God’s mission here on earth (Anglican Board of Mission, 2004a:2).

ABM was founded in 1850 and is one of the oldest non-government organisations in Australia (Rugendyke and Zivetz, 1991). The agency works in partnership with Anglican churches in other countries, primarily in the Asia-Pacific region, as well as with indigenous communities in Australia. The partnerships through which ABM works are negotiated independently of the Anglican Church in Australia; that is, ABM works independently as a funding NGO while retaining a structural link to

the Anglican Church of Australia. The partnerships are developed by ABM directly with the partner church, and lead to formalised agreements through which each partner seeks to contribute to and learn from the life of the other. The extent to which these partnerships are true partnerships differs from country to country. Reciprocity and equality are difficult to measure when one partner provides funding to another. ABM is aware of this and seeks increasingly both to assist the partner to attain economic self-sufficiency as well as to recognise the non- economic benefits which the partner can bring to the Australian church, such as clarity of spiritual values and an integrated cultural framework which includes spiritual and relational aspects of society as well as physical and economic factors.

When I joined the organisation as a volunteer Board member in 1998 the work of development was still being conceptualised. The organisation was re-defining its historic role as the mission agency of the Anglican Church of Australia to include a more overt community development focus, through the efforts of the Rev. John Deane, at the time ABM’s Development Officer (and now ABM’s Development Program Coordinator). The organisation had been undertaking small projects in association with the government since about 1982; in the mid-1990s a decision was made by the Board to pursue these opportunities more deliberately. ABM commissioned a consultant to review the organisation and make recommendations about its ability to meet government standards required for accreditation by AusAID. In 1998, ABM achieved base accreditation with AusAID, the lowest of the two levels of accreditation, which demonstrated that the organisation had met certain operational standards. Base accreditation allowed ABM to apply for funding up to a capped level of $100,000, and to tender for projects through AusAID’s various programs. Full accreditation, the next and highest level of government accreditation, demanded a higher standard of accountability. This level was not sought in 1998 due to the need for ABM to develop separate organisational systems, particularly financial systems, to clearly delineate the

evangelism and development activities of the organisation. However, ABM did make an internal commitment to try to attain the standards which would allow the agency to receive full accreditation, a status which was awarded in March 2005.

In the years since I first joined the organisation as a volunteer, I have watched as ABM developed closer ties with AusAID, and as the organisation evolved to meet the requirements of AusAID accreditation. The Board and the Development Committee (a sub-committee of the Board) have discussed what it means as a Christian organisation to undertake development work. ABM has sought to demonstrate to AusAID and ACFID that development can be separated from the organisation’s ‘core business’ of Christian mission, while retaining within the organisation an understanding of development as a form of mission. I have wondered what we mean by ‘development’, and whether this is the most effective way for us as an organisation to act as an agent of the Church’s commitment to the poorest of the poor. I have also wondered whether receiving funding from government compromises in any way the faith-based values by which we operate.

In 2000, ABM created its Community Development Program in order to separate structurally its development work from its religious activities. Within the Community Development Program, ABM has concentrated on projects which seek to alleviate poverty, encouraging the development of sustainable mechanisms and processes on which to build healthy communities. ABM has assisted Anglican churches in developing countries to run schools and health clinics, provide clean water, and undertake health-promoting activities such as providing malaria nets and HIV/AIDS education. There have been contributions in agriculture and economics as well, through assistance to partner churches to develop such economic projects as goat-raising, seed cooperatives, facilities for rice and food- drying, and the development of micro-finance projects.

At the same time in 2000, ABM separated its mission activities into a second Program called the Evangelism and Church Support Program, which supports activities aimed at strengthening Christian life and witness in partner churches and in indigenous Australia. This Program includes theological training and church growth activities within indigenous Australian communities; support for children’s homes in Korea; provision of ministers and theological educators for the church in Papua New Guinea; literacy and leadership programs. ABM and its work are discussed in greater detail in chapters six to eight.

The decade from 1995-2005 has seen the enhancement of ABM’s own capacity in its strengthened articulation of strategic aims and objectives, improved recording and measurement capabilities for evaluation purposes, and streamlined financial processes in order to be eligible to apply for government accreditation. To ensure to AusAID’s satisfaction that funds were not being used for evangelism purposes, ABM’s two Programs have developed separate administrative processes as well as separate planning and strategic policy development.

The study presented here started with the fact of the organisation’s structural development along lines designed to satisfy government requirements, and explored the confluence of a number of complex practical and philosophical issues: • the liminal space of an NGO which represents a faith community but which works with external stakeholders such as AusAID and the peak body for development NGOs, the Australian Council for International Development; • the international development sector and its web of relationships between communities, NGOs, governments, and multi-lateral donors; and • the dynamic organisational context in which all of these competing priorities and needs come together.

These issues will surface throughout the following chapters, as I illustrate the operational and relational life of an Australian faith-based agency.

Conceptualising the research I began the research with a number of assumptions, and I state these here as the grounding out of which the research question arose. I believed that the relationship between funding government and funded faith-based development NGO had the potential to influence the nature and development of services provided in-country. This was based on my experience within ABM and my understanding of the opportunities which government funding provided. The ability to gain government funding, to my mind, had the potential to skew the priorities of NGOs towards those activities which could be funded by government.

I also began with the assumption that transnational faith-based NGOs have a power to influence society within the recipient country, for better or worse. They do so through their social and moral framework of values as well as through the provision of health and other essential services.

Finally, it seemed that Australian church-based international development NGOs, a subset of faith-based NGOs, had the potential to influence civil society as an outcome of their integral association with the recipient community. That is, Australian church-based agencies are closely connected to churches and communities in recipient countries. These associations are based on a shared worldview and create opportunities to reach into local communities in ways which are difficult if not impossible for governments to match. The membership of the Anglican Church of Melanesia, for instance, comprises more than a third of the population of the Solomon Islands, giving that church a powerful voice in public discourse and also a critical mass of people across the country to contribute to the development and delivery of services. Agencies which engage with the Church of

Melanesia have an entry into local communities which other NGOs might not be able to achieve.

The research question which emerged from these assumptions was: How is a faith- based NGO influenced by its relationship with government and the international aid sector?

A central argument of this thesis is that faith-based agencies bring to their work a set of values grounded in a religious belief system. In the case of agencies which are Christian, this set of values forms an ethic derived from the example of Jesus of Nazareth and his uncompromising teaching regarding humanity’s relationship to God. This thesis is not the place to analyse comprehensively the theological foundations of the Christian faith. The purpose of the study is to explore the consequences of the interaction between this faith-based value set as it is lived out within the development sector. However, I will explore briefly the values underpinning faith-based agencies and will argue for the distinctiveness of faith- based agencies within the aid sector. Ultimately, I will seek to demonstrate that, for one Christian agency at least, there are significant consequences which emerge from joining the international development sector and undertaking to receive and distribute government aid funding. These consequences are evidenced, in part, in the increased requirements of accountability to both government and the aid sector. They highlight the need for an agency such as ABM to ground itself in those values and relationships which provide legitimacy to its activities, so as not to lose sight of its primary accountability to its founding community.

Conceptual boundaries of the research While ABM is the official mission agency of the Anglican Church of Australia, it is also an accredited NGO working within the international development sector. A non-government organisation is, as its name implies, a group which identifies itself oppositionally; that is, it is not part of the government. NGOs operate within the

realm of civil society, that area of social interaction described by van Rooy as “the population of groups formed for collective purposes primarily outside of the State and marketplace” (quoted in Lewis, 2002:570). AusAID defines an NGO as “a voluntary, not-for-profit community organisation, which undertakes international development cooperation and/or development education” (AusAID, 2005e). NGOs may, however, be organised for any number of purposes within society, from local community welfare to international environmental interests, from voluntary associations to groups delivering essential health and education services. Maddison et al. (2004:1) states that NGOs “are an essential component of a healthy democracy” due to their contribution to a free and dynamic society through the principle of voluntary association. The authors note that Australia has around 700,000 NGOs, including all formal groupings from community bowls clubs to labour unions. The research in this thesis looked solely at a faith-based NGO involved in the international development sector, one example of a small subset within this large non-government sector in Australia.

For the purposes of this study, I define an NGO which is faith-based as one which publicly declares, in its literature, affiliations or resources, an allegiance to a particular religious tradition. This includes but is not limited to church-based NGOs, which are located within or affiliated to a particular Christian denomination. That is, an NGO may be faith-based (ie Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist or from another faith tradition), but not church-based (ie identifying as part of a Christian denomination such as Catholic, Anglican or Lutheran), while all church-based NGOs are by definition also faith-based. In general, within this thesis the term ‘faith-based’ is used to denote those NGOs which trace their origins and identity to a particular faith tradition, and may include denominational agencies as well as transnational Christian agencies. The term ‘church-based’ is more specific and refers only to those Christian NGOs which are affiliated with a particular church. For instance, Quaker Service Australia and the Adventist

Development and Relief Agency are agencies which within their titles define themselves as part of a denominational tradition, the Society of Friends and the Seventh-Day Adventists respectively. African Enterprise and Opportunity International Australia are examples of faith-based agencies which are not church- based1. The Anglican Board of Mission is a faith-based organisation and is defined as such generally. It may also be referred to as church-based, when specifying its identity more clearly, such as making explicit the agency’s donor support base. As the subject of this research, the character, culture and activities of ABM will be presented and analysed in detail in the following pages.

It should be noted, however, that the focus on Christian faith-based agencies, and specifically on a particular Christian agency, is not an attempt to diminish the contribution of other faith-based, and other values-based, agencies. Worldwide, there are significant international development organisations which are Buddhist, Jewish, Muslim, or aligned with other religious traditions. There are many organisations and NGOs which are values-based, but not faith-based, as there are many organisations and NGOs which are faith-based but not Christian. Focussing on one specific agency was a methodological decision arising out of the research question and the opportunity presented by my own affiliation with a faith-based development agency. This research makes no statement whatsoever about the values or nature of other faith-based organisations, their inherent worth, or their contribution to international development. It may be that the conclusions of this thesis are applicable to other faith-based NGOs (Christian or otherwise) and other values-based or ideologically-driven organisations. However, the intention of the research was to explore one agency in depth to understand the nature of that single

1 African Enterprise states: “We are Christian, interdenominational and interracial” (see www.africanenterprise.com.au) Opportunity International states: “Opportunity International is a Christian organisation, but it is not a church. It is not the job of Micro-Enterprise Development organisations to plant churches, replace or increase the church. We assist churches in their responsibility to follow the Biblical commandment to practically demonstrate God’s love”. (see www.opportunity.org.au)

organisation, rather than to develop conclusions about faith-based agencies in general and therefore any transferability of the learning presented here will be for other agencies to determine as they examine their own organisational learning.

Just over half (23/44) of all the accredited agencies through which AusAID funds essential health and other programs in developing countries are Christian agencies (AusAID, 2005c). Accredited agencies are those which have demonstrated to AusAID that they meet certain standards of accountability and administration. Once accredited, an organisation will be reviewed on a five-yearly basis to ensure their ongoing adherence to the standards2. The 44 accredited agencies include a wide range of organisations from small, single-issue NGOs such as the Australian Cranio-Maxillo Facial Foundation to large-scale global agencies such as the United Nations International Children’s Education Fund (UNICEF), and from small church-based agencies such as ABM to large transnational faith-based Christian agencies such as World Vision. Between these 44 Australian NGOs, AusAID distributed $94,804,226 in funding in the year 2003-2004 (AusAID, 2005d). The largest development agency in Australia, and indeed in the world, is World Vision, a Christian organisation which in 2004/2005 received 41% of the contributions made by the Australian public to international development agencies (ACFID, 2005). Seven of the top 14 recipients of Australian public donations in 2004/2005 were Christian agencies (ACFID, 2005:10)3.

It is timely, therefore, to engage in research which seeks to understand the work of faith-based NGOs, particularly to explore the ways in which they conceptualise their own contribution to the aid sector. The research project reported here sought

2 for further information on accreditation, please see http://www.ausaid.gov.au/ngos/display.cfm?sectionref=4643028894&CFID=1709826&CFTOKEN =89436771. 3 World Vision with 41%, Compassion Australia (4.23%), Christian Children’s Fund Australia (3.69%), Christian Blind Mission International Australia (3.05%), Samaritan’s Purse Australia Limited (3.02%), Caritas Australia (2.80%), and Adventist Development & Relief Agency (1.70%).

to understand faith-based NGOs using a participatory research methodology within a particular agency, the Anglican Board of Mission. The choice of agency, and the focus on faith-based NGOs, arose out of my own involvement with the organisation. The Anglican Board of Mission, as will be seen, is explicitly Christian and closely linked to the history and culture, not only of Australia and the Anglican Church in Australia, but with the colonial heritage of the Church of England. In the 21st century, ABM continues to contribute to the history and culture of Australia and the culture and society of other countries, through its activities as a Christian mission agency and its participation in the Australian aid sector.

Australian involvement in international aid The scope of AusAID’s work is immense, spanning a number of countries and involving the expenditure of millions of dollars annually as well as the deployment of thousands of people. Australia’s total commitment to Official Development Assistance in 2005-2006 was approximately $2.491 billion (AusAID, 2005a). Australia has a long history of working with and supporting countries within its geographical region, and particularly its nearest northern neighbour, Papua New Guinea (PNG). A report within the aid sector identified the extent to which Australian NGOs take an active part in contributing to the development of PNG, naming “40 agencies working with over 200 partner organisations on more than 150 programs/projects involving around 400 staff and volunteers”(ACFOA, 2003).

Although this thesis is an in-depth study of one Australian faith-based agency, Australia’s assistance to PNG is discussed within this chapter and at other times throughout the thesis because of its relevance to the Anglican Board of Mission. PNG is not only the biggest recipient of Australia’s development assistance; the Anglican Church of Papua New Guinea is the biggest recipient of assistance from ABM. This Church has been receiving support from ABM since 1891 when the

first missionaries were sent by the Church of England in Australia to New Guinea. Both historically and emotionally the ties between the Australian and Papua New Guinean Anglican Churches remain strong.

In a sign of AusAID’s increased interest in the contribution of the churches to service delivery in PNG, the agency commissioned a report looking at the role of the churches in PNG (Stein-Holmes, 2003). This report acknowledged that the churches are an integral part of the civic structures of PNG, providing a majority of health and other services on behalf of the PNG Government, and demonstrating a high level of integration between the church organisations and the structures of government (Stein-Holmes, 2003). The report states, “this research reveals that churches have a far more substantial role in the development of PNG than is generally acknowledged. The potential of churches as an element of development in PNG has been vastly undervalued to date and is notably under-theorised” (Stein- Holmes, 2003:3). It is noted that the extent of church influence is difficult to measure or quantify; however, given that 99% of the PNG population identify themselves as Christian (Hauck et al., 2005, Stein-Holmes, 2003), it is certain that the role of the churches in shaping community and even regional and national morals and behaviour is significant. The Stein-Holmes report itself is of significance because it signals the growing recognition within AusAID of the integral role of the churches in contributing to the development of communities and societies within PNG, and a move towards theorising the role of the churches as a positive factor in social and economic development. Concurrently, other initiatives within AusAID were leading the government to consider ways of working more closely with faith-based agencies, and in particular the church-based agencies active in PNG.

The Church Partnership Program The Church Partnership Program (CPP) evolved out of discussions held between AusAID and three church agencies, ABM, the Adventist Development and Relief

Agency (ADRA), and Caritas Australia (Caritas) in 2003. The three agencies had voluntarily participated in a peer review exercise (Nichols, 2003), examining NGO effectiveness as assessed by the ACFOA4 Quality Framework. Case studies of one development project undertaken by each Australian agency and their counterpart church agency in PNG were reviewed by a team of representatives from the agencies led by a consultant, with each agency participating equally in the oversight of the research and in the articulation of findings. The case studies which were reviewed were ongoing programs in PNG: a leadership training program provided by Caritas, a high school managed by the Anglican Church of PNG, and HIV/AIDS awareness training conducted by ADRA. It was found that while each project had its own strengths and weaknesses, each project’s effectiveness could be attributed to a set of common ‘critical factors’ (Nichols, 2003:2), based upon the particular church’s relationship with the local community and its grounding in the life and culture of the local society. These critical factors were defined as ‘relationships’, ‘connection to the local community’, ‘adaptiveness’, ‘taking a long- term view’, and ‘commitment and quality of local staff’.

The Review noted that while the churches were effective to the extent that their resources allowed, they were hampered by the lack of capacity of the PNG government to adequately provide essential services or to delegate resources to the churches as service providers. Law and order issues, another consequence of the weak government, further constrained the churches in providing services to the extent that they were needed. The Review made clear, however, that within these constraints the churches were functioning effectively, and that their work made a significant impact upon the local communities. The NGO Peer Review demonstrated that each church agency had significant experience and expertise in their areas of work. While the purpose of the Review had been to assess the

4 The Australian Council for Overseas Aid changed its name to the Australian Council for International Development (ACFID) in 2004; references use either designation depending upon the time of publication.

validity of the ACFOA Quality Framework for NGOs, one of the outcomes of the review was a greater understanding of each agency’s operations and an idea that they might be able to share knowledge and experience with one another (Nichols, 2003).

The project which became the Church Partnership Program was first presented to the Development Committee of ABM for consideration in May 2003 as an idea for closer cooperation in PNG between the churches and AusAID, following the positive collaboration which had characterised the NGO Peer Review. The Development Committee gave approval for ABM to continue discussions with AusAID and the other agencies, recognising the potential which a collaborative program might offer to the ACPNG. Over the next six months, there were regular meetings and frequent email discussions between church agencies. While initially the partnership included the Anglican, Catholic, and Adventist agencies, by August 2003 that group had expanded to include the Salvation Army, Baptist, Lutheran, and the Uniting Church agencies as well. These seven churches were the largest mainstream denominations in Papua New Guinea, all of which had accredited Australian NGO counterparts. The Anglican Church is one of the smallest of these, with only 3-5% of the PNG population identifying as Anglicans; however, its long presence in the country, its links to the colonial structures of the past, and the influence of the Anglican school system make it a significant stakeholder in PNG (Stein-Holmes, 2003). None of these agencies, nor for that matter the churches themselves in PNG, had ever worked together in formal partnership on a single program before, although most of the churches belonged to the Council of Churches in PNG and thus had some interaction with each other.

The CPP is, therefore, a unique and innovative program on a number of levels. First, it is a new initiative for the Australian Government to seek to work with Australian accredited church agencies specifically because of their affiliation to

churches in a developing country. Second, it is the first time that the PNG churches themselves, or their Australian NGO counterparts, have collaborated so closely on a program. Third, it is an innovation for the Australian Government to contribute directly to the institutional strengthening of religious organisations, not for the purposes of the growth of those institutions but so that churches are better able to care for local communities. Finally, the program carries a significant element of risk for all parties – AusAID, Australian NGOs, and PNG churches - as it takes place within a larger political climate of uncertainty (Okole, 2004, Gomez, 2004a, Hughes, 2004, Windybank and Manning, 2003). The relationship between Australia and PNG at the time of this program was in a delicate transition as Australia adopted a more interventionist stance in approach to all levels of PNG government. As stated by AusAID, the program seeks to strengthen the social stability of PNG through working directly with the churches as part of civil society (AusAID, 2004). This notion of direct intervention in society rather than through bilateral aid to the government is contentious, and some questions have been raised as to whether the CPP heralds an intention to work more closely with church organisations in other countries (House of Representatives, 2005:118-119).

The scope of the activities which can be funded under the CPP is broad, across three categories: • building civil society, through activities which improve governance, accountability, peacebuilding and conflict resolution, civic education, and community participation; • strengthening church capacity, so that church institutions are better able to contribute to development, through such activities as leadership training, financial management, human resource development; and • service delivery, improving essential services (such as health and education) delivered to local communities by the churches.

The significance of this program lies in the willingness of the Australian Government to channel funds through Australian accredited church-based NGOs to Christian churches in PNG in an attempt to strengthen civil society directly rather than through the PNG Government, with the aim of ensuring the delivery of basic services to the population. Through AusAID, Australia is providing $2.9 million in the first year of a five-year program to help improve basic services for the people of PNG...The churches have a long history of supporting development in PNG. With extensive networks in remote and isolated areas of the country, it has often fallen to them to provide basic services...The partnerships can only help strengthen Australia’s overall contribution to development and greater social stability in PNG (AusAID, 2004).

The CPP became a major component of ABM’s Community Development (ComDev) Program during 2004, the year in which the research fieldwork took place. ABM’s PNG program was already the largest of its commitments, with over half of ABM’s development funds being applied to the ACPNG (Anglican Board of Mission, 2004a). The addition of the CPP to ComDev’s portfolio of activities in PNG had implications for the organisation as a whole, as it increased significantly the work of one of the agency’s two Programs. This is an issue for the organisation as it has endeavoured to balance the two Programs, Community Development and Evangelism & Church Support. Until the advent of the CPP the two had been relatively equal in levels of activity and funding.

Summary The CPP demonstrates the relationships which will be analysed within this thesis: between ABM and its counterpart Anglican Church partner overseas, between ABM and the aid sector, between ABM and AusAID, within ABM across Programs, and between ABM and the Anglican Church of Australia. Specifically, the thesis analyses the influence of these relationships on the life of ABM, rather than examining the relationships themselves. The context of the organisational

study is that of a small faith-based development agency engaged in assisting the delivery of health, education and other essential services, in Papua New Guinea and elsewhere in the Asia-Pacific region. Through a detailed exploration of the impact of relationships within and upon ABM, this research uncovers the basis upon which policy is determined, projects are designed, and decisions are made which ultimately impact upon the nature and quality of international development aid delivered to people in need. In this way, the project provides a unique insight into the operational dynamics of a faith-based agency as it seeks to act with integrity in the midst of sometimes competing demands from its stakeholders.

The focus of this thesis is a single faith-based Australian development agency. In chapters two and three, the literature of the international development sector will be reviewed, with a specific focus on the role of faith-based organisations within that sector. Christian notions of development, and their convergence or divergence with notions of mission, will also be analysed. A detailed discussion of the qualitative participatory paradigm, and its applicability for this context, will be presented in chapters four and five. The research method was that of cooperative inquiry in which I, as participant researcher, and my colleagues, several staff members of ABM, collaboratively engaged in a series of three learning cycles over a 12-month period, designed to help us explore questions which emerged through collective reflection. The nature of the qualitative method, and the specificity of the results, provide a detailed picture of the culture and learning process within a single organisation. Of necessity, it is not possible to generalise from this to develop theory applicable to all faith-based organisations, or to the development sector itself. However, the questions which have been raised through the research are ones which, I suggest, are of importance to all faith-based non-government organisations.

The story of my immersion within the organisation as a co-researcher/co-subject, culminating in the year of inquiry, will be analysed and its implications discussed in chapters six through nine. Finally, the importance of this research for government, faith-based NGOs, and the development sector will be argued in chapter ten, and further questions identified in chapter eleven.

To understand the nature of the context in which ABM currently operates, it is neccesary to understand the international development sector in which ABM’s community development activities take place. Chapter two defines this sector and briefly outlines its history before identifying several key concepts which are of relevance to this research.

Key points:

• Faith-based agencies form a significant percentage of the international development aid sector. • The Australian government has demonstrated an explicit interest in working with faith-based agencies, particularly through the CPP in PNG. • One faith-based agency, the Anglican Board of Mission, has both influenced and been influenced by its involvement with government international development policy and the aid sector. • The research reported here is a participatory exploration of the influence of these relationships and their consequences for ABM.

Chapter Two: International aid and non-governmental organisations

Defining international development aid After more than 50 years of development aid, it is clear that the billions of dollars poured into foreign aid have not achieved the goals of poverty alleviation, economic development, enhanced well-being, and peaceful coexistence for millions of people in Latin America, Africa, and Asia (Fowler, 1997, Kim et al., 2000, Verhelst, 1987, Pogge, 2001a, Wolfensohn and Bourguignon, 2004, Dichter, 2003, Hansen and Tarp, 2000). By any number of indicators, there is great inequality extant in the world, between rich and poor in any given country, and between countries in Africa, Asia and Latin America in comparison with those of Europe and North America. There are disparities in wealth and well-being between countries within Europe, and within populations in those countries. The same disparities can be found between countries and populations in Asia, Africa and Latin America. Although critics can be found on the left and the right of the political spectrum5, there is general acknowledgement that development aid so far has not been successful in alleviating some of the world population’s most pressing problems, such as safe water, human security, food security, access to education and primary health care, and HIV/AIDS. A recent economic ranking exercise, the Copenhagen Consensus, put health and water challenges as 7 of the top 9 priorities for world development (Economist, 2004c), confirming the argument of Dichter (2003) and others that 50 years of Western development efforts have not been able to provide the most basic of human needs for billions of people around the globe.

5 compare, for instance, Kim, et al. (2000) who argue that economic globalisation has worsened the health and well-being of the world's poor, and Wolfensohn and Bourguignon (2004) who argue that global markets are at least part of the solution.

This chapter defines and explores the nature of international development aid, providing a background for the research presented in this thesis. International development is one component of a much broader field of international relations, comprising not only the history and politics of nations but also broader social, cultural and economic movements within and between nations. While international development could usefully be critiqued from other theoretical perspectives, this chapter attempts only to understand international development within a relatively narrow perspective of its relation to culture and social factors. These are the factors which are most prominent in the environment in which the research was conducted and provide the most cohesive framework in which to understand the activities of faith-based organisations working in development.

The activities which are now called ‘development assistance’, ‘official development assistance’, ‘overseas development aid’, ‘sustainable development’, or simply ‘development’ evolved out of the optimistic mid-20th century enthusiasm to share the burgeoning wealth and technology of the post-war United States with the rest of the world. By the early 21st century this drive had grown into an industry which has spent more than US$1.7 trillion (Dichter, 2003:2) since the 1960s in efforts to improve the living standards of the world’s poorest people. The word ‘development’ connotes a positive progression from one state to another, enhanced state. Development activities are defined by Brodhead (1987:1) as “increasing the local capacity to meet basic needs and control the resources necessary for sustainable development”, a somewhat circular definition since sustainable development thus becomes the goal of development.

Within the literature, the term ‘development’ is often used alongside, sometimes linked with and sometimes synonymously with the terms ‘aid’ or ‘assistance’, generally to imply the transfer of resources from a wealthy country to a poorer one, either through bilateral aid (direct from one country to another), multilateral aid

(delivered through transnational institutions such as the World Bank), or independent aid (delivered through NGOs and other agencies on behalf of the donor government) (Shakow and Irwin, 2000:50). Aid can include the provision of funding, material resources, human resources, knowledge and expertise, and/or technology. The Australian Government defines Official Development Assistance, for instance, as that aid which is delivered by official agencies, is provided with the primary objective of promoting the economic development and welfare of a developing country, and is ‘concessional in character’ with a grant component (AusAID, 2005e:70). Together, ‘development’ and ‘aid’ are intended, at least theoretically, to generate opportunities for people in so-called ‘developing’ countries to attain similar material and social living standards as those experienced by people living in ‘developed’ countries.

Within this thesis, the word ‘development’ refers to this modern global movement of activities and actions, often carried out by the ‘development sector’, those voluntary or professional individuals or organisations who operate in conjunction with governments and multilateral agencies to implement policies with respect to providing assistance to the poor. The Australian Government uses the terms ‘development assistance’ and ‘overseas aid’ to describe the funding and activities which it provides to other countries, with the aim of achieving ‘sustainable development’ in those countries (AusAID, 2005b:1), ie a state in which the recipient country is able to sustain itself without further need for aid.

It is difficult, in talking about the disparity between wealthy and poor countries, to avoid dichotomous terms, such as developed-developing, industrialised- industrialising, North-South, or majority-minority (where the minority refers to the wealthy and powerful, and the majority refers to the world’s population of poor). These terms are themselves attempts to move away from the early description of First World-Third World proposed by Sauvy (Shakow and Irwin, 2000:47), with

the value judgement implied by the hierarchy of numbers. Verhelst (1987:5) notes that the use of the term Third World “must be questioned on the grounds that it will soon be three quarters of humanity whom we continue to diminish by means of this misleading mathematical term.” Even so, he continues to use the term ‘Third World’ because of its familiarity and as a political reminder of the power imbalance between peoples of the world. Huntington (1996) suggests that these temptingly simple dualities mask a far more complex reality, and proposes instead a model based on the inter-relations of seven major civilisations (Sinic, Japanese, Hindu, Islamic, Orthodox, Western, Latin American) with a possible eighth African civilisation. In each of these and between these are found strengths and weaknesses, inequities of power and prosperity as well as cultural differences (Huntington, 1996).

The terms ‘West’ or ‘Western’ are often used to describe the so-called developed world. Specifically they refer to the civilisation which evolved within the countries of Western Europe and which was brought to North America. This Western civilisation is based upon a cultural and philosophical heritage descended from the merging of Greek, Jewish and Roman and indigenous European cultures (Huntington, 1996, Ehrenberg, 1999), formed during centuries of Catholic Christendom (Banner, 2002) and forged during the Protestant Reformation (Grondona, 2000, Lamb, 1992)6. The term tends to exclude Latin America which, although it shares a (southern) European cultural heritage, also retains a strong indigenous cultural identity, and which has not enjoyed (for a number of complex political, economic and cultural reasons) the same levels of prosperity and power which were experienced by Europe and North America (Huntington, 2000, Harrison, 2000). When the terms ‘West’ and ‘Western’ are used in this thesis they

6Lamb notes that the followers of Jean Calvin, the 16th century French Christian reformer, “are said to have worked out a sacralized interpretation of industriousness”, thereby pointing the way to an ethic of production which is worthy in and of itself. Lamb, M. L. 1992, 'Theology and money: rationality, religion, and economics', The American Behavioral Scientist, vol. 35, no. 6, pp. 735- 755.p. 742.

refer to the current stage of Western civilisation as exemplified through the northern-European/North American, Protestant, cultural heritage. The terms ‘developed’ and ‘developing’ are themselves concepts which were described by Western theorists and used to distinguish primarily between Western and non- Western countries. As these terms are generally in use within the literature of international development, this thesis continues with their use, recognising that the terms themselves are problematic and suggest a political assumption that the path of development experienced by Western countries is appropriate for other parts of the world. I have not used the terms ‘North’ and ‘South’ (except when quoting from the literature) for the reason that Australia, the country in which I write this thesis, is located in the South and yet does not fit the description of ‘under- developed’ which is often applied to countries in the southern hemisphere. Australia itself is a geographical anomaly in this respect: its dominant governing culture is northern European in heritage, although it is located in the South and also, broadly speaking, in the East, while undoubtedly Western in cultural terms, pointing to the inadequacy of terminology to describe complex global regions and trends.

The evolution of international development The ethic of helping individuals and communities is not a new phenomenon, however what is now understood as international development has few historical precedents in terms of the notion of sustained assistance provided to nations and peoples in need. Hjertholm and White (2000:81) trace the roots of contemporary development to the 19th century, citing American aid to Venezuela as an early example of donor assistance. More recently, the seeds of the 21st century development sector were sown in the post-World War II international consensus which also saw the formation of the United Nations, and a Marshall plan for reconstructing Western Europe (Hjertholm and White, 2000). An optimism pervaded this post-war period, emanating particularly from a United States flush with confidence and the resources with which to be generous to its allies while

building Cold War alliances in opposition to the communist bloc. Fifty years later, in the face of evidence demonstrating variable success in building more peaceful and prosperous nations, many development theorists have begun to deconstruct the notion of international development efforts as a solution to a nation’s economic and social needs (Dichter, 2003, Kim et al., 2000, Pogge, 2001b).

Like Hjertholm and White (2000), Thorbecke (2000) provides a careful analysis of the various phases of development theory for the second half of the 20th century, suggesting that each decade was characterised by a particular approach to development aid. Thus, the 1950s were predominantly a period of large-scale investment, and the transfer of resources from industrialised countries in the West to those determined to be in need of development. The 1960s saw a furthering of this strategy with the beginning of sectoral approaches to development, in agriculture and industry particularly. By the 1970s there was longitudinal evidence that the previous emphasis on growth (of economies and sectors) had not achieved the outcomes of wealth and well-being. This factor, combined with the growing liberation movements in former colonial states, led development theorists to emphasise poverty alleviation and a greater sophistication in the conceptualisation of interlinked social, economic, political, and environmental factors. The 1980s are referred to by Thorbecke as the ‘lost development decade’ (2000:33), as the extent of indebtedness of poor countries following years of Western loans became clear, and structural adjustment strategies began to be implemented. The 1990s came to form a transitional period, with growing awareness of the ineffectiveness of assistance, growing ‘aid fatigue’, and increasing calls for debt relief (culminating in the grassroots Jubilee 2000 movement for debt relief at the time of the millennium, and leading to the 2005 popular movement to Make Poverty History7).

7 see www.jubilee2000uk.org and www.makepovertyhistory.org.au

At the turn of the 21st century, Harrison (2000:296) noted that “a new paradigm – an inward-looking theory that focuses on cultural values and attitudes – is gradually filling the explanatory vacuum left by the collapse of dependency theory.” A number of other scholars argue for the importance of culture as “an independent or explanatory variable” (Huntington, 2000:xv) which influences a country’s ability to embrace economic and social development. Culture, in this argument, is the one thing which previous development theories have ignored, and is the critical factor to be addressed if the failures of the past few decades are to be redeemed.

The place of culture in development Verhelst (1987) also considers culture to be an essential component of development. He analyses two development theories popular in the latter decades of the 20th century, the ‘trickle-down’ theory and the ‘dependency’ theory. ‘Trickle-down’ theory, or ‘catching-up’ theory as Verhelst prefers, argued that differences between countries were attributable to their position along an identifiable spectrum of development; countries which were poor were therefore not as advanced as wealthy countries, but could become so by adopting the same economic and social policies which the wealthy countries had devised. Shakow and Irwin (2000) note that the ‘trickle-down’ theory was a response to Keynesian economics with its notion of government regulation of markets in order to assist the poor; the authors describe the Keynesian approach as ‘bubble-up’ theory in contrast to the neoliberal assumption that an unfettered market will allow wealth to ‘trickle-down’ to the poor (Shakow and Irwin, 2000:53). Whether Keynesian or neoliberal, however, these theories were grounded in a view of economics as the key to development.

Dependency theory, on the other hand, argued that the poverty of the Third World was explained by the exploitation of colonialism and the creation of relationships

of dependence. Independence, therefore, would solve the problem which was grounded in a history of oppression (Verhelst, 1987). Verhelst argues that all of these theories leave aside the complex dynamics by which the North and South have interacted and continue to interact culturally and socially, so that separating the two at this juncture of time is difficult in order to return to a purity of indigenous culture. At the same time, it is essential to recognise the narrow intellectual mind-set from which any of these theories were developed in the West and then exported without consideration of indigenous perceptions or systemic injustices. Arguing that culture is the ‘forgotten dimension’, Verhelst writes that we must question the high number of organisers of social projects and activities who belong to a philosophical or religious world that is different from those of the people for whose benefit they claim to be working. Even those Western and Asian NGOs who sincerely try to support Buddhist, Hindu or tribal organisers, finance in practice too high a percentage of projects devised and directed by partners who are atheist or Christian (Verhelst, 1987:21).

It is not that one cannot work outside of one’s culture group or understanding. It is certainly possible for people of different religious and cultural traditions to work together. Rather, Verhelst argues that “all the models, whether left-wing or right- wing, have been based on Western preconceptions. The indigenous cultures of the peoples of the Third World have been largely neglected. There is an urgent need to pay much greater attention to these than we have in the past” (1987:22).

Huntington describes culture as: “the values, attitudes, beliefs, orientations, and underlying assumptions prevalent among people in a society.” (Huntington 2000:xv) Like Verhelst, Huntington argues that culture is the forgotten factor in economic development. However, while Verhelst sees the imposition of Western culture on indigenous cultures as the source of development aid’s failures, Huntington suggests that the lack of economic development in impoverished countries is due to the indigenous culture’s failure to embrace Northern European, liberal democratic culture and values.

In the book Culture Matters, this idea that culture is an essential determinant of development is debated by a number of scholars, including Huntington, as cited above. Within this same volume, Shweder describes culture as “community- specific ideas about what is true, good, beautiful, and efficient. To be ‘cultural’, those ideas about truth, goodness, beauty, and efficiency must be socially inherited and customary, and they must actually be constitutive of different ways of life” (Shweder, 2000:163). Shweder’s view is much closer to Verhelst’s view; as a self- described ‘cultural pluralist’ Shweder argues that, while there may be a set of universal cultural values, there are a vast diversity of expressions of those values. Not only will each society make its own decisions as to the priorities which their culture assigns to those values, but they have the indisputable right to determine the values which they will uphold: If economic growth is contingent on accepting the deep or thick aspects of Western culture (e.g., individualism, ideals of femininity, egalitarianism, the Bill of Rights), then cultures will not converge and will not develop economically because their sense of identity will supersede their desire for material wealth (Shweder, 2000:171).

These disparate views of the nature of progress and the influence of culture encapsulate the dilemma of development in the early 21st century: that it is, in itself, a Western notion of economic and social improvement based upon the values of a Judeo-Christian European heritage. Slim (1997:247) notes that a true moral dilemma is “a choice between two wrongs”, and that in such a situation one tries to do the least harm but will always regret the inevitable harm which was done. While Slim was discussing moral dilemmas in the context of relief agencies acting in political emergencies, the same analysis holds in many instances for international development agencies today. In the case of development, the dilemma is between respecting the authority of another culture, even when it condones practices and traditions which are (in the minds of development experts) unethical or unhelpful, or imposing Western cultural norms which are measurably

beneficial but in conflict with the prevailing culture. How, for instance, does one advocate for the abolition of female genital circumcision, abhorrent to Western values, in the face of local groups arguing for its conception as an ethno-cultural norm?8

According to Verhelst (1987), well-meaning NGOs must look beyond their own cultures and assumptions to recognise the validity of indigenous cultures and to work within those cultural norms to assist locals to develop their own responses to problems. Verhelst attributes many of the failures of development projects to the unrecognised resistance of indigenous communities in the face of projects which do not fit within their own worldview. Rather than seeing cultural aspects of developing countries as obstacles to be overcome, the author argues for their valorisation as legitimate sources of solutions.

In contrast, Harrison (2000:296) suggests that a ‘culture-centred paradigm’ has developed in recent years to explain the lack of sustainable development progress in parts of the world, arguing that ‘progressive cultures’ exhibit certain values and norms which are lacking in ‘static cultures’. Grondona (2000) goes further, arguing that there are two cultural typologies: one conducive to development, and the other resistant to development, recognising that these two extremes do not exist in reality but are ends of a spectrum. The author examines twenty different cultural factors, including religion, morality, work, and authority, to argue that ultimately it will be a society’s choice as to whether its intrinsic values are resistant to development as defined by currently hegemonic Western capitalism. Writing from Latin America, Grondona notes that Catholic countries as well as non-Christian countries have been faced with this choice, and ponders whether the Latin American countries will follow suit in choosing to change their culture. “In the

8 Thomas uses this example of the clash between “the conception of religion as an ethno-cultural group...pitted against the conception of religion as individual-voluntaristic.” Thomas, G. M. 2001, 'Religions in global civil society', Sociology of Religion, vol. 62, no. 4, pp. 515-533.

1980s – the ‘lost decade’ - Latin America experienced an economic crisis precipitated by its resistant values. It remains to be seen whether Latin America will in fact achieve the lofty heights of economic development, democratization, and modernization” (Grondona, 2000:55).

Verhelst (1987) begins from a perspective that each community’s worldview has a consistent and cohesive structure which, left to itself or respectfully assisted from the side, can empower and strengthen local communities. Although recognising the difficulty of achieving this within political and social systems which themselves are dysfunctional or oppressive, he argues that starting with the indigenous culture is a better option than using Western solutions to uniquely local problems. He is particularly condemning of NGOs and other Western agencies which end up perpetuating both the problem and the recipients’ dependency upon the NGO, and applauds local initiatives and agencies which manage to attain self- sufficiency through refusing aid funding. Ultimately, Verhelst considers that culture requires awareness and respect, for it is not just a ‘dimension’ of development but rather the bedrock on which successful development will rest. “It is the idea of culture that gives both meaning and direction to economic activity, political decisions, community life, social conflict, technology, and so on. It is in fact culture that gives development its raison d’etre and its goal” (Verhelst, 1987:159-160).

The distinctive debate in this new awareness of culture appears to be whether, as Verhelst (1987) and Shweder (2000) suggest, the indigenous culture is of inherent value and should serve as a guide to assist in a society’s development, or whether, as Harrison (2000) and his colleagues argue, culture’s importance lies in understanding which aspects of the indigenous culture are obstacles to Western notions of development. Perhaps this culture-centred paradigm, as named by Harrison (2000:296) and theorised by many others, will be next in the line of

development theories. Of course if culture, from whichever side of the argument, is of essential importance to development then it must be critiqued in all its forms. An uncritical romanticising of indigenous culture will be as useless in overcoming unjust systems as an uncritical condemnation of Western culture. Still, the recognition of culture as an essential component of development may lead to practices which effect positive and appropriate change within the local environment for the benefit of the world’s poor.

Globalisation and the discourse of development Other writers cite their discourse within the ongoing contemporary debate regarding the impact of an increasingly globalised economic system, arguing along more political lines. Kim et al (2000) place the blame for the continued suffering of the poor squarely on political decision-making and inequitable distribution. As their colleagues Gershman and Irwin write: concrete effects on the health and well-being of the poor provide decisive criteria by which the value of development efforts must be analyzed and judged. Who will actually benefit from new policies or institutions created at the national or international levels?...To pose questions in this way is to connect development economics and poverty issues explicitly with politics (Gershman and Irwin, 2000:12).

Pogge argues that affluent countries are morally culpable for the continuing pattern of global inequality: Perhaps we had reason to believe our own persistent pronouncements that the new global economic architecture would cease the reproduction of poverty. So perhaps we just made an innocent and blameless mistake. But it is our mistake nonetheless, and we must not allow it to kill yet further tens of millions in the developing world (Pogge, 2001b:15, italics original).

The ‘mistake’ to which Pogge alludes is that of creating and perpetuating a global free-market economic system based on unfettered capitalism with the potential for a corresponding erosion of social responsibility. Pogge’s point regarding moral

obligation is an important one. Verhelst (1987), Dichter (2003), Loy (2003), and others call for Western countries not only to assist the so-called ‘developing’ countries, but to examine their own needs for social development and cultural reassessment. Reassessing the moral priorities of Western countries to include a consideration of the consequences of increasing levels of consumption on the health and well-being of the poor would be costly. Pogge suggests that solving the problem of world hunger could cost in the region of US$230 billion a year for several years (2001a:3). This type of argument, that developed countries can assist developing countries by acknowledging and addressing their own complicity in the problems of world poverty, integrates earlier, more hopeful, theories of development with a realistic assessment of the inter-connectedness of a globalised economy and its corresponding responsibilities.

Globalisation is a contested arena with regard to its influence on international development. Collinson defines globalisation as “a set of processes that are global in scope, that transcend the territorial borders of states and which, as a consequence, profoundly affect the nature and functions of state governance in the world political economy” (quoted in Zwi et al., 2002). Labonte (2003), Woodward et al (2001) and others acknowledge that there are benefits of globalised systems, particularly with regard to the exchange of goods, knowledge and information, and innovations in health care. However, as Labonte (2003) and others point out, these benefits have to be weighed against consequences of rising inequality and unequal distribution of resources. Wade (2004) and Pogge (2001b) both argue that evidence used to defend globalising trends, such as the claim that the proportion of people living in poverty has decreased, can also be misleading, as evidence also demonstrates greater levels of inequality. Millen, Irwin and Kim (2000:6) concur, noting that “while the proportion of people in good health today may be greater than 50 years ago, the absolute number of people suffering from preventable diseases with little or no access to health care has risen dramatically in this same

period.” They call for ‘pragmatic solidarity’ with the poor, in order to counter hegemonic global economic structures which perpetuate the wealth and privilege of some while denying millions of people access to basic necessities. Zwi et al (2002) suggest that globalisation may indirectly engender conflict through the weakening of the state in favour of free-market and structural adjustment policies. In this argument, it is not so much that increased inequality leads to violence as that a state’s incapacity to rise to the demands of a globalised capitalist economy may create the conditions in which intra- or inter-state conflict may erupt.

Wolfensohn and Bourguignon (2004) also stress the importance of governance, arguing that development requires effective states as well as strong markets. They acknowledge the failures of past theories of development, admitting that “global income inequality remains quite high”; the poorest 40% of countries access only 10% of the world’s income, while 20% of the richest countries receive 60% of the world’s income (2004:17). However, the authors argue that globalisation will still be able to benefit the poor, and argue for a ‘global regime’ which will impose governance and policy decisions in order to assist the poor: moving toward a global community requires moving toward true global governance, with world leaders concerned about people everywhere, not just the residents in the wealthiest and most powerful countries. Not doing so is likely to breed insecurity, increasing what the rich, the less rich, and even the poor countries spend each day on defense rather than development and poverty reduction (Wolfensohn and Bourguignon, 2004:31).

Thus, as with culture, there are at least two views as to the effects of globalisation on the world’s poor and the efficacy of development assistance. Globalisation has failed the poor by radically increasing inequality throughout the world, exposing the world’s disadvantaged people to environmental, social, and political factors which they are powerless to overcome and which adversely impact upon their ability to make life-enhancing choices. This view is exemplified by Kim et al (2000), who analyse the impacts of increased inequality on the health of the poor.

An alternative reading is given by Wolfensohn and Bourguignon (2004) and others such as Hughes (2003), defending the opportunities which a globalised world offers. While Wolfensohn and Bourguignon (2004) seek the solution in a globalised system of governance which would ideally seek the good of all people, Hughes and other neoliberal writers (Harrison, 2000, Grondona, 2000) find the solution in the ability of individual countries to compete in the global world and to solve their own problems through internal changes in their society and culture. Edwards (2003) steers a middle ground by arguing that peoples and countries need to be allowed to seek their own solutions, but that global structures which encourage equity and cooperation can create opportunities for this social empowerment. A similar argument in a different guise is put forward by Huntington (1996) who argues that the future will depend upon different civilisations learning to work and live together for the benefit of global harmony and the prevention of world war.

Failures in development assistance While there are clearly differences in perceptions regarding the causes of current inequities, there appears to be agreement that aid has not been as successful as the post-World War II optimism might have suggested. Likewise, although there are different approaches to the reasons for state failures, there has been an emerging consensus that the success of development aid depends on some basic level of secure governance and a stable, if fragile, policy environment (Wolfensohn and Bourguignon, 2004, Robinson and Tarp, 2000, Economist, 2004c). A recent report produced by the Australian Government qualifies this, stating that “it is also increasingly recognised that aid can still be very effective even in very poor policy environments” (Anderson, 2005:5). Anderson goes on to point out that: a final lesson from the literature is the importance of having realistic expectations about how tractable deep seated development pathologies can be to aid interventions. DFID9 and the World Bank

9 The United Kingdom’s Department for International Development.

now refer to ‘good enough’ governance: practices that would not exist in an ideal environment but which deliver minimum protection to human life (Anderson, 2005:7)

However, Hanlon (2004a, 2004c) argues that this acceptance of unacceptable practices in itself prevents the emergence of stable and ethical governance. In an article entitled “Do donors promote corruption?”, Hanlon (2004a) cites the case of Mozambique and evidence which suggests that donors overlook corrupt practices if doing so suits their own purposes, thus undermining the reform process which might provide people with a stable and safe civil environment. He concludes by noting that the pursuit of policies without regard to their consequences only creates an environment in which corruption is tolerated, hindering long-term attempts to create genuine and sustainable development.

Robinson and Tarp (2000) distinguish between failures in aid strategy and in aid delivery, suggesting that successful development is dependent upon strategies appropriate for the context and capacity of the recipient environment. Fowler explains a similar division as micro- and macro-level aid activities (Fowler, 1997). Kim et al (2000) argue for the importance of transparency and appropriateness of evaluative criteria in judging the success of development, whether they are economic development indicators or criteria of health and well-being, while pressing for the inclusion of health as an essential indicator. The authors identify a research gap in the evaluation of the extent of poverty and illness as well as the effectiveness of solutions, due to a lack of credible data. They argue that there is a need for research into the effects of global economic development on the health of the world’s poorest people (Kim et al., 2000).

A number of authors identify the influence of power imbalances on development and distribution, and in particular argue that Western capitalism is an agent for continuing inequality (Petras, 1999, Pogge, 2001a, Fowler, 1997, Kim et al., 2000).

It must be acknowledged that development theories have mirrored political realities (Thorbecke, 2000, Hjertholm and White, 2000, Adelman, 2000), with Cold War alliances providing an important motivation for support for particular countries or regions. Hanlon (2004a) points out that Mozambique was such a state, caught between the two sides of the Cold War, and subject ever since to the requirements of donor governments and multilateral agencies which have only heightened corruption and legitimised a privileged and often criminal elite.

Dichter (2003) examines the motivation for American development assistance following World War II, when the immediate reconstruction of post-war Europe caught the attention of millions in the United States and England. Dichter considers U.S. President Truman’s “Point Four” as the birth of the modern development movement; this was the fourth point of his inaugural speech in 1949, in which Truman called for America to share the benefits of its technical knowledge and expertise to help assist people around the world. The years of the late 1940s had already seen the birth of a number of voluntary organisations, such as the organisation called Cooperative for Assistance and Relief Everywhere (CARE)10, which attempted to address an immediate and pressing post-war need by sharing wealth and material goods with those in need. They were responding to an acute crisis with a short-term response, providing material goods (in the case of CARE), or funding or expertise to re-build Europe after a devastating war. Some of today’s major development organisations, including CARE, the World Bank, Oxfam, and the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Agency (UNRRA) began life in this way (Hjertholm and White, 2000:82). As Europe stabilised, these organisations began to identify similar needs in other parts of the world, and to seek to provide the same type of development assistance to a wider field.

10 Formed in 1945 and originally called the Cooperative for American Remittances to Europe. See http://www.careusa.org/about/history.asp

Although clearly the factors influencing the effectiveness of development assistance are complex, within that complexity there has been a consistent emphasis on material reconstruction. As the outlook turned away from Europe to other parts of the world, this became, certainly by the 1970s, an emphasis on poverty alleviation and improvement of well-being for the world’s poor. Poverty itself is both an absolute measure11, as well as a relative measure which is comparative across a scale of participation within an economic system. Poverty can be seen to be a by-product of systems which allow or encourage inequity between groups or individuals. Those who are poor are often unable to access resources (health, education, employment) which would allow them to actively participate in social decision-making which affects their lives. To that degree, development issues are as much about structural justice as about individual indicators (Kim et al., 2000, Pogge, 2001b). However, the development response to this challenge of poverty alleviation has remained strikingly similar to the material reconstruction model of the 1950s, addressing immediate need through material aid and encouragement of market capitalism as the basis of Western prosperity. Even then, many developed nations’ development assistance contributions have remained well below the level suggested by the UN of 0.7% of GNI of developed countries (ACFID, 2004:11).

This perpetuates one of the major weaknesses of the current global aid system, because aid often seeks to alleviate poverty, rather than to change the systems which create poverty. As Fowler (1997:5) points out, it is essential to address the causes rather than the symptoms of the problem. In the rhetoric of poverty alleviation, much of the effort is addressed to the symptoms of poverty, rather than to the root causes, such as corruption, poor governance, unjust social and political

11 The international poverty line has been defined as “that income or expenditure level below which a minimum, nutritionally adequate diet plus essential non-food requirements are not affordable” United Nations Development Program, quoted in Pogge, T. W. 2001b, 'Priorities of global justice' in Eds, Pogge, T. W., Global justice, Blackwell Publishing, Oxford, pp. 6-23.

structures, and conflict (Hanlon, 2004a, Dichter, 2003, Wolfensohn and Bourguignon, 2004, Pogge, 2001b).

Dichter (2003) provides a challenging explanation for the failure to alleviate poverty. He suggests that the problem is less that the hope and idealism with which most NGOs and multilateral organisations were founded proved to be inadequate to solve the problems of the Third World. The problem is that, in setting themselves up to solve the problems of the poor in undeveloped countries, NGOs (and the major multilateral organisations, such as the World Bank) became organisations invested in maintaining their own existence. As the scope of the challenge of international development became clear, organisations sought to grow to gain the capacity to undertake what they saw to be the solution to underdevelopment. The idealism which served as the impetus for people with a mission to help others, gradually became channelled into goals for the NGOs themselves – to expand, to improve, to move into new countries or tender for more contracts. In order to continue to sustain themselves, NGOs had to continue to find work for themselves to do. In order to prove themselves in a competitive field, standards of effectiveness and accountability were developed, the meeting of which became an endpoint in itself. Rightly, Dichter points out that if the aim of development is to develop – to assist a country to become self-reliant – NGOs should be working themselves out of a job. The need should be less, not greater, than when they started. However, organisations take on a life of their own; poverty becomes, despite the rhetoric, not a problem to be solved, but the reason for the organisation’s existence. Over time, those involved with the industry12 cease to question that their organisation and their expertise are the answers to the problem;

12 It is acknowledged by Dichter, Hanlon and others that the notion of helping other countries to prosper has become a proliferating industry in itself. Hanlon writes: “We have created an industry with tens of thousands of jobs for people in the North…nor is it just in the North. Aid recipient countries have developed an elite which has become well off through the administration of aid.” Hanlon, J. 2004b, 'It is possible to just give money to the poor', Development and Change, vol. 35, no. 2, pp. 375-383.

the question becomes how to ensure that the funding continues so that they can keep their jobs.

Hanlon (2004a) follows similar lines in critiquing the contribution of donor countries to the continuation of poverty and corruption in recipient countries. Analysing the experience of Mozambique, Hanlon argues that in order to preserve their own bureaucratic notions of success in development, multilateral agencies and donor governments are prepared to overlook blatant corruption and increasing inequity within a society.

This question of structural justice is an important one, both in terms of addressing the systemic causes of poverty, and of addressing the perpetuation of the aid industry. It finds parallels in the Biblical calls for justice which underpin the motivation of many faith-based NGOs which undertake development work; the roots of these Western expressions of philanthropy, charity and compassion for the poor are found in the Jewish and Christian scriptures (Kliksberg, 2003). As Huntington (1996) notes, religion is a core component of all civilisations, and in discussing Western notions of development the religious roots of development must also be explored. Faith-based development NGOs are the subject of chapter three.

Australian development aid In 2005-2006, Australia’s official development assistance was set to be A$2.491 billion (AusAID, 2005b). This included humanitarian, emergency and refugee assistance as well as sectoral aid and funds channelled through multilateral agencies and NGOs. Although primarily centred upon the Asia-Pacific region, Australia also provided development assistance to countries in Africa and the Middle East. The five countries receiving the greatest amount of funds were Papua

New Guinea (16%), Indonesia (8%), Solomon Islands (7%), Vietnam (4%), and China (3%) (AusAID, 2005d:3).

As stated by the Minister for Foreign Affairs, the Hon. Alexander Downer MP, “Australia’s aid has a clear, single focus - to advance Australia’s national interest by assisting developing countries to reduce poverty and achieve sustainable development” (Downer, 2002:4). In recent years, this has included an increasingly interventionist stance with Australia’s Pacific Island neighbours, most notably Papua New Guinea and the Solomon Islands (Anderson, 2005). This is in keeping with international trends for more active engagement with fragile states. Dichter (2003) concludes that in the post-September 11th world, development is being seen as the solution to terrorism, and has allowed new ‘markets’ to open up in Afghanistan and other troubled places. He worries that this new impetus for growth will allow the development industry to continue doing exactly what it has been doing for decades, and to ignore the lessons of its own history. Whether or not this bleak assessment is justified, and is applicable to Australia’s own engagement with its neighbours, remains to be seen.

Civil society and development In a climate of increased concern regarding international instability and terrorism, the Australian Government has demonstrated a growing interest in the stability of its neighbours. Its attention to notions of civil society has developed as civil society actors become perceived as potential avenues for strengthening nearby fragile states. The term ‘civil society’ has been used with increasing frequency in recent years as a characteristic of a stable and prosperous nation, contributing to a peaceful and pleasant life. Such titles as that of Ehrenberg’s (1999) book, Civil Society: the critical history of an idea, and the title of the introduction, “What’s the big idea?”, in Michael Edwards’ (2004) book Civil Society set out the general notion that the term ‘civil society’ reflects notions of social organisation, the expression of which evolves through time and history. Civil society has been

defined by Loewenson (2003:4) as “the social arena that exists between the state and citizen, and is not part of the state or the market (for profit sector)”. Continuing, Loewenson notes that it is an autonomous sphere of social interactions in which individuals and groups form many types of voluntary associations and networks to formulate and articulate their interests, negotiate conflict and provide and use services. It is a sphere where people engage in activities with public consequence (Loewenson, 2003:4).

Civil society, therefore, is the space between individuals and the state, the arena in which citizens interact, ideally for the common good. It is the place where citizens gather to meet their own needs, either informally (local neighbourhood associations) or formally (such as religious organisations, sports associations, or clubs). The notion of ‘civil society’ of course, is itself a Western construct (Ehrenberg, 1999), and the organisation of societies which are civil will be defined and determined differently within different cultures. Within this Western definition of civil society, the liberty of the individual to determine his or her associational life independent of the state or the market is a key attribute.

Edwards simply considers civil society to be “all non-commercial organisations, networks and associations between the family and the state” (Edwards, 2002:71). He argues for the increasing recognition of the ‘voice’ of civil society to be heard in the arena of global governance, acknowledging that legitimacy is an essential characteristic for civil society organisations although it is sometimes unclear from where their legitimacy is gained. This begs the question of whether democratically elected governments don’t already represent the voice of civil society, and whether the increasing volume of the ‘voice’ of civil society, through NGOs and activist organisations, erodes even further the legitimate ‘voice’ of the state, a concern expressed by others (Marcussen, 1996, Lewis, 2002). On the other hand, a recent article noted that the ‘civil society’ representatives which the European Commission was consulting were NGOs funded by the Commission itself

(Economist, 2004d). Elsewhere, Edwards (2003) questions whether what is desired is a strong civil society (using the phrase as a noun) or a society which is civil.

A more political reading is given by Linz and Stepan, who define civil society as: that arena of the polity where self-organizing groups, movements, and individuals, relatively autonomous from the state, attempt to articulate values, create associations and solidarities, and advance their interest. Civil society can include manifold social movements (women’s groups, neighbourhood associations, religious groupings, and intellectual organizations) and civic associations from all social strata (such as trade unions, entrepreneurial groups, journalists, or lawyers) (quoted in Choup, 2003:30).

Choup (2003) is using this definition deliberately as she discusses the actions of a highly centralised government within the Dominican Republic and the ways in which individuals negotiate their needs within that system. She ultimately argues that devolving government power has to include simultaneously developing equitable and democratic ways for citizens to participate in a less centralised system. In other words, civil society cannot create and sustain itself without an environment which facilitates independent social interactions and empowered communities.

Religious organisations can be understood as civil society structures (or mediating structures, after Berger and Neuhaus, 1977). Berger and Neuhaus (1977:2) define mediating structures as “those institutions standing between the individual in his private life and the large institutions of public life”. This definition, which has at the ends of its spectrum the individual and the state, differs from that of Edwards (2002:71) cited above, which names as civil society anything outside the family. Berger and Neuhaus consider the family to be a mediating structure (or structure of civil society), something with which not all authors are in agreement (see Edwards 2002 for instance). Berger and Neuhaus clarify their inclusion, however, by

writing: “without falling into the trap of politicizing all of life, our point is that structures such as family, church, and neighborhood are all public institutions in the sense that they must be taken seriously in the ordering of the polity” (Berger and Neuhaus, 1977:27).

Non-government organisations are generally considered to be organisations of civil society. Van der Heijden (1987) points out that although most NGOs are found in developing countries, the most visible and powerful development NGOs are 200 or so transational agencies based in developed countries. There are 111 Australian development agencies which are signatories of the Code of Conduct of the Australian Council for International Development, the aid sector’s peak body, and 86 agencies who are fee-paying members of the organisation (ACFID, 2005). Australian development NGOs managed over A$700 million in international aid and development funds in 2004, including income from government, multi-lateral organisations and the public. Seventy percent of this, some A$487 million, was received from public donations, an increase of 23% from 2003 (ACFID, 2005). The Australian Government has acknowledged this contribution of NGO activity to the international development sector, and the extent of NGO support received from the Australian public; AusAID seeks to work with NGOs where their common interests overlap (AusAID, 1999:5).

There are a number of labels applied to non-governmental organisations, sometimes synonymously, to describe aspects of civil society. Loewenson (2003) uses the term ‘civil society organisation (CSO)’ interchangeably with ‘non- government organisation (NGO)’. Another acronym is GRO (grassroots organisation), used to describe those associations which spring up from within a community and are therefore, at least theoretically, closer and more responsive to the needs and aspirations of that community. Each of these may serve a different function but there is a danger that uncritical analysis will not distinguish the values

of, and the differences between, the various types of organisations. A CSO, for instance, could be anything which is not the state, including a transnational NGO such as Oxfam and a GRO such as a local women’s club, as well as political organisations such as trade unions and health food cooperatives, each of which could have substantial interaction with both the state and the market. To use CSO interchangeably with NGO as Loewenson does is problematic as not all CSOs will function as NGOs, particularly in the international development sector where ‘NGO’ carries a particular connotation with relation to an organisation’s delivery of development aid on behalf of a government or multi-lateral organisation.

Kamat (2003) uses the acronym CBO for ‘community-based organisation’, a synonym for GRO. There is little to distinguish the two or to argue for the use of one over the other. Choup (2003) uses GRO to describe community-based civil society organisations, validating their voice to the people by nature of their rootedness in the community, and distinguishing them from NGOs, which in her usage implies aid providers and development agencies. The key attribute of grassroots organisations is their origin in the local community, as their name implies. Other authors also distinguish NGOs from associations created by the local communities (ie Clammer 2003). Padron (1987) perhaps gives the most convincing distinctions between the various groups, distinguishing between non- governmental development organisations (NGDOs) as local (Third World) NGOs working in development, GROs as the grassroots community groups served by NGDOs, and international development cooperation institutions (IDCIs) as the NGO bodies based in donor countries and operating transnationally. On the other hand, Fowler (1997) uses NGDO without reference to the origin of the agency. Non-governmental organisations can arise from anywhere and therefore their allegiance can be to a range of priorities and values, some competing with the recipient community. Given this complexity, within this thesis, the acronym NGO will be used to refer to national and transnational development agencies. The

organisation which is the subject of this thesis, the Anglican Board of Mission, functions in reality as one of Padron’s (1987) IDCIs, but the term current in the Australian aid sector refers to all of these types of agencies simply as development NGOs, so this thesis will continue with that usage.

Label/Acronym Definition Reference Non-governmental “a voluntary, not-for-profit (AusAID, 2005e) organisation/NGO community organisation, which undertakes international development cooperation and/or development education”. Non-governmental indigenous NGOs (Padron, 1987) development organisation/NGDO Northern or Southern NGOs (Fowler, 1997) working in development Civil society interchangeble with NGO (Loewenson, organisation/CSO 2003) Grassroots “locally-based membership (Choup, 2003) organisation/GRO organizations” which form to find ways of meeting local needs, ie for services or for advocacy

“beneficiaries or target groups” (Padron, 1987) Community-based synonym for GRO, implies (Kamat, 2003) organisation/CBO legitimacy through relationship with community International “international NGOs, solidarity or (Padron, 1987) development funding agencies” cooperation institution/IDCI Table 1:Definitions of civil society organisations

As noted above, a number of authors indicate, either implicitly or through an explicit analysis, that current trends in the globalisation of markets and the ascendancy of a neo-liberal political hegemony in the West have had a significant impact on the development and maintenance of civil society. In general, those authors writing about Africa have noted the potentially damaging influence of outside NGOs and donor countries who attempt to create civil society within

fragmented and unstable countries. There are several reasons for this view but the primary one is that it undermines local culture and erodes indigenous power for self-determination, including the determination of political and market systems within the recipient country (Hanlon, 2004b, Hanlon, 2004a, Hanlon, 2004c)13. Huntington’s (1996) model of civilisations would suggest attributing the failure of notions of Western civil society in Africa to the difficulty of imposing one civilisation upon another.

In his analysis of South-east Asian cities, Clammer (2003) argues that globalisation, and particularly the emphasis on consumerism and consumption, influences the development and nature of local civil society, while decreasing the affiliation of the middle classes to local neighbourhoods in favour of a perceived global community. In an interesting analysis of consumerism and its effect on urban Asian societies, Clammer suggests that identification with a global culture, through the purchase of fashions, uptake of leisure pursuits, or popularisation of media and cultural idioms, has the effect of decreasing an individual’s identification with their own local neighbourhood community and culture. That is, if one becomes a citizen of the world one is less likely to feel it necessary to participate as a citizen of the neighbourhood. This has implications for the vibrancy of local communities, including safety and security on the streets, maintenance of social institutions, and vitality of regional or national culture.

Thus, it seems from the literature that there are two ways in which the term civil society is used. One is localised, and expresses concern for the health and well- being of the community, the preservation of autonomy outside of the state or the

13 Other arguments tend to focus on economic indicators. A more general argument is that already discussed, that free trade will strengthen aid effectiveness (Economist 2004a, 'An addictive lullaby', The Economist, 17th January, p. 12.). See also the argument of Hughes regarding aid in the Pacific and, specifically, Papua New Guinea; she argues that aid has failed the Pacific states because it has relieved them of the need to find their own solutions to their problems. (Hughes, H. 2003, 'Aid has failed the Pacific', Issue Analysis, vol. no. 33, pp. 31, Hughes, H. 2004, 'Can Papua New Guinea come back from the brink?' Issue Analysis, vol. no. 49, pp. 12.)

market, the affirmation of self-determination by the community, and the ability to influence and interact with the state to improve life and conditions. This is the level at which donor governments and NGOs are attempting to assist developing countries to create or enhance civil society.

The other sense in which the term ‘civil society’ is used is at the international level. People involved at this level are making use of the trends of globalisation (such as the advantages of media, internet communication, markets and movement of goods, etc.) to develop a notion of global civil society and to argue for the creation of global civil and governance mechanisms (Wolfensohn and Bourguignon, 2004, Edwards, 1998, Edwards, 2002, Edwards et al., 1999) . At this level people are concerned for transcending local or national boundaries to create an equitable and just world. It is at this level, as well, that writers such as Edwards (2002) are arguing that the voice of civil society must be heard. Determining just whose voice that is, and what the voice is saying, is a more difficult question, and not the subject of this thesis.

Civil society, in either its local or transnational guise, has become a normative theoretical construct for the analysis and evolution of international development policy. This has included, in recent decades, an exponential growth in the number of NGOs working in international development, and an increasing reliance on the delivery of essential services by NGOs (Marcussen, 1996). The extent to which globalised networks of citizens are influencing politics across national borders has several implications. Marcussen (1996) sums up two hypotheses regarding civil society: that strengthening civil society will strengthen or enhance the state, or that the provision of essential services by GROs, CBOs, CSOs, and the like will erode the state, and concludes that the latter seems to be borne out by research. Like Dichter (2003), Marcussen sees danger in the growing importance of NGOs in the delivery of essential services, warning of a risk that:

with increasing professionalism, the introduction of project supervision and management tools (for example, Logical Framework Analysis), greater accountability to donors with regard to reporting and monitoring, the introduction of administrative procedures for ‘economics of scale’, NGOs might move further and further away from their original comparative advantage, the grassroots and their direct involvement with the target beneficiary groups (Marcussen, 1996:412).

He argues that the state and civil society need each other and that one cannot be strengthened at the expense of the other. This argument, however, has not stemmed the flow of resources from donor governments and transnational NGOs towards the establishment or strengthening of civil society in recipient countries, often bypassing the recipient government in the process. The extent to which this activity is sustainable in the long term and the evidence that its outcomes are beneficent have not yet been established, but the literature suggests caution in this regard.

An example of this is child sponsorship, a popular means for encouraging individual donor support to NGOs through the ‘adoption’ of a needy child in a developing country14. Dichter (2003) and Bornstein (2001a) each analyse the process of commodification of children, as the demand of donors for a ‘relationship’ creates an entire project in itself of searching for suitable children, writing letters on their behalf, and taking pictures to send to donors. The notion that a particular donor’s money is going to a particular child in need is a powerful and emotive suggestion, although in reality the money might be better spent on addressing the larger structural challenges which face an entire village or community. Thus, the need to gain donor support comes to override the best interests of the children who are supposedly benefiting from the program in the first place:

14 The most well-known of these organisations are World Vision, the Christian Children’s Fund, and Save the Children.

...custom-tailored projects that take much longer to develop are not really an affordable option, and thus a cookie-cutter approach becomes inevitable, despite the NGO’s knowledge that development should not be like that...Just at the time when thinking beyond ‘Band-Aid solutions’ is widely accepted, the tricky bind the NGO gets into when it appeals to the public on the basis of love, guilt, and ego gratification and when it promises accountability, results in having recourse largely to Band-Aid solutions (Dichter, 2003:264- 265).

Ultimately, Dichter’s (2003) answer to the obvious failure of development to achieve its goals is a radical dismantling of the industry. He suggests that the industry itself has become so entrenched that it would be very hard to stop the mechanism which moves billions of dollars in a never-ending factory line of short- term projects which are never able to address the root causes of poverty. The solution is for the development industry to get out of the way so that development itself can take place, by the people, for themselves. People who are poor, according to Dichter, want material well-being, and opportunities to create it; they want education, and they need stable, trustworthy governance and institutions to allow them to acquire skills and use them. As Hanlon (2004b) noted, poor people do know what to do with money when the opportunity is provided for them to use it. Dichter points out that those activities which have genuinely contributed to positive change have been ‘indirect and subtle’. He suggests that the bureaucracies which contribute to sustaining poverty be dismantled and the expatriates sent home. For the ultimate hubris is to try to engineer change from outside a dynamic living system composed of different interests, passions, and affinities, all bubbling up out of a soup containing an intricate social and political structure that itself sits on top of years of history, not to mention a particular geography, climate, and set of natural endowments (Dichter, 2003:294).

Interestingly, his conclusion is very similar to that of Loy (2003), writing from a Buddhist perspective. Loy concludes that modern notions of development will

always fail because they put economic and material gain ahead of the creation of a harmonious and communal well-being. Development based on material benefits, according to Loy, is doomed to fail. His solution is to stop trying to fix things for other people, after ensuring that immediate humanitarian and relief needs are met, and to support people to find their own solutions. It is hard to say what that would look like in practice. There is a recurring theme among some authors, Dichter and Loy among them, but also including conservative economists such as Hughes (2003) and pluralistic anthropologists such as Shweder (2000), who call for Westerners to stop intervening and allow people to find their own solutions. These types of arguments, while persuasive at one level, do not address how the interdependent globalised economic system which has been created will allow such societies the space in which to find their own solutions and at the same time to compete in a globalised marketplace. It also does not adequately propose how to address any causes of poverty and injustice found within non-Western systems themselves. What all of these arguments inevitably will mean is that the solution will look different in different places, and on occasion may not look like what theorists in the West consider development at all. It will require a resolution on the part of developed and developing countries to seek to discover whether and how their own actions contribute to the continuation of global poverty.

Civil society is an attribute of human groups. It existed before Enlightenment philosophers theorised about it, and will remain long after policy trends have moved on to seek another solution to the world’s problems. Understanding the fragile nature of civic structures, their dependence upon a just government, and their importance in creating social environments is important in order to direct resources towards improving people’s lives in the most concrete and sustainable ways. However, civil society stands or falls by the commitment of individuals within that society to contribute to the communal good. Recent calls for a global civil society (Edwards, 2002, Edwards et al., 1999) raise questions about the ability

of humans to relate to large-scale conceptions of community. The role of international development agencies, including faith-based NGOs, ideally is to assist local communities to strengthen and maintain their own societies and to work together to ensure justice, equity and a truly civil society. While Edwards (2004) points out that as a theory the notion of civil society seems to be on the wane, the understanding of associational life, and the power dynamics inherent within the public sphere, will continue to inform local and global politics for some time to come.

Religious groups, within their own communities and as NGOs working within the international development sector, both contribute to the current development system and at times try, as Loy (2003) suggests, to subvert it. The moral imperatives stemming from notions of structural justice impinge upon the work of many NGOs, and not just those which are faith-based; the same challenges and dilemmas face all NGOs, faith-based or not. However, within the NGO sector there are a significant number of faith-based NGOs, and their participation in international development and their position within their communities raise unique challenges. The next chapter will look specifically at the participation of faith- based NGOs within the international development sector.

Development NGOs as representatives of civil society Hilhorst, in her in-depth analysis of the discourses within NGOs in the Philippines, argues that “the assumption of accountability seems to be the pillar on which the entire edifice of development by NGOs has been built” (Hilhorst, 2003:144). The author analyses the discourses of two grassroots NGOs and the authority by which they appear to operate, noting that it is not only the NGOs themselves which appropriate the meaning of their own activities. Local villagers and recipients of development assistance also reinterpret the place of NGOs and development activity in terms which reshape the locus of power and meaning towards themselves. It is not only NGOs who create meaningful representations of their

activities; local participants or recipients also create meaning, but in their own terms.

Hilhorst discusses two types of accountability, which she terms ‘moral’ and ‘rational’ (Hilhorst, 2003:126-131). Moral accountability is based on responsibilities within relationships: the ways in which individuals negotiate their autonomy or obligations to a group or clan is an example of this. The standards approved by the group and the relation of the individual to that group will create a type of monitoring system which guides behaviour. Rational accountability, on the other hand, refers to the type of accountability which is more familiar, and favoured, within the business and government sectors, and is that which is based on external evaluation against agreed standards. It is accountability, as Hilhorst says, which is designed so that not the procedures but the results are made visible. While moral accountability involves the social structures and relations in people’s lives, rational accountability is based on rational criteria rather than a moral ethic and is dependent upon the unseen deliberations of reviewers, such as auditors.

At its foundation, accountability is the means by which organisations claim legitimacy (Slim, 2002). Edwards and Hulme (1996:8) define accountability as “the means by which individuals and organizations report to a recognized authority (or authorities) and are held responsible for their actions”. Accountability is thus a matter of relationship, ascribed meaning, and responsibility (Hilhorst, 2003). Atack (1999) points out that increased accountability ‘upward’ to funders may diminish an NGOs’ accountability ‘downward’ to their supporters, constituents and beneficiaries. In this way, accountability and legitimacy are closely linked. An NGO gains legitimacy from its membership or support base (Atack, 1999, Hilhorst, 2003, Hanlon, 2004a, Slim, 2002), those who provide the NGO with the means and the mandate to undertake the work which they do.

Legitimacy in this context can be defined as “moral justifications for political and social action” (Atack, 1999:855). Atack (1999) identifies four criteria of NGO legitimacy: representativeness, distinctiveness, effectiveness, and empowerment. Slim (2002:7) points out that legitimacy is both ‘derived’ and ‘generated’. Hilhorst (2003) follows this further as she deconstructs the discourse of grassroots NGOs in the Philippines and argues for a process of ‘legitimation’ by which NGOs are both accorded and claim, through negotiation and moral accountability, authority from their own communities.

Slim (2002) argues that accountability is not a new issue but that it has become increasingly important for humanitarian NGOs, particularly those which are engaged in calling other bodies (governments, corporations, etc.) to account for their human rights records. This would be true as well for faith-based (and other) NGOs who operate on the basis of a particular moral stance and who call others to account on moral or religious principles. Slim identifies two aspects of accountability by which organisations seek to establish their legitimacy: that of voice, and of effectiveness. The credibility of the voice of NGOs (whose voice is it?), and the effectiveness of what they actually accomplish (do they make the difference they claim to effect?) together demonstrate the integrity of organisations (Slim, 2002).

Accountability thus forms an increasingly important part of the discourse of legitimacy for development, and for NGOs. In the wake of increasing criticism, in light of the obvious failure of development efforts to improve the lives of millions, NGOs and multilateral organisations need to demonstrate that they are not acting on their own behalf but are grounded in a relational legitimacy within both the donor community and within the recipient society. The notion of accountability is one which will be evident through the following chapters, and will be discussed in detail in chapter eight.

Summary Contemporary notions of development arose in the post-World War II environment of a devastated Europe, and have evolved through subsequent decades in response to the needs of developing countries, to the politics of the Cold War and post-Cold War periods, and to the self-perpetuation of the international development sector itself. It is generally recognised that aid in the past 50 years has not addressed the significant problems of inequality which the world experiences, although this fact has not stopped the proliferation of agencies and mechanisms seeking to address poverty alleviation. In particular, the growth of NGOs has led to an increase in civil society actors intervening in both global development debates and in the maintenance or support of weakened states. Included in this group are faith-based NGOs, who by their value system and relation with their communities of adherents constitute a unique grouping within the development sector.

At the start of the 21st century, two new paradigms for speaking of development work, and particularly NGOs, have emerged. The first is the theory that culture is a key determinant in development. As discussed, there are at least two ways in which indigenous culture is viewed: either as an obstacle to Western notions of development, or as a potential source of solutions, and it remains to be seen whether one or the other of these views will become dominant in the next few years.

The second new paradigm is that of civil society, with a growing appreciation of the power of society outside of the structures of either the state or the market. This paradigm includes the work of NGOs, who form an increasingly powerful component of both development discourse and of international political critique. This notion of civil society as an actor within global development raises questions of the accountability and legitimacy of the NGO voice, as civil associations

become more prominent in critiquing both elected governments and the appointed global representatives of, for instance, the United Nations. Undoubtedly, however, the ‘power of the people’ as evidenced through NGO actors will continue to be a considerable force within the development industry for some time to come.

The next chapter combines both of these paradigms – that of culture, and that of civil society – in an in-depth look at one group of civil society actors. Faith-based international development agencies are both value-based organisations and NGOs representing a particular component of civil society. Their contribution to international development is discussed in chapter three.

Key points:

• The aid sector has grown into a multi-billion dollar industry since its inception, although significant levels of world poverty and underdevelopment remain. • Christian Protestant values have contributed to the evolution of today’s liberal democratic Western society, and have had a significant philosophical impact upon notions of development. • Culture is emerging as a crucial factor in understanding the ways in which societies develop, and new theories are evolving as to how best to address this. • A current discourse on NGOs and civil society as solutions to international development problems raises questions of legitimacy and accountability for development NGOs.

Chapter Three: Faith-based NGOs

Introduction15 Within the development sector, a significant number of NGOs are faith-based. As stated in the first chapter, an NGO which is faith-based is one which declares an allegiance to a particular religious tradition. There are thousands of agencies working from the Jewish, Buddhist, Muslim and other religious traditions, although faith-based NGOs in the West tend to be Christian in orientation. While the number of faith-based NGOs has not been quantified (Green et al., 2002), it can be estimated to be a sizable percentage of the development NGO sector as a whole. Half of the NGOs accredited by AusAID are faith-based (AusAID, 2005c), and all of these are Christian. Of the 86 members of ACFID in 2004/2005, 36 (42%) are faith-based, including one Muslim organisation (ACFID, 2005).

Religious organisations, including faith-based NGOs, have been documented as making a substantial contribution to the health and well-being of communities (ABS, 2002, Culliford, 2002, Francis and Kaldor, 2002, Krause et al., 2001, Lawson and Young, 2002, Levin, 1994, Matthews et al., 1998, Kurti et al., 2004), strengthening the foundations of civil society (Putnam, 1993, Raphael et al., 2001, Smith, 2003, Wuthnow, 2002), and assisting the Australian Government in achieving its goals of peace and stability within the Asia Pacific region (ACFOA, 2003, AusAID, 2000, Stein-Holmes, 2003). While in the latter part of the 20th century there were signs of decline in the importance of religion to daily life in developed countries, world events since 11th September, 2001 have ensured that the place of religion within societies across the world faces renewed scrutiny and interest (Jelen and Wilcox, 2002b). Religion is a foundational value in all

15 Some of the ideas contained in this chapter were also explored in a paper written by me and endorsed by my supervisors: Kurti, L. G., Whelan, A. and Zwi, A. 2004, 'Faith in international development: evaluating the effectiveness of faith-based NGOs', Development Bulletin, vol. 65,, no. 72-75. See Appendix One.

civilizations (Huntington, 1996) and cultures (Grondona, 2000). The work of faith- based NGOs, however, is under-researched and there is a relatively small literature exploring either the extent of faith-based participation in international development, or its impact and effectiveness (Green et al., 2002, Kurti et al., 2004).

Faith-based organisations have been involved in providing essential services for people in need for centuries. From the first century AD, Christian communities have been concerned with caring for the sick, and for the provision of hospitals and places of refuge (Davey, 1985). While the contemporary role of faith-based organisations in development and the provision of health services is not quantified, (Green et al., 2002, Stein-Holmes, 2003), governments are demonstrating an increasing awareness of the extent of the contribution of faith-based organisations to the delivery of health and other essential services (Hauck et al., 2005, Green et al., 2002, Black et al., 2004). Within the Australian development sector, the most tangible demonstration of this is the development of the Church Partnership Program (CPP).

This chapter provides an outline of the history and characteristics of faith-based international development NGOs, focusing specifically on Christianity and the evolution of Christian NGOs. Of necessity, this outline is brief and, in the light of the complexity of its subject, limited to the historical and philosophical progression of what are now known as Christian NGOs out of earlier missionary efforts. The theological and philosophical underpinnings of Christianity and Western culture are too vast to do justice to them in the space allotted here, nor is it possible to provide a comprehensive analysis of the interaction of faith-based organisations within civil society, essential as this is as a construct within the current discourse of global civil society and the place of religion, development, and NGOs. However, within those constraints, this chapter seeks to identify key concepts which are of importance as a foundation for the research presented in this thesis, and to provide

a framework for understanding the Anglican Board of Mission and its discourses of development and Christian mission.

From missionary organisation to development agency Christian mission activity, in the contemporary terms of ongoing mobilisation of resources for extended religious witness in another place, is a relatively modern phenomenon, arising out of changes in religious life in 18th century Europe (Van Rooden, 1996). Mission activity, beginning first in England in the 1790s and a short time later in the United States and the Netherlands, was a consequence of the decline of Christianity as a state religion and the rise of the private sphere of society, in which religion became increasingly a free choice of the individual (Van Rooden, 1996, Thomas, 2001). Religious sending societies (those which formed to send missionaries overseas) had emerged earlier in England (Yates, 1988), but these were primarily for the purpose of sustaining the structures of the church itself, by re-creating the Anglican Church in colonial outposts. A distinctive change occurred towards the end of the 18th century in the rise of voluntary sending agencies which intended to spread the faith but did not necessarily seek to work through the authority structures of the church. These voluntary societies formed a meeting place of individual Christians who were passionate about spreading their faith to those who had not yet heard it, and provided avenues for doing so with or without the sanction of the established Church. The development of these societies allowed participants to articulate their understanding of religious faith as it pertained to their own social or political viewpoints, and led to the evolution of a multiplicity of Christian religious expressions. This formation of civil (as opposed to ecclesiastical) religious organisations contributed to a transformation of society within Europe as much as in the colonies, as van Rooden writes with regard to the Netherlands: The late-eighteenth century concept of a hierarchized social order of various religious groups had been changed into the conception of a homogeneous nation of moral citizens, in which the task of

churches was to further the moral education of individual citizens. In organizing for missions and representing the spread of Christianity as a moral transformation of societies, the Dutch missionary society imagined the new place of religion in the Netherlands themselves (1996:83).

Van Rooden thus argues that missionary activity, as seen in analysis of Christian expansion throughout the areas of European colonisation, is directly a result of political and social changes within the nature of European society. The rise of Christian missions should be seen, then, within the context of an increasingly private sphere within European public life. The movement of Christianity from a force changing the public sphere to an indirect force shaping the private sphere of individuals within civil society both mirrors and influences the evolution of civil society and its relation with the state.

What is mission? The word mission derives from the Latin mittere, meaning ‘to send’. A missionary, therefore, is one who is sent, in this case for the purpose of witnessing to the Christian faith. Christianity is ‘intrinsically missionary’ (Bosch, 1991:8), but shares this characteristic with other religions, and indeed other ideologies. Islam and Marxism are two examples of other religious or ideological missionary belief systems. In his classic text, Transforming Mission, David Bosch (1991:1) notes that the contemporary use of the term ‘mission’ is fairly recent; previous to the 16th century the word had a more complex theological connotation relating to the Christian doctrine of the Trinity. In its contemporary usage, the word presupposes that there is a sender, someone with the authority to send someone on a mission. Throughout the colonial period, this sender was presumed to be the Church, sending out faithful men and women for the purposes of spreading the faith and building the Church. In the latter part of the 20th century, missiologists and other scholars have been redefining the term in light of the post- colonial world order, and particularly the increased understanding of a religiously pluralistic world. The word, and the concept, are contested, as theologians,

missiologists, and lay Christians seek to understand their place in the post- Christendom world of the 21st century.

Bosch (1991:8-9) argues that “Christian mission gives expression to the dynamic relationship between God and the world, particularly as this was portrayed, first, in the story of the covenant people of Israel and then, supremely, in the birth, life, death, resurrection, and exaltation of Jesus of Nazareth” (Bosch, 1991:9). Christian mission is both evangelical and political in its nature (Bosch, 1991, Cobb, 1982, Defensor Santiago, 2001), responding to the love of God and the corresponding obligation to respond lovingly to God’s world, by addressing structural and personal injustice, violence, and oppression which harm God’s people. While in previous centuries the church of Western Europe has been closely associated with the imperial expansion which has itself brought with it injustice, violence and oppression to those whom it subjugated (Ela, in Thomas, 2003:318- 319), in the contemporary era Christians living in a pluralistic world have had to redefine mission in light of the passing of a hegemonic European Christendom (Brueggemann, 2001). A recent gathering of theologians defined mission in terms of hope, writing: The hope that the divine Spirit breathes into our often skeptical and reluctant spirits translates itself ever anew into ethically concrete behavior whose object is to implement God’s love for the world and all its creatures. Christians do not expect to perfect the world, but they do expect and hope to change it. Our mission as Christ’s disciple community, wherever we are located, is nothing more or less than to participate actively in this divine labor of faithful love (Brueggemann, 2001:17).

This articulation of mission, written by a small group of theologians from five continents, is based on an evolution of missiological thinking which took place over the course of the 20th century, influenced by the political and social upheavals of those decades and the re-interpretation of Christian mission in a post-colonial age.

Christian mission, then, is about relationship: a relationship with God which transforms hearts and minds towards an ethic of justice grounded in a law of love. Mission is, in Bosch’s words, bigger than the colonial missionary enterprise, with all its tragic mistakes and legacies of oppression. It is the missio Dei, the mission of God, in which the Church participates, however fallibly; the church’s activities are only one visible part of the mystery of God’s larger purpose. Mission is motivated by the experience of this transformative relationship with God, leading to a voluntary acceptance of the calling to share God’s love with others. “Mission is, quite simply, the participation of Christians in the liberating mission of Jesus...wagering on a future that verifiable experience seems to belie. It is the good news of God’s love, incarnated in the witness of a community, for the sake of the world” (Bosch, 1991:519).

As the post-colonial period began, the independence of former colonial societies led not only to the growth of indigenous churches (Green et al., 2002), but to the articulation of new and non-European expressions of theology and mission. The most well-known of these is probably liberation theology, as proposed by Gustavo Gutierrez (1988), in which the Christian life is theorised as a mission of liberating humanity from oppression created by structural and political injustice. Other contemporary approaches to theology include feminist theology, black theology, and political theology. These are all contemporary interpretations of the biblical theme of justice, calling society to account for the injustices evident in the world today, whether from the oppression of the poor, of women, or of people of colour. What is new about liberation theology is not its political discourse but its reflections about God, proceeding from the world of the poor. There lie the roots – and this theology is dangerous not because it talks of liberation but because it talks about God and in doing so proceeds from the unsettling presence of God in the struggles, sufferings, and hopes of the poor (Soelle, 1993:68).

This strand of theology is based upon an understanding of Jesus of Nazareth as an itinerant preacher who challenged both the religious and secular authorities for their distortions of power and authority, taught an ethic of service to God in response to God’s love and forgiveness, and who was executed for leading people to live lives of justice and mercy. Jesus called them together and said, ‘You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:42-45).16

The understanding of the message of Christianity as liberating through the transformational potential of God’s love for all is one which calls Christians, and Christian NGOs, to advocate for the poor and to seek justice and peace. It is a very political theology17 and, developing as it did contemporaneously with the rise of the international aid sector, has influenced many Christians’ understanding of a theology of development.

In the post-World War II period, when the hope of a world transformed by technology and free of war loomed large, many new groups formed, Christian and otherwise, to seek to meet the needs of war-ravaged Europe, and other parts of the world. Some were mission agencies who increasingly saw practical ways of addressing injustice through material development. Some were indigenous church organisations with links to a European church who had been running schools or health services in colonial countries and who, at the time of a country’s

16 Bible quotations are taken from the New International Version, Zondervan Publishing, 1998. 17 Yoder points out that to the early hearers of the biblical narrative, the Jewish people under the occupation of the Romans, the verses (Luke 1:51-53) in which Jesus’ birth is foretold would have had revolutionary overtones: “he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts, he has put down the mighty from their thrones...he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.” Yoder, J. 1972, The politics of Jesus, William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, Grand Rapids.

independence, organised themselves into a non-profit entity. Some of these various groups became faith-based NGOs.

Faith-based NGOs in a culture-centred paradigm of development A legacy of the colonial period of missionary activity is the presence of churches and church-run health and education services in many former colonial countries. Saovana-Spriggs (2000), Green et al. (2002), Stein-Holmes (2003), and Hauck et al. (2005) argue that churches in Africa and Papua New Guinea make a significant contribution to a country’s social, cultural and political life through the delivery of health and education services. In Papua New Guinea, the churches provide almost half of the country’s health services and half of the country’s schools (Hauck et al., 2005, Stein-Holmes, 2003). In Africa, independence and the indigenisation of the local churches meant a decrease in the number of missionary-administered hospitals; however, church-run health services still comprise a considerable proportion of health services across the continent.

The question of income received from transnational Christian organisations is problematic, with some suggesting that this disempowers local communities. Bornstein (2001b) argues that Christian NGOs demonstrate neoliberal economic and political stances which conflict with indigenous culture and which lead to a transnational cultural dominance within the country. Christian NGOs, with their reliance on Western Protestant concepts of individuality, freedom, self-reliance, and a personal relationship with God, encourage individual responsibility over traditional communitarian values, a stance which is aligned with neoliberal economic aims such as private enterprise, competition and deregulation (Bornstein, 2001b:3). Historically, this notion of what is proper economic, commercial and community behaviour has links to colonial discourses of civilisation (Bornstein, 2001b:5). Bornstein points out that these are Western notions imposed upon rural, indigenous cultures with strong communitarian and kinship values. However, it is

interesting to note that the uncritical tying of Christian expansion to the colonial aim may in itself be a post-modern interpretation of history. Hilliard (1978) argues that one of the remarkable aspects of the Anglican mission to Melanesia was its foundational principle of equality and the priority of establishing an indigenous church which would be self-determining, a point also made more generally about Anglican mission endeavours by Yates (1988). This argument has its basis in the writings of the 19th century head of the Church Missionary Society, Henry Venn, who advocated for the “euthanasia of the mission” and identified the “three self” principle of mission: that once a church was established in a new place, the indigenous church should become self-supporting, self-governing, and self- extending (Yates, 1988:434, Thomas, 2003:207).

The Christian churches undoubtedly played a significant role in the colonialisation of non-European countries. ABM’s own Australasian Missionary News observed with pride in 1901 that: One reason why British rule has spread so rapidly in Africa is because England alone among the nations carried to Africa the principle of religious liberty, conjoined with missionary enterprise. British Africa is the product of three forces – British conquest, British trade, and last, but not least, British missions. British missionaries have been everywhere the pioneers of empire. The British frontier has advanced on the stepping stones of missionary graves (Anglican Board of Mission, 1901:14).

At the same time, in many instances the values which the Church promulgated also led them to challenge colonial authorities and traders for some of the excesses of exploitation which occurred, and to call them to account on the grounds of justice, compassion and fairness for native peoples (Wetherall, 1977, Whiteman, 1983). While often not recognising the faults of their own culture in the whole colonial enterprise, the Church at the same time often acted to mitigate the worst aspects of European culture and, by attempting to embed themselves in the indigenous society and to learn to understand their culture, often ended up mediating between the two.

It is for this reason that Sir Hubert Murray, Lieutenant Governor of British New Guinea in 1912, could state that: unless the missionary is there to help him, the native is left like a ship without a rudder, and will run a great risk of being wrecked in a sea of an alien civilisation. This is one reason why I think that missionaries are necessary. Another is that Christianity is an integral part of our civilisation, and when we are imposing that civilisation upon a people who would perhaps much sooner be without it, we should at least impose it in its entirety, and not leave out what many persons would consider the best part (quoted in Kettle, 1979:viii).

The place of religious agencies is thus intrinsically tied to the culture in which that religious faith is expressed, either through colonial imposition or through the indigenisation of religious tradition within local culture. Religious understanding is socially negotiated with the prevailing norms of a community and, as such, is fluid and changing in its presentation (Keane, 1996).

The social negotiation of values in contemporary development activities is also both culturally bounded and fluid. An example of the complexity of the interplay between religion and development is provided by Verhelst (1987), in which the author interviews a number of people in India from a variety of perspectives, from spiritual leaders to grassroots activists. The fundamental questions which grounded the interviews were the link between development and Hinduism, and the contribution which Hinduism makes to Indian development. The results were enlightening if only to describe the difficulty in ascribing a singular perspective to Hindu culture. From the guru who considered practical social development to be of no importance because individual enlightenment was the only goal, to the Marxist trade unionist who prayed daily and believed spirituality and revolution are compatible, to the several Gandhians who struggled to reconcile competing strands of ‘resistance’ and ‘assistance’ non-violence, there was a recognition that religion was inseparable from the struggle for well-being. However, Hinduism contained

some of the problems which India faced as well as some of the answers. The religion, like the society, was seen as flexible, dynamic, changing and growing, and the internal and external struggles of human actors were both important.

Most of the interviewees agreed that the only lasting solutions would be uniquely Indian responses to the current challenges which the country faces. This discussion highlighted the need for people to be aware of and work within their own cultural and spiritual environments; indeed, several interviewees suggested that the West could best help India by solving some of its own problems at home rather than trying to solve those of India’s. The West was regarded as impoverished emotionally, culturally and spiritually, while being over-sated materially. Verhelst broadly agrees with those sentiments. He ponders the impoverishment of Western culture and urges the return to native folk and social customs and values in response to a rampant materialism and deadening capitalism; at the same time, he suggests that the cultural dialogue between North and South continue so that each can learn from the other. However this dialogue must really take place on a partnership of equal footing; the West must renounce all attitudes of superiority and acknowledge its own need for development.

An alternative perspective is argued by Billington Harper (1995), who writes that indigenous societies are quite capable of taking what is useful to them from Western culture, and adapting aspects of religion, politics and culture for their own purposes. Writing of the adoption of Christianity by certain castes within India as a political rejection of the oppressive Hindu caste system, she argues: attitudes of dependence typical of colonial situations, combined with domineering missionary paternalism, have been identified as the chief culprits in this process of denying ethnic self- determination and self-realisation...those who credit Western missionaries with this kind of power and influence are unrealistic, not only about the capabilities of Westerners but also about the malleability of Indian Christians. Instead, many Indian converts wanted to adopt foreign symbols for their faith and ironically chose

Western cultural expressions for indigenous reasons (Billington- Harper, 1995:15).

Both Bornstein (2001b) and Dichter (2003) note that the dominance of ideals of community development – not what the community wants, but what it is supposed to want - is part of a more worrying effect of NGOs in terms of encouraging people to dream and desire a level of material well-being which may not be realistic and which may have an unexpected cost to the community. Having introduced Western values and expectations with regard to community development, there is a risk of producing a vacuum between the loss of traditional culture and the superficial acquisition of Western culture. There is a danger of NGOs raising expectations and creating inequalities, eventually pulling out of the region to leave the community to be self-sufficient, having eroded the foundation of social cohesion amongst the people. This can particularly be true of religious NGOs, through whom paradigms of development become intertwined with the religious beliefs of the community: “Christian development offered a space for success. Development was entwined with Christianity, and Christianity provided an arena for ethical issues – such as jealousy and inequity - to be discussed and socially negotiated.” (Bornstein, 2001b:239).

It is clear that developed countries can learn much from the wisdom, values and cultures of indigenous societies in developing countries. This includes faith-based NGOs which are bringing their own cultural paradigms into their activities. However, calls for reciprocity through partnership are mediated through relationships which themselves are based on an imbalance of power, evidenced by the financial and other resources flowing from developed countries to those in need. Loy (2003) argues from a Buddhist perspective that religion’s greatest contribution to development is the teaching of values and principles of ‘right living’. These, if acted upon, can assist people in the developed world to understand their connection to those who are suffering in the developing world as a

result of over-consumption and material accumulation. In this way, development will occur because people in the developed countries will recognise the need to stop perpetuating a cycle of wealth accumulation which creates poverty and oppression. Loy (2003) agrees with Dichter (2003), Verhelst (1987) and others who consider that development has not been effective because the current model of development aid is itself the problem, creating structures which perpetuate the very inequities it is designed to alleviate: …development projects that seek to end poverty by ‘developing’ a society into an economy focused on consumption are grasping the snake by the wrong end. From a Buddhist point of view we should not be surprised that such efforts in social engineering end up creating more problems than they solve (Loy 2003:9).

From this perspective, it is indeed culture which is at the heart of development, although not in the way which Harrison (2000) and others have argued (see chapter two). From the perspective of Loy (2003), development will succeed to the extent that religious NGOs are able to share the values of humanity which the world’s religions espouse and to encourage significant changes to life-practices in the over- developed as well as the under-developed world.

Bornstein (2001b:267) notes that “Christian development carried within it both a liberatory potential and the tragic irony that change could bring its own disappointments…Christian development was successful in making the realms of jealousy, or morality, of religion, explicit. It faced and named ‘evils’: poverty, inequality, and human suffering. Yet, the contradictions embodied in practices of Christian development overpowered its transformative effects.” She concludes by noting the importance of the values which form the foundation of Christian NGOs and also the necessity for awareness of their impact on culture: The discourse that fuels much of global humanitarian aid is neither neutral nor secular; it is often Christian, and the proselytising agenda of Christianity – whether implicit or explicit, about converting souls or creating entrepreneurs – is part of faith-based

assistance. Faith-based development, unlike ‘secular development’ provides a space in which to negotiate and contest realms not evident in strictly economic discourse, such as good, evil, morality, and witchcraft (Bornstein, 2001b:268).

Affirming that these values within the development industry are a reality which needs to be understood rather than judged (and these Western values permeate secular NGOs just as completely as religious NGOs), Bornstein poses two questions: “how does development make things workable or not, good or not? how does development create moral categories that link those who help the needy to those who are in need?” (Bornstein, 2001b:270) These questions are worthy of note as the role of faith-based NGOs and their relationships of accountability are considered, although they cannot be answered in the context of this thesis.

As Bornstein argues, faith-based NGOs provide a space in which moral frameworks can be negotiated and progressed. This is because faith-based NGOs, while working within a global structure which is based on economic theory, operate fundamentally on a basis of moral and religious values, which thus judge the world according to different criteria. Loy writes in this regard: The solution to poverty is not primarily economic, because the cause is not primarily economic. Some ‘poverty’, especially in rural areas, is not poverty at all, at least not by traditional standards. Often poverty is not solved but created by economic globalization, which dislocates people or divests them of their own resources. And I have suggested that genuine destitution is more a matter of our collective intentions and therefore our values. This brings us back to religion, and the need for religious institutions that understand that market emphasis on acquisition and consumption undermines their most important teaching. The corrosive influence of economic globalization and its development institutions on other human values needs to be challenged (Loy, 2003:13).

Western faith-based NGOs operate within a liminal space, and thus with a certain tension; they are working within a structure which at the same time they are bound by their values to question. They are historically bound up with the development

of Western European liberal democracy and the dominant economic and social global structures, while at the same time having a faith-based mandate to challenge structural injustice and to advocate for the disadvantaged whenever systems exist which are oppressive. Straddling these two worlds – one of external power structures, the other of values – requires a constant reassessment of intention. As Kilby (2002:35) writes: “Voluntary agencies face the challenge of maintaining their values while at the same time being more accountable to the people they work with, and enabling those people to find a voice in a globalized world.”

It is Judeo-Christian values of compassion and charity which have historically influenced Western society and the establishment of Western faith-based NGOs. From the founding of World Vision in the 1940s as an American Christian evangelical response to perceived needs overseas (World Vision today is the largest NGO in the world)18, to the ancient Jewish injunction to forgive debt every 50 years which underpinned the recent international Jubilee movement for debt forgiveness19, Judeo-Christian religious values have permeated Western development efforts, and continue to do so today. As we have seen, however, Christian Protestant values of hard work and enterprise are so embedded in northern European and North American cultures that is hard to separate them from the norms of Western civil society.

18 see www.worldvision.org 19 In the Book of Leviticus the Lord says to Moses, “Consecrate the fiftieth year and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you; each one of you is to return to his family property and each to his own clan...” (Lev.25:10) The Jubilee 2000 movement was a coalition which formed to proclaim the year 2000 as a Jubilee year and petitioned Western governments to forgive the debt of low-income countries. Many groups which participated in this campaign continue to operate after 2000 to advocate for debt relief (see http://www.jubileedebtcampaign.org.uk/).

Faith-based NGOs as a component of civil society The modern conception of civil society has evolved from centuries of European philosophy and is heavily indebted to Christian notions of society, the state, and the individual (Ehrenberg, 1999). As Banner notes, It was in the Calvinist congregations of New England that there developed a practice of association, cooperation, and self- government that was determined to protect the social space thus revealed, occupied, and mapped out against encroachment by the state. This space is, of course, the space of civil society as it is classically conceived, and its imagining has roots, as we shall have cause to note again, in Reformation thought and perhaps even further back in the Christian tradition (Banner, 2002:119).

Banner traces the roots of the notion of civil society back to the work of Augustine and demonstrates how both Protestant and Catholic understandings of social interaction have contributed to the more secular notion of civil society today. While in contemporary terms civil society applies to that social space between the state and the family (or individual, depending upon the interpretation), in Christian terms the concept finds its highest form in the association of individuals into a society united by their common heritage as children of God. Within Catholic thought, the basis for this sociality is the natural order of things – that human social interaction is inherently valuable because it is a good created by God for humanity to enjoy, and in that enjoyment draw closer to the harmonious union which God intends. For Protestants, the value of human sociability lies in its mirroring of the love which all humans will enjoy in union with God: “This human sociability and solidarity [is] a likeness of, and a preparation for, the sociability and solidarity of the life of God, into which humans are called” (Banner, 2002:122).

In either strand of Christian philosophy, and the many various interpretations within each strand, the basis for civil society and for the community of the Church is the foundational value of associational life as a fellowship under God. It is this aspect of civil society which sets apart Christian understandings of associational

life from, say, liberal and socialist understandings of society. Banner (2002:121) notes that Catholic writing has critiqued both liberalism and socialism in this regard, finding in liberalism a portrayal of individuals as competitive in opposition to a common good, and socialism in highlighting conflicts based upon class difference while disregarding the unity of human need. For Christians, transformation occurs not in the external ordering of society, but in the internal ordering of hearts in a fellowship of love, which thus binds people to create and enjoy a harmony of social interaction.

Missionary organisations then, in their colonial manifestation, while conditioned by their culture and admittedly in service to an imperial enterprise, still carried within them a different notion of civil society and associational life, one based on the fellowship of people in a shared life under God. This ideal was, of course, not always realised in practice. However, to the extent that these missionaries and organisations were able to live out the principle of equality of worth under God, they stood in opposition to colonial social structures, practicing mutual fellowship and interaction with subjected peoples and critiquing government for unfair or unjust practices. In Papua New Guinea, for instance, missionaries were often regarded with suspicion by the colonial administration and traders, for their sympathy and advocacy for indigenous peoples (Hilliard, 1978, Wetherall, 1977, Whiteman, 1983). This in itself, created a tension. Viswanathan (1996) notes that changing conceptions of authority in 18th and 19th century England increasingly placed ecclesiastical authority into the realm of private life, leaving the state to govern a social realm and to create a ‘politics of identity’ based upon criteria for ‘Englishness’ rather than an understanding of associational life. “A centralized administrative machinery is set in place whose legislative capacity displaces the authority of religious bodies in determining the criteria for membership in the community” (Viswanathan, 1996:91). The missionary enterprise carried within it its own inherent tension of attempting to gather people on the basis of a shared

religious (and cultural) worldview while the state was attempting to build associational identity on the basis of allegiance to a political authority. Colonial identity, while dependent in some ways upon the position of the Church in the dominant culture, at the same time undermined the centrality of religion to culture (either European or indigenous) by separating out religion from the dominant associational identity of being British (Thomas, 2001).

The view that missionary organisations, or their successors in faith-based NGOs, have contributed to the strengthening of civil society is disputed (Economist, 2004b, Manji and O'Coill, 2002, Bornstein, 2001b, Comaroff and Comaroff, 2000). While some authors see in religious traditions the roots of what is now known as development (Kumar, 2003, Tyndale, 2003, Thomas, 2003, Goody, 2003), others perceive the close ties of Christianity to colonialism and the loss of indigenous culture (Bornstein, 2001b, Comaroff and Comaroff, 2000). Both perspectives have elements of truth about them.

Bornstein’s (2001b) doctoral research examined the relation of development and NGOs to civil society. Conceiving development as the actions of civil society allows transnational NGOs to overcome state inadequacies by attempting to influence a community directly, culturally as well as materially, and in the case of Christian NGOs spiritually as well. According to Bornstein, transnational programs such as those advocated by the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund often weaken the state by entailing international obligations which override the meeting of local needs. As NGOs step in to meet the needs of local communities which fragile governments in developing countries cannot address, such as basic provision of health services, education, and sanitation, they further highlight the inadequacies of the state, particularly to international donor countries and multilaterals. NGOs respond to the priorities of donors as to what to fund, so that often trends continue, with or without evaluation as to the effectiveness or

impact on the local people. An NGO employee quoted by Bornstein reflected that: “sometimes as a development organisation we don’t want to take the risk of really empowering people to the point that they really own the projects. [If we do that] we will be working ourselves out of a job” (Bornstein, 2001b:201).

As discussed in chapter two, a distinction is usually made between ‘Northern’ or transnational faith-based NGOs and locally-based NGOs. The first usually have their headquarters in donor countries and tend to work within a developing country to implement a specific aid program, often bringing with them a massive self- supporting infrastructure, while locally-based NGOs function more as a GRO in being locally responsive and highly connected to the community (Padron, 1987, Marcussen, 1996). However, even this is a not a clear-cut distinction; several Australian faith-based NGOs have their headquarters in Australia but work within a denominational church with historic roots in the recipient communities20. However, it appears to be the case that the transnational identity of a NGO creates a different locus of decision-making power, which sometimes competes with local context and indigenous values (Bornstein, 2001a).

The evolution from a conglomeration of disparate aid agencies to a professionalised international development industry gives rise to a number of questions regarding the intention of aid delivery. NGOs who become ensconced, by accident or design, in perpetuating need in order to ensure their own survival, or who become silenced by financial dependency from addressing the root causes of injustice or inequality, may find themselves part of the system which they originally tried to overcome. Most, if not all, civil society organisations enter into their work for reasons of charity, desire for change, and/or commitment to solidarity with the world’s poor and needy. Christian faith-based organisations are

20 Examples include the international development networks of the Catholic Church (of which Caritas Australia is part), the Seventh-Day Adventists (through the world-wide Adventist Development Relief Agency), or the Lutheran Church (through the Lutheran World Service).

especially committed to contextualising the witness to their faith (Bevans, 2003). They may interpret their activities as an outward expression of a value system which in turn influences the ways in which faith-based NGOs respond to and work within recipient communities. The role of transnational NGOs in changing conceptions of social allegiance from tribe to church, or from state to transnational faith community, is one which could usefully be studied for its implications on the social fabric. The role of faith-based NGOs in relation to government, like the NGOs’ missionary forebears, bears consideration for the same reasons.

Faith-based NGOs and their relation to government In recent years a number of Western governments, including Australia, have sought to work more closely with faith-based organisations to meet a range of social needs, both domestically and through international aid programs (Black et al., 2004, House of Representatives, 2005). There is a danger, however, that in working with government NGOs can be ‘caught in the middle’, as Kilby (2002) titled his article on the subject. He writes that “it is because voluntary agencies represent values rather than a specific constituency – a constituency that votes in Australian elections – that governments have trouble working out how they should respond to them” (Kilby, 2002:33). NGOs need to be careful to remain value- centred while working with a government which may be addressing other objectives. Faith-based organisations draw together individuals who may have differing political allegiances while sharing a common religious faith. Faith-based NGOs, in articulating a worldview or advocating for a particular action, are expressing a values-based understanding which transcends political parties. Where politics and religious views find themselves in alignment, it can be easy to equate the two where in reality their common agreement may be a momentary overlapping of two paradigms.

The perceived alignment of religious NGOs with governments, either donor or recipient, is contested. Manji and O’Coill (2002) deliver a blistering argument regarding the collusion of faith-based NGOs in supporting the colonial structures of Africa. The authors charge that missionary organisations simply re-invented themselves following independence in order to continue their work, often continuing the power differentials so manifest during the imperial expansion of Europe into Africa. Likewise, those ‘war charities’ which found themselves without work to do once Europe had stabilised following World War II saw Africa as an uncharted opportunity to continue to do good works by keeping the poor in need. While not providing alternatives to the continuing dependence of ineffectual governments on the provision of services by NGOs, Manji and O’Coill (2002) do argue that faith-based NGOs which continue to operate in the developing world must recognise that to do so with credibility they must take a political stance against the systems which continue to ensure their survival. Development is not apolitical.

In another sphere, that of domestic welfare, Gregg (2000) also cautions against an uncritical involvement of churches as welfare providers on behalf of government. Writing about the role of churches as welfare providers in Australia, he argues that the cost to the church may be too high, in terms of growing dependency on government funding, loss of autonomy through government regulation, and loss of an independent voice due to a contractual relationship with government. Gregg sees the independence of churches as critical for maintaining both their doctrinal integrity and their solidarity with the most needy in the community. Gregg draws heavily on an earlier article by Loconte (1997) which described the ‘seven deadly sins of government funding’ and argued that government funding of charitable activities, far from strengthening religious organisations, actually undermines their integrity and ability to fulfil their aims.

A similar argument is put forward by a consultation report undertaken in 1996 on the work of Christian relief and development agencies. The authors suggest that with the increasing interest in religious development agencies, governments may have a tendency to see all religions, and religious agencies, as alike, arguing that: government aid, in a desire to be tolerant and even-handed, often requires participation of those of all religions together. The world trend, therefore, is toward pluralism. Any spirituality is acceptable from whatever religion. The world sees nothing special about Christianity...since the world does not accept exclusivity, we will be encouraged to downplay our faith or else be excluded from funding or involvement in various projects (Consultation report, 1999:395- 396).

While this concern regarding a pluralistic society is not shared by all agencies, the point that all religions are seen as the same may mean that those attributes which make religious agencies effective in their sphere (whether Muslim, Buddhist, Jewish or Christian) may be diminished by external criteria which ignore the cultural or moral dimensions in favour of administrative competence. On the other hand, Thomas (2001) suggests that a growing global civil society will open internal avenues for discourse within religious traditions (particularly evangelistic ones such as Protestant Christianity and Islam) in which norms of individual versus collective decision-making will be negotiated and challenged.

The consultation report cited above identified three biblical approaches to development activities, from the Old Testament scriptures: the wisdom tradition, which attempts to manage the future with knowledge and insight; the prophetic tradition, which seeks to call the faithful to build a godly future; and the apocalyptic, which waits ‘prayerfully’ for the future as intended by God (Consultation report, 1999:393). Similar categories are identified by Jelen and Wilcox (2002b:7) who, building on previous work by Leege (1993), suggest a distinction between ‘priestly’ religious groups, and ‘prophetic’ religious groups, the former being more aligned with and potentially supportive of the notion of state

power, the latter being more likely to stand in opposition to political authority. Using these categories, in a state where a religious tradition is dominant (such as Islam in Iran or Catholicism in Ireland) religious groups will tend to be the focus of state legitimacy or national identity (or both). Even in countries where a religion is not established, the dominance of one religious group may allow it to serve in a ‘priestly’ way, providing the spiritual leadership of society in ways which reinforce the political ethos of the country. Jelen and Wilcox point out two consequences of this tendency. Firstly, “a commitment to a shared set of religious symbols or doctrines may be an extremely valuable political resource in times of political upheaval”; secondly and alternatively, “religious identity is often a more potent source of change than of stability” (Jelen and Wilcox, 2002b:8-9).

By contrast, a ‘prophetic’ role tends to see the religious group in opposition to the state, acting as a voice of critique and reminding society and political actors of a fundamental call to morality and religious values. In these instances, religious organisations retain an element of autonomy which allows them to question political action and to call political leaders to account on behalf of the people. Jelen and Wilcox (2002b:9) write: “The apparent simplicity of the biblical admonition to ‘render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s, and to God that which is God’s’ may not take into account the fact that jurisdiction over some matters (such as education, marriage, and charity) is often contested between the two realms”. This is a useful distinction to keep in mind as the relationship of faith-based development agencies and government is explored. However, these categories are not monolithic. Witness, for example, the role of the Catholic Church in opposition to the communist regime in Poland, and its diminishing position following the establishment of a democratic government; or the opposition of Islamic leaders in Iran to the reign of the Shah and their support for the revolution advocated by Khomeini. It is possible for religious structures to function in a ‘priestly’ way in one era and a ‘prophetic’ role in another (Jelen and Wilcox,

2002b). Of course, even in these instances where political positions were taken by religious authorities, there were always individuals within the structures who dissented from these positions.

In similar ways, while faith-based NGOs may work closely with government agencies, the mandate of faith-based agencies will be based upon their religious motivation and affiliation, such that these organisations find themselves functioning within two parallel, sometimes conflicting, paradigms. One is the government and industry-led world of international development with its measurable standards, criteria, and accepted processes; the other is the community- led world of the church, mosque or synagogue, with its less tangible, values-based approach based on perceived fundamental truths (Kurti et al., 2004). Operating within and across these two paradigms will influence the ways in which faith-based NGOs conceptualise and articulate their identity and their achievements. Maintaining an organisation’s integrity to its notions of transformation and development may become a challenge in such a situation. The ‘priestly’ or ‘prophetic’ roles are applied by Jelen and Wilcox (Jelen and Wilcox, 2002b) to the religious authority in relation to the state. They will be considered later for their relevance to faith-based NGOs working in collaboration with, or critiquing the policies of, donor governments.

A particular area in which this tension is relevant is that of advocacy. Maddison et al. (2004) identify a number of instances in Australia in which government funding has been withdrawn from non-government agencies which challenge government decision making, particularly those advocating for youth, women, and the disadvantaged. Some religious NGOs may appropriate a freedom to advocate, out of the solidity of the ecclesiastical structures behind them (the Australian government is unlikely to abolish the Catholic Church for instance), while for others there may be an inhibition to

advocate because of the lack of consensus within their own communities. Likewise, there is an integrity to be maintained between working and living with and among the poor, and also working closely enough with government to allow a critical voice to be heard. Slim (2002:6) argues that the legitimacy of humanitarian NGOs is dependent upon the authenticity of their voice: “do NGOs speak as the poor, with the poor, for the poor or about the poor?”. NGOs who claim a voice on behalf of the poor must use caution to ensure that their voice is an authentic voice, and be aware of whether they are speaking of the disadvantaged from a distance (speaking about), speaking with consent and in the context of relationships of trust (speaking with), or speaking from a claim of advocacy for the voiceless (speaking for) (Slim, 2002:6). Legitimacy can be grounded in many ways; Slim (2002) identifies both ‘derived’ and ‘generated’ forms of legitimacy, the former being legitimacy from legal and moral principles, the latter being the NGOs’ support base, actions, and relationships. The question of legitimacy as it applies to faith-based NGOs will be considered in later chapters.

Summary Faith-based organisations have been involved with international development since the earliest efforts of the mid-20th century. Growing out of the post-World War II optimism of the 1950s, Western Christian organisations sought opportunities to help those who were (in their understanding) disadvantaged. Along with Western governmental efforts to develop the rest of the world, faith-based NGOs sought to share their understanding of progress and development, motivated by religious notions of transformative justice. Inevitably, for both Western governments and Christian NGOs, these efforts have been heavily based upon Western culture and values, including those northern European/North American Protestant notions of liberal democracy and civil society. Christian organisations, both as mission agencies and as development agencies, have been key participants in this

endeavour. As such, the critiques of the development sector, discussed in chapter two, apply as much to Christian NGOs as to secular NGOs. Christian efforts at mission and development are grounded in a Western understanding of culture and civilisation which has made their efforts alternately oppressive and liberating. Any attempt to understand contemporary involvement of Christian NGOs in international development must include an awareness of the best and worst of the historic engagement of the Church with indigenous communities and cultures.

Within the Australian development sector today, church-based NGOs have growing opportunities to work collaboratively with government in international development activities. These collaborations provide an arena where the aims of church agencies and the aims of government policy overlap, even though the underlying motivations for these aims may diverge. The extent to which church- or faith-based agencies can collaborate with government will continue to be negotiated but, to be authentic, must include a deepening understanding of the ways in which the culture and values of both paradigms are articulated and maintained. The remainder of this thesis reports this understanding as it is evolving within one agency, the Anglican Board of Mission.

Key points:

• Faith-based NGOs bring to the development sector their own ‘culture- centred paradigm’ based on their faith tradition and philosophical understanding of society. • The history of development, and the colonial period preceding it, are both intertwined with the history of Christian mission and the expansion of the Church. The colonial endeavour and Christian mission activities were sometimes in opposition, and sometimes supportive of one another. • Faith-based agencies can provide a moral space in which ethical stances can be debated and negotiated. • The notion of civil society also has its foundation in Christian philosophy, and a Christian interpretation of civil society leads to a different understanding of transformation than that expressed by the secular state. • Faith-based NGOs, in working closely with government, need to balance their allegiance to their religious mandate with their engagement in government policies and procedures.

Chapter Four: Cooperative inquiry as a methodological approach to organisational learning

Introduction The methodological approach to this research is qualitative. A critical analysis of the workings of an organisation or group requires sensitivity to those dimensions of interaction which cannot be quantified: communication, interaction, ideas, and values. This is particularly so of organisational research (Bradbury and Lichtenstein, 2000). As Harré has noted with regard to the study of behaviours, “Mendel’s monks could classify and count peas, but more than sharp eyes and a couple of baskets are needed to discern genes” (Harre, 1981:6). Organisational research requires sensitivity not only to what can be seen and classified, but those aspects of human life and interaction which are felt, sensed, and experienced. The research conducted within the Anglican Board of Mission was an exploration of organisational relationships and their influence. The influence of the relationship with government and the international development sector was a primary focus, but other relationships also affected the work of the organisation: those of donors, volunteers, staff and Board members, and partner churches overseas. A group- based inquiry method, which incorporated the researcher as co-subject and the subjects as co-researchers, was chosen in recognition of my pre-existing relationship in the organisation and my desire to work collaboratively with people I considered to be friends as well as colleagues. A recognition of the researcher’s position with regard to the phenomenon being explored is integral to relational forms of research (Bradbury and Lichtenstein, 2000, Heron, 1996, Heron and Reason, 1997, Reason, 1998, Reason, 1993). The primary reason for adopting a cooperative inquiry approach to the research was my involvement with the organisation as a volunteer. Because of both my own ideological stance and my pre-existing relationships with the staff of ABM, sharing power and decision-

making with others seemed appropriate in the context in which I was entering a shared space, which they inhabited as staff and I visited as a volunteer.

This chapter will discuss the participatory paradigm underlying the inquiry method, and the cooperative inquiry method itself. The methodological foundation of the inquiry is based primarily on the work of John Heron (1981b, 1981a, 1996) and Peter Reason (1988b, 1993, 1998, 1981), who together and individually have been instrumental in the development of the theory and practice of collaborative forms of participatory research. Their work grew out of the particular climate of the 1960s and 1970s when the emphasis on personal experience and empowerment led to a number of experiential processes being developed in the humanities and psychology (Reason, 1988c, Heron, 1996). The questioning of authority and the promotion of an individual’s own instinctive knowledge led directly to what Heron (1996:9) has referred to as the ‘democratization’ of research, the inclusion of those being studied as decision-makers in the research process itself.

Participatory research, which includes action research, participatory action research, and participatory-observation research as well as a range of other participatory methods, is a recent addition to the recognised theoretical paradigms of qualitative research (Lincoln and Guba, 2000). As Kemmis and McTaggart (2000) point out, action research and participatory research are two defined research strategies, which overlap but are not identical. Action research is oriented towards problem solving and intervention strategies; it is not structured for the development of theory (Heron, 1996:7). Participatory research may focus on change or problem solving but may be more exploratory or reflective in nature. Action research may take place within a number of paradigms and is not inimical to either positivism or post-positivism (Kemmis and McTaggart, 2000); issues of power and relationship may arise but the method itself does not require a political stance of participation. Participatory research is fundamentally grounded in the

notion of co-created knowledge and by definition in the sharing of power through group participation (Heron and Reason, 1997).

In their chapter in the 1994 edition of the Handbook of Qualitative Research, Lincoln and Guba (1994) defined four ‘alternative inquiry paradigms’: positivism, postpositivism, critical theory, and constructivism. By the time of the 2000 edition of the Handbook of Qualitative Research, Lincoln and Guba (2000) had updated their theoretical constructs of research and included a fifth paradigm of participatory research, based on Heron and Reason’s (1997) article entitled “A Participatory Research Paradigm”, the article itself being a response to the original 1994 chapter. Lincoln and Guba’s (1994) chapter argued that there were three foundational aspects of any research paradigm, referring to its ontological, epistemological, and methodological stance. Heron and Reason argued that the axiological stance was also a critical (‘foundational’) grounding for each paradigm. Although Lincoln and Guba (2000) ultimately define the participatory paradigm as “post-postpositive, postmodern, and criticalist in orientation” (2000:167), the authors acknowledge that it contains enough significant differences in theoretical stance to warrant conceptualising the paradigm with its own coherent epistemology. Heron and Reason’s (1997) presentation of the participatory paradigm argues that it is post-constructivist, accepting the constructivist argument that social reality is constructed through our interaction with the world but positing an underlying ontological reality. It is post-modern in recognising that truth is not immutable, but draws back from the ‘nihilistic scepticism’ of post-modernism, which asserts that there is no truth but only perspective (Heron and Reason, 1997:1). It is also post-positivist in arguing for the subjective nature of reality and for the rejection of the objective stance of the traditional research approach. Fundamentally, the participatory paradigm is an approach to research which honours the lived experience of the participants and which theorises the creation of knowledge in ways which are creative, flexible, and inclusive. Reducing the power

differential between the traditional researcher-subject relationship through joint participation in the creation of new ideas and experiences is understood to be both a political and a social stance, one which enhances the human capacity to learn and grow through shared understanding.

Foundations of the participatory paradigm This chapter will discuss the participatory paradigm in detail, focusing on the four foundational aspects as identified by Heron and Reason (1997) and Lincoln and Guba (2000). The following discussion is organised under these dimensions of ontology, epistemology, methodology and axiology, and provides the philosophical argument for the decision to use a cooperative inquiry approach in the research undertaken within ABM.

Ontology Ontology is the philosophical study of first principles, the “nature and essence of things” (Macdonald, 1978:921). The ontological basis for the participatory paradigm, and the cooperative inquiry method which I and my colleagues have used, is what Heron (1996) calls the ‘subjective-objective reality’, that is, the recognition of the pre-existing cosmos in which we live (objective reality), and the acknowledgement of the co-creation of truth by humans living within the cosmos (subjective reality). This perspective accepts the realist structure of a world which exists outside of our own perception, independent of one’s existence or even awareness. However, it also accepts the argument of constructivism that knowledge is socially constructed and is the way by which we both understand and influence the world around us. There is therefore a two-tiered ontological understanding: a ‘given cosmos’ (Heron 1996:10) and the socially constructed ground of our daily lives, both of which form the basis for the ways in which humans make sense of the world. In part, the participatory paradigm is a return to a pre-positivist, pre-Cartesian worldview, before the Enlightenment philosophers

separated the observer from the observed and thus allowed for the development of empirical science (Barber, 1966, Bradbury and Lichtenstein, 2000).

This ontological stance is congruent with the Christian perspective as understood by the staff and volunteers of the Anglican Board of Mission. Although the nature of God is itself contested21, Christian philosophy accepts the view that the universe has been created in some manner by God and exists independently of humanity’s cognition, so the notion of an objective universe is not disputed. As well, it is generally agreed that humans have agency or ‘free will’ (to use a term common in Christian discourse) by which individuals subjectively experience and interact with the world around them. This ontological stance is therefore one which is at ease with the worldview of the research participants and the environment in which the research took place.

Working within an organisation which is identifiably Christian, this research doesn’t seek to challenge the ontological stance of the organisation itself. The verity of Christian teaching is not the subject of the thesis, and therefore the researcher accepts as foundational that the organisation in which the research took place holds a Christian belief in the nature of reality created by God as conceived in Judeo-Christian thought, one which is consistent, if not entirely synonymous, with the ontological stance offered within the participatory paradigm. It is important that the research paradigm is congruent with the worldview of the organisation and people involved in the research, in order to understand the lived reality of those who act within and impact upon organisational life (Bradbury and Lichtenstein, 2000). Although it is possible to critique an ideological stance from another paradigm, it is essential to begin with a paradigm within which the

21 In the 20th century alone several strands of Christian thought are evident, from the neo-orthodoxy of Karl Barth with a conception of God as purely transcendant (see for instance Barth, K. 2001 (1949), Dogmatics in outline, SCM Press, London.) to the liberal feminist theological arguments in which God is immanent and intimately concerned with human life and experience (see for instance Ruether, R. R. 1992, Gaia & God, Harper Collins, San Francisco.)

ontological view of the organisation is coherent. As Bradbury and Lichtenstein (2000) point out, a relational orientation to research is alert to the relations between members of the group, and between the group and others. In an ideologically- driven organisation such as a faith-based NGO, comprehension of the ideological foundation of the organisation will be necessary to analyse the relations between key players within the research. In the case of the Anglican Board of Mission, where the activities and the discourses arise out of the organisation’s Christian foundation, accepting their ontological view from the beginning allows the research to focus on the group’s own interpretation, or ‘co-construction’ (to use Heron’s term), of their reality. The ontological paradigm determines the focus of the research. For instance, a Marxist or a constructivist paradigm might discount the ontological Christian worldview as socially constructed, and the seat of structural oppression within society. While there might be evidence to support these views, they would be only part of the picture because they would focus entirely on the external structures of the Christian church and would deny the spiritual reality which Christians experience as transcendent; such an analysis would therefore be inadequate for understanding the motivation behind behaviour and the values underlying decision-making within a faith-based organisation. Likewise, a positivist paradigm might deny the impact of the faith claims on the participants within the organisation as being empirically invalid, and thus be unable to adequately account for the actions of the participants which are grounded in their own belief system. A participatory paradigm is able to critique power structures and deconstruct social patterns, while acknowledging a reality which includes both the material and the spiritual.

While Heron (2001a) and Reason (1993, 1998, 2000) have both written on spiritual aspects of participatory research, this is evident more in later writings than in the early conceptions of participatory processes, and an acknowledgement of spiritual or religious views is not essential to the paradigm. However, a number of authors,

including Heron (1996, 2001b, 2001a), Reason (1993, 1998), and even Lincoln and Guba (2000) have noted the emergence of spirituality into both the theory and practice of qualitative methods generally. Reason argues forcefully that an acknowledgement of the spiritual nature not only of participants, but of the environment in and with which humans engage, is important; to do otherwise is to deny the full range of human capacity including the transcendent experiences of beauty, awe and wonder (Reason, 2000). The participatory paradigm is in itself a post-positivist conceptualising of a world which is unified in all of its multiple dimensions – the material and environmental as well as the human social, cultural, and spiritual (Reason, 1998). Its philosophical acceptance, and even welcoming, of the spiritual nature and experience of participants within the language and culture of inquiry, makes it an approach well suited to the study of a faith-based organisation.

Epistemology Epistemology is the “theory of knowledge” (Macdonald, 1978:440), or the study of how knowledge is acquired and understood. While accepting a ‘given cosmos’ (Heron 1996) the participatory paradigm argues that reality is ‘subjective- objective’ (Lincoln and Guba, 2000, Heron, 1996), that is, that knowledge is co- created through the interaction of human beings with each other and with the world around them. “[Reality] is subjective because it is only known through the form the mind gives it; and it is objective because the mind interpenetrates the given cosmos which it shapes” (Heron 1996:11).

The epistemology of the participatory paradigm is presented most clearly by Heron and Reason in their various writings (see for instance Heron, 1981b, Heron, 1981a, Heron, 1996, Heron and Reason, 1997, Reason, 1998, but also Bradbury and Lichtenstein, 2000, and Kakabadse and Kakabadse, 2002). Kakabadse and Kakabadse (2002) trace the roots of action based inquiry from ancient Greek philosophers, through three strands of thought – research, learning and reflection-

in-learning – to what the authors call ‘collaborative inquiry’. The collaborative action inquiry described by the authors is somewhat similar to the concept of cooperative inquiry, although ultimately seems closer to action research in its top- down initiation and its focus on change. What is of interest here, however, is the suggestion that the participatory paradigm is a descendent of the philosophical strands of action learning, action research, and critical theory (Kakabadse and Kakabadse, 2002:338). Reason and Bradbury (2001) point out that this philosophical geneology leaves out the many other contributions of thought and experience, including indigenous ways of learning, and assert that “action research has been equally promiscuous in its sources of theoretical inspiration”.

In his book, Cooperative Inquiry (Heron 1996:52-57), Heron provides the most complete explanation of the epistemological framework of the cooperative inquiry approach. He identifies four ‘modes of knowing’, by which humans interact with, and transform, their world. These modes of knowing are mirrored by four levels of belief by which humans abstract meaning from the world: Propositional belief – a belief statement or a theory about the nature of things; Presentational belief – the way in which belief is articulated, or activities which present a particular belief (this might be music or dance or art as well as the written word); Practical belief – that which is understood or believed on the basis of practical action, a set of skills which lead to the acquisition of knowledge and understanding; and Experiential belief – a whole-person sensory or intuitive knowledge.

These four kinds of belief, brought into conscious awareness and explored through learning and inquiry processes, can lead to new forms of knowledge. In earlier statements of the inquiry method, Heron argued for three forms of knowledge –

propositional, practical and experiential - and their importance in the co-creation of understanding (Heron, 1981b, Heron, 1981a). Presentational knowledge was added later (Heron, 1996, Heron and Reason, 1997) as the external articulation of the other three, in essence valorising the creation of knowledge as a form of knowledge itself (that is, the process of knowledge acquisition made explicit). Of the four – propositional, presentational, practical, and experiential - Heron lauds practical knowledge as the most important and the ultimate goal of any inquiry (Heron, 1996:104). Practical knowledge is whole-person understanding translated into action or interaction. Experiential knowledge emerges from the transformative process of inquiry, by which the researcher him/herself is changed through the experience of the learning journey. Propositional knowledge and presentational knowledge are usually the starting points of an inquiry cycle (exploring a theory or belief which is articulated). However, the articulation of knowledge and theory is considered by Heron to be secondary to the lived experience of the research. The locus of primary outcomes in participatory research lies within the researchers themselves, through the skills and understanding which are gained by the researchers through the research process.

Heron writes that: the inquiry domain is not an objective world independent of, and the same for, all observers for all time. It is a subjective-objective reality, a world as experienced and interacted with. It is a world in which there is a distinction but no separation between personal being and presented being, the imaginer and the imagined, the conceiver and the conceived, the doer and the done within. In each of these modes and in all of them together, reality is mind-moulded and perspectival. It always bears the great signature of the given. It is always inseparable from how each individual in the group and how the intersubjective culture of the group choose to be, image, conceive and act within it (Heron 1996:105).

While at first this might seem to contradict the realist perspective regarding social structures, each individual and the culture of the group itself are in fact influenced

by the larger social structures within which they operate, while creating through the research process the opportunity to influence the structures themselves. Therefore, within ABM, the intersubjective culture of the group is influenced by the organisation’s position as an agency of the Anglican Church of Australia, by that church’s history, by each person’s interaction with and within that organisational culture and by each individual’s background and perspective. Each co-researcher shapes and is shaped by their participation in the cooperative learning process.

Cooperative inquiry falls into what Bradbury and Lichtenstein call ‘interpersonal- exterior’ research (2000), that is, research which is interpersonal in its collective nature and exterior in seeking visible change and growth in praxis. The authors (Bradbury and Lichtenstein, 2000) have devised a matrix by which they are able to analyse the structures and benefits of various forms of research into organisational life. The components of the matrix include the differentiation of organisational research along the following typologies: multipersonal/interpersonal/personal; and interior/exterior (see Table 2, page 96).

The first characteristics – multipersonal/interpersonal/personal - have to do with the relationship between the subject and object, that is, the researcher and researched. The second characteristics – exterior/interior – relate to the locus of power and knowledge, whether they are shared or at some remove from the researcher, or whether they remain within the researcher. According to this analysis, cooperative inquiry is interpersonal in that it requires a high level of personal interaction between researcher and participants; in fact, the researchers and participants share roles to an extent which influences both the structure and the course of the research. Cooperative inquiry is also exterior in that the researcher does not hold the locus of power internally; s/he is not the sole voice or perception present in the analysis of the research.

Research Interior Exterior Characteristics Multipersonal 3rd-person studies; 3rd-person studies; relations between values “context-specific and social structures; ie. relational interactions”; correspondence analysis, ie. network analysis, structurationist analysis; complexity research; Interpersonal 2nd-person studies; 2nd-person studies; placing researcher in interactions between research field; ie. case researcher and subject; ie. study research, action co-operative inquiry; science insider/outsider research Personal 1st-person studies; 1st-person studies; exploring internal personal issues as part of personal impact upon research in relation to research; ie. journalling, external world; ie. action inquiry psychometric research, Self as instrument Table 2 Research characteristics of relational research based on Bradbury and Lichtenstein (2000)

However, cooperative inquiry, unlike action research or participatory action research, is less concerned with problem solving and more interested in what Heron (1996:109) calls ‘transformative inquiry’, that is learning which leads to transformation of praxis. As learning constitutes an ‘interior’ variable in Bradbury and Lichtenstein’s presentation, and praxis constitutes an ‘exterior’ variable, cooperative inquiry could at times straddle the two, and its inclusion in either category could be dependent on the specific topic and manner of inquiry being conducted.

There are similarities between cooperative inquiry and what Coghlan (2003) calls ‘organistic-oriented’ research, that is action research which is also reflexive regarding the process of the research itself. Coghlan’s (2003) analysis of insider action research, in which he discusses his concept of organistic research, is cogent with regard to the learning-in-action approach, which he states is “more complex

and subversive because it is guided by a primary aspiration to study the inquiry process and help it transform through increasingly intensive learning in action” (2003:452). At an individual level, co-operative inquiry could also be said to incorporate Schön’s (1991) notion of reflection-in-action, regarding the ways in which practitioners learn through reflecting on their actions while they are engaging in their professional activities.

Co-operative inquiry thus offers to us, as staff and volunteer of the Anglican Board of Mission, a process by which we can reflect on our activities and engage in sense-making, in order to learn from and transform current praxis. As Rowan and Reason (1981:114) have written, “it is clear that as we engage in inquiry within the new paradigm, traditional logics and ordinary levels of consciousness are no longer appropriate; they either break down or severely limit our capacity to understand.” They suggest that “changes in consciousness” (1981:116) are required; both our worldview and our intuitive engagement with what we perceive are changed by an epistemology which involves whole-person interaction with individuals, data, and events. Understanding is consequent upon a dialectical process (1981:129-132) which acknowledges the interdependence of phenomena, and their transient nature.

Methodology Within the participatory paradigm, with an ontology of ‘subjective-objective reality’ and an epistemology of co-created knowledge, cooperative inquiry is a methodological approach to research which begins by including research subjects as partners in the research, in a process of discovering a ‘mutual participative awareness’ (Heron, 1996:15). Participants come together to explore a subject of mutual interest in which they are engaged intellectually and personally. Having done so, cooperative inquiry provides a methodological process based on the traditional action research or learning cycles (Heron, 1996, Kakabadse and Kakabadse, 2002). The traditional action research cycle includes three cycles (or variations on the same): planning, action, evaluation (Grbich, 1999:203). Within

the co-operative inquiry cycle, the researchers move through four stages – reflection, action, immersion, and reflection. Each of these stages has a particular characteristic, described below.

Cooperative inquiry has evolved from earlier models of learning and action research (Kakabadse and Kakabadse, 2002). It differs from more traditional forms of action research in the ways it theorises power and decision-making within research. Co-operative inquiry is a participatory method which aims to break down the power imbalance inherent in traditional research models in which the researcher is seen as separate from the research subject. A co-operative inquiry requires the researcher to recognise her/his inextricable involvement in the research; the researcher influences the course of the research by the nature of who s/he is. The research subjects also have power (whether it is recognised or not), however, and in cooperative inquiry this power is recognised explicitly by inviting the subjects to become co-researchers in the research process, and to participate equally in the research. More than simply consent to the research, Heron calls for the participants to guide, reflect and influence the course of the research process. This, in his view, is a political right as much as a recognition of participants’ common humanity: “every social situation of decision-making is regarded as political” (Heron, 1996:16). To conduct research on people rather than with people is construed as an oppressive act. Cooperative inquiry is inherently democratic in seeking the decision-making participation of those who are involved in the research.

The research presented here is not case study research. The research focussed on a single ‘case’, however the purpose of the inquiry was transformative learning within the organisation rather than generating meaning which may be transferable to others (although meaning may be construed by others from the public presentation of our experience). Stake (1994:236) points out that the use of case

study is “not a methodological choice”; rather, the decision to study a particular case is a strategic one. He poses the question: “what can be learned from the single case?”, and notes that “As a form of research, case study is defined by interest in individual cases, not by the methods of inquiry used” (Stake, 1994:236). Although this research focussed on a single case of a faith-based organisation, the Anglican Board of Mission, it was not a study, which implies some level of objectivity, but an inquiry, a subjective experience with the aim of transformational learning by the participants within the organisation. It would be gratifying if others could gain insights or ideas from what was learned by the researchers in this project; however, this would be a pleasing additional benefit of the research rather than an intended outcome.

Co-operative inquiry aims to create a ‘multi-dimensional account of knowledge’ (Heron, 1996:33), through the inclusion of other perspectives than the one which the researcher brings to the project. This has the potential to create a more nuanced view of the research field, as the experience is shared by several co-researchers rather than just a single observer. The challenge implicit in this, however, is the requirement to relinquish power over the research, and to trust those with whom one is working enough to believe that a multiplicity of views improves rather than detracts from one’s own insights.

As noted above, the cooperative inquiry cycle includes four stages: reflection, action, immersion, and reflection. At first reading, this may seem like the three stages of action research (planning, action, evaluation) in another guise – surely the two reflection stages are in reality one activity? However, as Heron (1996) has conceptualised the stages, they each have distinct characteristics. As well, the language of ‘reflection’ is qualitatively different from that of ‘planning’ and ‘evaluation’, signalling an internal quality to the inquiry cycle which is absent, or

at least not emphasised, within traditional conceptions of action research. Diagram 4.1 below outlines the cooperative inquiry cycle as proposed by Heron.

Stage 1 – Reflection initiating topic reviewing, synthesising insights Stage 4 – Reflection Stage 2 – Action exploring through experience and action getting lost, gaining awareness, breaking through Stage 3 – Immersion

Diagram 4.1 (based on Heron 1996)

During stage 1, the researchers meet together to propose a topic or question, to determine the way in which the research will be conducted, and people’s roles within it. Ideally, all researchers are equally active within all stages of the research, but at the very least, all participants need to engage at this point in the cycle. This reflection stage is the point at which participants meet to reflect on organisational life and practice, to identify key questions, and to explore the dynamic by which the participants interact. Such things as the frequency of meetings and the means of data collection are discussed at this time, as well as the ways in which the action stage will be conducted and what roles and responsibilities participants will undertake.

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In stage 2, the researchers are active, through their individual or collective experiences, roles or research activities, in addressing the question at hand. Participants may undertake their activities individually or collectively, for instance choosing to separate to explore the topic in their own ways, and then bringing back to the group their own insights. Alternatively, the group may decide to act together, participating in some type of exercise or experiment in which all participate. Depending on the topic, action may be undertaken in a number of ways. Within this project, activities included observation, dialogue, archival and historic research, participation in meetings and organisational events, and travel. Heron (1996:58-59, and chapter seven of same) suggests that there are inquiry skills which are required in undertaking this kind of research; although he elucidates a number of them, they could be summarised as ‘radical openness’ and ‘radical practice’. Particular skills which might be required, or gained, through this active engagement with the topic include empathy and an ability to be present in the immediate moment; acute perception and the ability to conceptualise one’s perceptions; emotional intelligence and the ability to know oneself; and creative flexibility and the ability to reframe both the subject and one’s own relationship to the subject.

Stage 3 is in some ways a continuation of stage 2. The researchers become immersed in the topic, and find themselves absorbed by the questions, or the discoveries. This can happen in a number of ways: through an emerging conflict, a deeper understanding, an ‘aha!’ moment, or a sudden change in the emotional engagement either between participants or between a participant and the topic. It is particularly important, as part of this stage, to be intensely aware of one’s own emotional response to the subject, and to the research itself. This emotional response itself signals a change of engagement with the topic which leads the researcher to a deeper exploration of the issues at hand. Stage 3 could be short, a matter of a day or so, or it could be long, in one instance several weeks. Its

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resolution was always relatively quick, a momentary breakthrough in understanding which paved the way for stage 4. In one cycle, the resolution of stage 3 occurred during the reflection meeting which was intended to be the arena for stage 4.

In stage 4, the researchers meet together again to consider their findings, to analyse their experiences and to create a collective understanding. It is a time of articulating understanding, and sharing new insights. This stage is the completion of an inquiry cycle. The participants will reflect on the lessons which have been gained from the process, and articulate to each other what has been gained from their experiences. At this point the researchers may decide to end their inquiry, and consider how to transfer learning into practice. This reflection meeting may also lead consecutively into stage 1 of a new cycle, in which the learning from one cycle leads to the generation of a new question or topic for inquiry. Within this project, the reflection meetings were held quarterly, and each served both as stage 4 and, towards the end, as stage 1 of the successive cycle. It would be possible to structure this differently, and allow more time between completing one inquiry cycle and beginning the next. Our group was constrained by time and the difficulty of getting the five of us together in one place; hence the necessity of eliding the two stages. Even within a single meeting, however, the two stages were apparent and distinct. We analysed and considered and reflected upon our learning, generating new insights. When this process reached a natural conclusion, it was natural to then ask the questions: what does this new understanding lead us to explore now? What has emerged which requires attention?

While it would be possible for each cycle to lead to another in an unending learning process, in practice several cycles appear to be the life of an inquiry. Heron (1996) suggests that it is optimal to move through the cycle at least three times. Our project included three large research cycles over the course of 12

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months. The implementation of the inquiry and the way the cycles worked in practice are discussed in greater detail in chapter five.

The four forms of knowing (propositional, presentational, practical, experiential) fit neatly with the four stages of the inquiry cycle. Propositional knowledge generally is evident in stage 1, when the co-researchers meet to define the topic and structure the action phase. The group begins (generally) with a belief or idea about the topic, however tentative and unformed it may be. It is from this propositional knowledge that the group is able to proceed to explore the belief, through the activities of stage 2. This leads to practical knowledge – the learning-by-doing which in Heron’s mind is the highest form of knowledge. It is the knack (to use Heron’s term) for doing something which becomes clear, or is honed, during the actions of stage 2.

In the immersion of stage 3, experiential knowledge is gained as the researchers delve more deeply into the topic. It may be described as a visceral knowledge, or a moving of understanding from the head to the heart. The immersion phase is when the researchers’ experience of the subject of research becomes personal to them, and it leads them directly to stage 4, where the researchers articulate their experiences, thus gaining presentational knowledge through the challenge of sharing their experience with others, through dance, drama, music, the written word, etc.

The research project reported here is not a full co-operative inquiry; that is, not all participants were equally involved at all stages or in all decisions. There are several reasons for this, not the least being the requirement of doctoral research for

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an individual to produce a body of innovative work22. Another reason that this is not a full co-operative inquiry is the lack of time available on the part of staff members of ABM to commit to a research project in addition to their daily working priorities. While generous in the giving of their time, participation was necessarily constrained by the requirements of busy working schedules, in particular heavy travel commitments.

However, this does qualify as a partial, or modified, co-operative inquiry for several reasons. Firstly, the research questions were devised in consultation with staff of ABM over a period of several months, and in a spirit of collegial inquiry; the method was determined cooperatively throughout the three cycles. Secondly, a group of three participants met regularly and our actions and insights, individually and together, formed the action and immersion phases of the research, moving our ideas on towards a new understanding of the subject, leading to the next question and cycle of inquiry. Thirdly, there were three recognisable cycles of inquiry throughout the year, in which all four stages of the inquiry cycle were evident. Finally, an adherence to the notion of transformative learning as the goal of the inquiry did lead to the incorporation of organisational learning in several aspects of the participants’ work at ABM, my own as well as my colleagues.

Co-operative inquiry was an appropriate method to use for this research as it recognised my pre-existing relationship within the organisation, and intentionally shared power with my colleagues within ABM. By committing to a co-operative approach, we recognised the relation which each of us had to the topic at hand; in addition, the immediacy of the topic to the ongoing work of ABM meant that we were each influencing the topic even as the research inquiry progressed in the course of the year. A participatory paradigm which included collective sense-

22 Heron challenges this notion of traditional academia, arguing that traditional research sets up an artificial environment in which to seek knowledge, but in this thesis I am not challenging that notion. Heron, J. 1996, Co-operative inquiry: research into the human condition, SAGE Publications Ltd., London.

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making proved to be an effective means by which organisational learning could take place.

This method of inclusion through reflection means that the analysis and progress of the research is actually a team effort, if somewhat diffused by space and time in practice as not all discussions happened with group members gathered together in the same place at the same time. Sense-making took place collectively during our reflection meetings, and remains within the organisation as enhanced informed praxis; a further level of sense-making analysis took place as preparation for the writing of the thesis, itself a form of presentational knowledge.

Axiology Axiology is “the science of the ultimate nature, reality, and significance of values”, from the Greek axio and logos – ‘worthy discourse’ (Macdonald, 1978:91). As such, axiology forms a structure on which research is built, including the ethics of research, the values which the researcher brings, and the political stance by which the research is presented.

Heron (1996:20) argues that there are two aspects of the participatory paradigm – the epistemic and the political, both of which are relational. Epistemic participation is dependent upon the relation of the knower to the known; understanding is gained through a unique perspective inherent in the position of the researcher to the research topic. It is the political aspect of the participatory paradigm which is informed by the axiological stance of the researcher; that is, the values and ethics which the researchers bring to the research influence the political stance of the research project. Likewise, the participatory approach itself is a political statement of the value-base undergirding the research project. To choose to work in a participatory manner is to choose to value collaboration over competition; teamwork rather than solitary achievement; collective synergy rather than individual power. Participatory research is in itself an axiological response to

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hierarchical and positivist forms of research which have the potential to be oppressive rather than liberating in their approach.

The co-operative inquiry approach is based on an ethic of individual rights: that people who are being studied have the right to ensure that they are authentically represented in that research. Implicit in this ethic are such concepts as the unique value of the individual, the worth of their contribution, and the transformational potential of human interaction (Heron, 1996, Heron, 1981b, Heron, 2001b, Reason, 1988a, Reason, 1998, Reason, 2000). By extending an invitation to research subjects to join in the design and development of the research process itself, the researcher is giving up authority and sharing power with those who participate in the research. This is a communitarian model of research. It challenges the notion of empirical research by redefining research as an exercise in transformative learning. Reason (1998) refers more strongly to this practice as a ‘political imperative’, involving the recognition of individuals’ rights to be included in decisions which are made about them and their involvement in research.

Participant-observation research itself requires an ethic of respect and honour for the research participants. There is a danger inherent in working intimately within a social grouping for a period of time when it comes to analysing and presenting the results of the study. Sanchez-Jankowski (2002) emphasises the responsibility which the researcher faces to act responsibly with regard to the findings and the participants, when it comes to reporting. Representing faithfully what one has observed while being aware of the potential consequences of such observations may require walking a fine line between one’s analysis and the social relationships one has formed during the course of the research. Participant-observation research is by nature intrusive; one has the responsibility to minimise any risks of that intrusion on those who have been generous enough to invite one in. This is the risk

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which cooperative inquiry attempts to alleviate, by involving all participants fully in each decision, including how the research results are presented.

The importance of the stance of the researcher and correspondingly, the awareness of one’s own values and projections, are acknowledged by many writers, certainly in qualitative research and particularly in the field of ethnographic research (Smith, 2000, Coffey, 2002, Lewis, 2001, Harrison et al., 2001). Liberman (1999) suggests three ethical responsibilities of ethnographic research: to the ‘social phenomena’, that is the group of people one is studying; to the integrity of the research process; and to the individual subjects. While the language used is firmly grounded in the sociological approach to ethnography, the point which can be taken from Liberman’s three obligations is the requirement of the researcher to be aware of her/his own relationality within the research process, to the individuals and community as well as to the decision-making, analysis and reporting of the research. Writing about qualitative health research, Kuzel and Engel (2001) identify values as a category for evaluating qualitative studies; according to the authors, ‘desirable features’ of qualitative health research include values, characteristics of the research, techniques, and outcomes.

From the perspective of feminist research, a foundational principle is the importance of making explicit the emotional and value-laden aspects of the research process and interpretation (Grbich, 1999, Harrison et al., 2001, Christians, 2000). Harrison et al. (2001) point out that researchers’ decisions about how to design and conduct the research are political decisions, writing: “More often now, this [feminist] research is presented in ways that make clear how the researchers’ own experiences, values, and positions of privilege in various hierarchies have influenced their research interests, the ways they choose to do their research, and the ways they choose to represent their research findings” (Harrison et al., 2001:325). This is a principle which is emphasised by both Heron (1996) and by

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Reason and Bradbury (2001) in the context of cooperative inquiry, recognising that researchers’ emotional journey through the research may form part of the data of the inquiry and need to be worked with sensitively. The inherent valuing of one’s whole-person engagement with the research thus becomes a requisite notion within the axiological basis of the research process.

It seems appropriate at this point, then, to make myself visible as the researcher, in an effort to ensure that the axiological ground of my approach to the research is transparent to the reader. The values which I bring to this research (and which I believe are congruent with the values of my co-researchers) are formed by many things: my upbringing in the United States and education in that country, the United Kingdom, and Australia; my family norms, my experience of living as an expatriate in England and Australia, the teachings of my faith community. In my research and academic studies I have been influenced by the writings of both feminist theologians and feminist researchers, towards an ethic of equality and power-sharing; from my years within the Society of Friends my notions of consensus decision-making have been sharpened; from my reading in the area known as ‘political theology’ (see for instance Cobb, 1982, Yoder, 1972, Defensor Santiago, 2001) my understanding of an alternative reading of contemporary society from a faith-based political perspective has more recently been developing. Together, these various influences position me towards a liberal, social democratic political sensibility with a particular concern for issues of social justice.

Validity The validity or trustworthiness (Harrison et al., 2001) of the data has been refined through the inquiry process itself. Heron (1981a, 1996) and Reason (1981) both outline a number of ways in which to ensure a rigorous authenticity to the results of a qualitative inquiry using a participatory paradigm.

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One of the ways of ensuring authenticity is to incorporate a variety of means of data collection, experience, action, and reflection. Within these, Heron (1996) suggests that strategies of divergence and convergence can be employed in order to facilitate a diversity of perspectives and ideas; ‘divergence’ in this sense means that participants diverge in either the questions they explore, or in the activities which they undertake during the action phases of the research. Likewise, ‘convergence’ suggests that all participants explore the same questions at the same time, or undertake the same research activities, or both. A mixture of divergent and convergent action is suggested to increase the breadth of perspective and insight. Within this study, participants converged in exploring a similar question within each inquiry cycle, but diverged in that each participant explored the question from their own position within the organisation, and through the conduct of their own professional activities. There was also divergence between each cycle, with a different question being asked in each of the three phases. Likewise, there was a balance between what Heron describes as the ‘fourfold interaction’ (1996:134), between group and individual efforts as well as between reflection and action. Any research inquiry will contain aspects of these four components, to a greater or lesser extent, determined by the nature of the inquiry and the availability and commitment of the participants. Diagram 4.2 illustrates this spectrum of participatory action and engagement.

Reflection

Individual Group autonomy interaction

Action Diagram 4.2 Heron 1996:134

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This variety served to strengthen the trustworthiness of the ideas presented here23. That is, the meaning constructed here is the result of the processes within the inquiry itself which sought to weave together the experiences and perceptions of five different people, each by the nature of their positions within ABM bringing to the research a slightly different perspective on the work of the organisation. The research method is itself a way of enhancing the development of the capacities it is seeking to inquire into...The core of the validation process and the key to its quality is provided by the critical and corrective feedback loops, in which the theory with which the co-researchers start is continually reviewed in the light of action and experience (Heron, 1981a:165, italics original).

Harrison et al. (2001) analyse the validity (or trustworthiness) of research findings in terms of the reciprocity which is required of qualitative researchers working within the complexity of social interactions. By reciprocity they mean the use of the “give and take of social interactions” (Harrison et al., 2001:323) to minimise the power differential between researcher and research participants. They are writing in relation to qualitative research in settings where research subjects are not co-participants, and they argue that reciprocity is required in relationship with research subjects so that the research is not exploitive. In other words, researchers need to give of themselves to an extent, just as the research subjects have given of themselves. This argument does not apply directly to cooperative inquiry, which as already described begins with a different political stance regarding participation. The inquiry process overcomes the intrinsic power imbalance of traditional research by making explicit the cooperation of all participants. However, the notion of trustworthiness – the need to validate the data by ensuring fidelity to the participants’ own perspectives – is applicable in the act of writing a thesis such as

23 Trustworthiness is defined by Harrison et al. as “the ways we work to meet the criteria of validity, credibility, and believability of our research – as assessed by the academy, our communities, and our participants.” Harrison, J., MacGibbon, L. and Morton, M. 2001, 'Regimes of trustworthiness in qualitative research: the rigors of reciprocity', Qualitative Inquiry, vol. 7, no. 3, pp. 323-345.

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this one, as a reminder that the co-creation of findings includes the perspectives of all co-researchers in the generation of meaning.

Reason (1981:240) describes a number of types of validity in traditional research, concepts such as convergent validity, construct validity, or contextual validity. He points out that notions of validity are dependent upon notions of truth, and suggests that in a research paradigm based on participation and interaction, “valid knowledge is a matter of relationship” (:241), between the knower and what is known. In viewing truth as dialectic and as part of a process, a participatory research paradigm recognises that truth is both subjective and intersubjective. Aware of the dangers of uncritical subjectivity, Reason (:242-243) proposes three forms of validity in participatory research: ‘descriptive’ (does the research ‘map’ what is really happening?), ‘internal’ (is the action coherent with what we intend?), and ‘intersubjective’ (is it recognised as truth by those who are involved?). In the end, however, Reason argues that “validity in new paradigm research lies in the skills and sensitivities of the researcher, in how he or she uses herself as a knower, as an inquirer. Validity is more personal and interpersonal, rather than methodological” (:244).

Because of this, it is incumbent on the researcher to verify her/his findings with participants. In qualitative research, this could be done through providing transcripts or reports of research to participants, in order to provide the opportunity for feedback and clarification. Harrison et al. (2001) describe three research projects in which the researchers were challenged to examine their own perspectives in light of those of the research participants, and to evaluate their own place in the research field. Meadows and Morse (2001) outline a number of ways to build verification strategies into the process of research so that data is verified during the course of the project. Validity within qualitative research will always bear the hallmarks of relativity; without a positivist worldview which sees truth as

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static, qualitative research will suggest that ‘this is true for us at this point in time’. It is exploratory rather than definitive, process- rather than outcome-oriented. What is important within qualitative research is that rigour and discipline are employed to ensure that, within the methodological paradigm, validity is as comprehensive as possible.

The process and analysis of the cooperative inquiry which we undertook are explained in detail in the following chapter. Making sense of the data is an important part of qualitative analysis and needs careful explication to provide a coherent picture for the reader of how the findings were created. The terms which are used within qualitative research to describe the constructs of validity and rigour are contested (Meadows and Morse, 2001, Harrison et al., 2001). Many researchers consider that the terms applied within quantitative research cannot apply easily to qualitative research. Others seek to co-opt and re-interpret these terms, terms such as validity and reliability, in ways which are congruent with qualitative methods. Meadows and Morse use the term ‘strategies for verification’ to describe “techniques that contribute to the validity of a project and are implemented in the actual research process” (Meadows and Morse, 2001:189). In this thesis, the term validity is retained, understanding that its use in qualitative research requires different techniques to those employed in a quantitative methodology. In cooperative inquiry, the analysis process is an iterative one through the various stages of the research, particularly in the reflection stage. The reflective fourth stage of the inquiry cycle is a stopping point, a place where the group comes together to construct an understanding of the topic through collective analysis. Through successive cycles, insights gained in one cycle are built upon and expanded in the next, so that by the end of the research process a new understanding is gained and owned by the participants. The practice of this is described in the following chapter, and the results in succeeding chapters.

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Our informal dialogue and conversations during the first three stages were recorded manually by me. The group reflections in the fourth stage, and the conversations with the Development Committee, were tape-recorded. These tape-recordings were transcribed by me. Text and insights from both the fieldwork notes and the transcripts were used to augment the learning which was iteratively and collectively gained by the group during three reflection sessions. The emerging themes from the inquiry cycles informed the research process, and the insights from the reflection sessions and the resultant learning or action formed the results of the process. The aim of the project was organisational learning rather than theory generation, and it is consistent with Heron’s (1996) theory that the results were practical knowledge: change and insights into praxis which influenced the group in its ongoing work together.

Sense-making and validity are strengthened by shared perspectives (Bradbury and Lichtenstein, 2000, Heron, 1996, Heron and Reason, 1997, Reason, 1981). Bradbury and Lichtenstein (2000) point out that the interdependence of research validity and the context of the researchers and participants, required for relationality research, is not easy for everyone to accept, and in many ways challenges the traditional norms of conducting research. The importance of this notion lies in the recognition of the importance of the researcher(s), and the researcher’s relations within the research, as part of the research itself. The findings of the research, then, are valid to the extent that they authentically reflect the experience of those who participated in the inquiry, and to the extent that they represent the transformational process of organisational learning.

Summary This chapter has presented the philosophical grounding for the participatory paradigm, and argued for its relevance to the topic and environment of the research. A participatory paradigm is not only congruent with my philosophical

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stance as a researcher, but fits the ethos of the organisation in which the research took place. The ontological, epistemological, methodological, and axiological grounding for the research lay a theoretical framework in which the actual journey of the research, and the experience of the participants, can be described and discussed. An examination of these four foundations of the participatory paradigm makes clear why the cooperative inquiry process was chosen for this research project. The notion of ‘subjective-objective reality’, the epistemic acknowledgement of ‘co-created’ learning, the methodology of cooperation and democratic decision-making, combine with an axiological stance which values the contribution of each participant. The strengths of the co-operative inquiry approach are the recognition of the epistemic and political aspects of participation, the deliberate sharing of power in the co-creation of knowledge, and the relevance of the inquiry cycle to organisational learning. It seems appropriate to work within a faith-based organisation using a theoretical framework which valorises the spiritual aspects of the human being as well as his/her emotional, social, and intellectual engagement within a research field.

Having established the philosophical underpinnings of the research, the next chapter will continue to discuss the methodological approach, with regard to the specific nature of the inquiry undertaken within ABM. While this chapter analysed the theoretical aspects of cooperative inquiry, the next chapter discusses the practical aspects of how the inquiry was organised and implemented.

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Key points:

• The participatory paradigm is recognised as a separate paradigm from previous philosophical stances, such as positivism, post-positivism, critical theory, and constructivism. • Cooperative inquiry is a method based upon the theoretical framework of the participatory paradigm, including the notions of ‘subjective-objective reality’ and co-created learning, within a political stance of power-sharing and democratic decision-making. • Trustworthiness of the research is based upon qualitative re-interpretations of classic constructs of validity; sense-making was the way in which analysis of data took place, as a collective and reflective analysis of participants’ experiences and insights. • For the purposes of the doctoral thesis, further analysis included reflexive writing and an additional level of content analysis of fieldnotes and transcripts by the doctoral researcher.

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Chapter Five: Cooperative inquiry in action

Introduction The preceding chapter discussed the philosophical dimensions of the participatory paradigm used in this study, and argued that the cooperative inquiry approach is grounded in an epistemology of co-created knowledge: that is, knowledge is created through the interaction of humans with each other and with the larger world around them. This method was judged to be the most appropriate both for a faith- based organisation and for the circumstances of a participant researcher working with colleagues and friends. Cooperative inquiry was attractive philosophically and methodologically for two reasons: 1) its realist acknowledgement of an objective universe outside of one’s own perceptions, within an ontology of subjective-objective reality which recognises the ways in which humans co-create reality through their interaction with the world; and 2) its willing renunciation of research techniques based on inequities of participation and power in favour of research which is inclusive with an ethic of shared power.

This chapter provides an overview of the approach as it worked in practice. Here I present an overview of the research process itself: what we did, what happened, and how it worked. Points will be raised here which will be addressed more completely in the three chapters which follow, each of which will discuss the foreground issue of a cycle of inquiry. In this chapter, I describe broadly both the development of the research and the practical aspects of undertaking a cooperative inquiry. Three cycles of inquiry were undertaken in the course of a 12-month period. The theme of each cycle is analysed in greater detail in chapters six through eight. Together, these chapters tell a story from one year in the life of a 154-year old organisation.

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It is difficult to present the results of iterative research in ways which do not leave the reader behind. In writing this thesis, I made a decision to report the project through the successive cycles and the learning which emerged from each. However, many of the themes of the research were pervasive throughout all three cycles, yet explored in detail only in one particular four-month period. For this reason, the summary provided in this chapter was written to provide an overview of much of the subsequent material found in chapters six through eight. I recognise, however, that concepts may be introduced in one chapter and yet not explored fully until a later chapter. I considered it important to allow the unfolding story to emerge, and for the progressive understanding of the group to be made clear. It may be helpful for the reader, therefore, to keep this in mind when reading the analysis in chapters six through eight, and to refer back to chapter five when necessary as an overview of the process.

The research fieldwork took place from January-December 2004 within the Anglican Board of Mission. There were five main participants in the research during the course of the year: Linda Kurti, volunteer committee member and doctoral student; John Deane, ABM Community Development Program Coordinator; Sophie Davies, ABM Community Development Project Officer; Geoff Smith, National Director of ABM; and Carolyn Kitto, Evangelism and Church Support Program Coordinator.

I had been involved in a voluntary capacity with the organisation since 1998, first on the Board and Standing Committee and, since 2001, as a member of the Development Committee (these structures are described in chapters six and seven; see also Appendix Two). It was my involvement with the Development

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Committee which led to my interest in international health and development and thus to the initiation of this research project.

John Deane had managed ABM’s Community Development Program since 1997. An ordained Anglican priest, at the time of the research he was also an ACFID Vice-President and a NGO representative on AusAID’s Committee for Development Cooperation. John initiated the organisation’s application for accreditation with AusAID and had been instrumental in the growth and professionalisation of the Community Development Program.

Sophie Davies joined ABM in 2000, with hands-on experience of development work in Central America and a Master’s degree in international development. She brought both practical experience and theoretical knowledge to ABM; she was responsible primarily for the Papua New Guinea program and for monitoring and evaluation. In recent years she had served on ACFID’s Development Practice Advisory Committee (DPAC).

Geoff Smith was appointed National Director of ABM in 2000, in the midst of an organisational restructure. An ordained Anglican priest, he served as an ABM missionary in PNG for three years from 1987-1990. Geoff provided leadership and direction to the organisation as it moved from restructure to consolidation, including a move to new premises in 2003.

Carolyn Kitto became Evangelism & Church Support Coordinator in 2002, after extensive experience working with churches and church organisations in the area of mission and church-growth. Carolyn was responsible for ABM’s activities in theological education and ministry. (Carolyn was not initially involved in the research, but as the inquiry expanded from the Community Development Program

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to issues which affected ABM as a whole, she was invited to join the project, and participated in the second and third inquiry cycles.)

Co-researcher Role Joined ABM Linda Kurti Doctoral researcher; volunteer committee 1998 member John Deane Community Development Program Co-ordinator 1997 Sophie Davies Community Development Project Officer 2000 Geoff Smith National Director 2000 Carolyn Kitto Evangelism & Church Support Program Co- 2002 ordinator Table 3 Cooperative inquiry participants

Of the four staff participants, John and Sophie formed the entire staff of the Community Development Program, so were the most informed regarding the organisation’s work in development. Geoff, as the CEO of the organisation, was the most senior staff member and had a strategic and operational understanding of the organisation. Carolyn, as the only staff member of the E&CS program, was the most informed regarding ABM’s work in its other program. Geoff, John and Carolyn were the most senior staff members of the organisation. The other ABM staff performed administrative, promotional or financial functions within the organisation and were not engaged on a daily basis with the theoretical and practical issues which were being addressed. The Board, meeting quarterly, was informed about the research but was not involved in the fieldwork itself which occurred at the staff level. The Board did, however, take up the issues which emerged from the research, as will be discussed briefly later in the thesis.

There were five phases to the research project: • Preparation, in which the research question was developed; • First cycle of inquiry; • Second cycle of inquiry;

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• Third cycle of inquiry; and • Sense-making.

The following sections outline these phases, describing the development and implementation of the research, and analysing the method in light of the reality encountered during the fieldwork.

Preparation for the inquiry cycles, May-December 2003 Within the cooperative inquiry paradigm the research questions are to emerge from the group itself, as are the methods of answering the questions (Heron, 1996, Heron, 1981a, Heron and Reason, 1997). This differs from positivist forms of research, where both the question and the activities of the research are designed objectively, without including the subjects of the study. The period from May – December 2003, in which the question and method were designed, was important as a foundation in which relationships were developed, ideas were shared, and the groundwork was laid for the cooperation which was essential to the success of the project. The primary research question emerged out of this period as I read and pondered the issues, and discussed them at length with John and Sophie.

The cyclical nature of cooperative inquiry, with each inquiry cycle leading into another, allows for the formation of new research questions during the reflection phases. In this study the primary research question remained an overarching one for the research, but was not the only research question. Each cycle generated its own question, which was answered, or at least explored, during the course of that cycle’s inquiry. Taken together, the three research cycles present a multivariate perspective on the position of a faith-based NGO in the Australian development sector. The questions explored during the three inquiry cycles can be summarised as follows:

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CYCLE FOCUS QUESTION 1 faith-based NGOs and How is a faith-based NGO influenced January- government by its relationship with government and April the international development sector? 2 development and mission What does it mean for an historic May- mission agency to take on an additional August identity as a development agency? 3 faith-based NGOs, church “How do we make the space to September- and government breathe?”, that is: how does ABM hold December in balance its concept of holistic mission? Table 4 Inquiry cycle research questions

Development of the first research question The focus for the study was first proposed on 9th May, 2003, following a Development Committee meeting at which I heard John Deane outline the possibility of a new program being developed collaboratively with AusAID, the Adventist Development Relief Agency (ADRA), and the Catholic agency Caritas Australia (Caritas). The concept for the new program arose out of a peer review process which the three agencies – ABM, ADRA, and Caritas – had undertaken a year previously (see Nichols 2003). Partly as a result of this voluntary learning process in which the agencies collaborated, and partly out of a changing understanding of the contribution of faith-based agencies, particularly in developing countries, AusAID had become interested in the idea of working more closely with faith-based agencies. As John outlined the concept, AusAID was interested in working directly with civil society organisations in the delivery of essential services, in order to strengthen the capacity of the country to provide for its people. It was recognised by AusAID that the churches were an integral part of civil society in Papua New Guinea, leading AusAID to develop a new interest in the work of the churches and of church-based NGOs. During this discussion I was struck by the way in which changing priorities within government could have an effect on the opportunities and programs which we developed with our partner churches. When I spoke to Geoff about this after the meeting, he said that he thought it would be interesting to know why government was interested in working

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with faith-based organisations, as it was a definite shift in perspective for the government.

Discussions regarding the proposed program continued, and I attended meetings with AusAID in Canberra in June and August as a representative of the Development Committee, and subsequent meetings in September and October. During this period, I refined my interest to focus specifically on the impact which working with the government has on an agency like ABM, which is religious in orientation and has its own objectives in furthering the ability of the church to care for people in need. After discussions with both John and Geoff, a research proposal was formally sent to ABM in November, and approved by them, for an in-depth participatory research project. The primary question had emerged from conversations with John, Geoff, and Sophie over the six months since our May meeting: How is a faith-based NGO influenced by its relationship with government and the international development sector?

John, Sophie, Geoff and I met together on 10th December 2003 to finalise our agreement, which we termed a Memorandum of Understanding between ABM and the School of Public Health and Community Medicine (see Appendix Three). This document set the research in the context of my doctoral studies and clarified our agreement with regard to confidentiality, publishing, and intellectual property. Less formally, we talked about how we would work together. We agreed that I would spend two to three days a week in the office, and that a desk would be provided for me to do so. We agreed that I would work primarily with John and Sophie but that Geoff would be kept informed, and we would meet together every six weeks (in reality this became quarterly). We agreed that before I published anything or presented the research publicly, John or Geoff would read and approve it within three weeks. Most importantly, John and Geoff decided that ABM could

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be named as the case study, rather than remaining anonymous in my public writing. They believed it was important that they should be committed both to sharing their learning and to being an example of an organisation willing to reflect and learn from experience.

During the period of formulating the research questions, I had also been searching for a methodological approach which would reflect the circumstances of my involvement with ABM. I was interested in the use of a participatory approach as a way of recognising the importance of John and Sophie to the research. They were, in fact, the research subjects. However, as a member of the Development Committee I too was a research subject. My own involvement with the Anglican Board of Mission as a volunteer policy maker became the ground from which I built my exploration of the organisation’s involvement in the international development sector, including staff within the agency because we were all, in our own ways, co-creators of the history and discourse surrounding ABM’s Community Development Program.

Choosing to research within ABM, an organisation with which I was already familiar, brought with it the implicit tensions of a number of dichotomies: between mission and development models; between the Christian church within a European- derived culture and the Christian church within cultures with a colonial past; and between me as both an insider and outsider within the Anglican Church in Australia. I am not able to do justice to the dichotomy between cultural expressions of Christianity in this thesis, as that topic deserves a thesis to itself. However, aspects of this dichotomy appeared throughout the project and are reflected here in discussions regarding ABM’s approach to its work and to its relationships with its partners. The dichotomy between mission and development models is explored in chapters six and seven, as I analyse the themes of values and identity.

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The dichotomy of my position as both an insider and an outsider within the Anglican Church is one which needs clarification. Harrison et al. (2001:329) discuss the concept of ‘research selves’, a concept analysed by Reinharz (as quoted in Harrison et al., 2001:329) and others (see, for instance, Coffey, 2002). This refers to the different parts of one’s identity which may impact on the relationships with research participants and the researcher. As Reinharz writes: “The self we create in the field is a product of the norms of the social setting and the ways in which the ‘research subjects’ interact with the selves the researcher brings to the field” (Reinharz, in Harrison et al., 2001:329, italics original). I felt very aware, when beginning the research, that I was entering another’s space: that is, ABM seemed to me to belong to the staff, and the very fact of my asking questions felt impertinent when I had respect for the work they were doing. Although I had been part of ABM for a number of years as a volunteer, and therefore had an extensive knowledge of the organisation and could be classed as an ‘insider’, I felt very much on the outside when I first began doing fieldwork. Springwood and King (2001) note that these dichotomies can themselves be problematic and intrusive to an understanding of the discourses occurring in the field. Although my research was not ethnographic in the traditional sense of entering a foreign environment, there was an ethnographic component of my own attempts to understand my place in the organisation, and I was aware of making use of ethnographic tools such as reflexive writing as a way of making sense to myself of what I was both observing and intuiting during the course of the year’s fieldwork.

At our meeting in December, I presented my understanding of cooperative inquiry and suggested that we had already been working cooperatively in coming up with the research question. It was my view that Heron’s notion of shared power and decision-making suited our established collegiality. I outlined the four stages of the inquiry cycle as proposed by John Heron (see diagram on page 125) and

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suggested a quarterly cycle of reflection bounded by the quarterly Development Committee meetings. This would allow our small group of co-researchers to analyse what we had learned and put forward suggestions, which could then be ‘tested’ through discussion with DevCom as a type of validity check on our findings. In this way, we could reflect on the data and pose new questions, which would lead us into the next cycle of inquiry. There would be time for three cycles of inquiry over the year, given that the fieldwork period was intended to last from January to December. John, Geoff and Sophie liked the concept of the proposed method, and were happy to participate in this way.

Diagram 5.1 (based on Heron 1996)

My role to this point could be described in Heron’s terms (Heron, 1996:38-41) as the initiating researcher, and as an internal researcher. Clearly, I was the initiator of the inquiry, and invited ABM to participate in my doctoral research; at the same time, however, the inquiry was also generated through discussions with ABM staff and through an openness on their part to contribute to the development of my thinking. I was aware of the demands which the research might potentially make on the staff’s time, and also concerned not to be an intrusion on the team. On the

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other hand, John in particular was welcoming of opportunities to learn and to improve the Community Development Program, and was generous in inviting me to enter the space of the Program’s office at ABM. While not staff of the organisation, I was still internal to the organisation by virtue of my long involvement as a volunteer, and would be looking at the organisation with something of the perspective of an insider.

The proposed schedule of inquiry cycles which I outlined above was agreed by John, Sophie and Geoff, and the research question cited above served as the first research question, remaining the primary focus of the research.

Research ethics and consent An application for ethics approval was made to the UNSW Medical and Community Human Research Ethics Advisory Panel in September 2003 and approval was received on 12th November 200324. Recruitment for the study was from within the organisation and occurred iteratively as the question was formed, as discussed above. The first conversations which I had were with John and with Geoff: John as the coordinator of the community development program and Geoff as head of the organisation. Sophie, the only other staff member working in community development, was a natural staff member to include, and Carolyn as the coordinator of the second program of the organisation (Evangelism & Church Support) also became a natural addition to the research team. All of these participants signed consent forms allowing the recording of meetings and conversations, and accepting the presence of a participant-observer.

The remaining nine staff of the organisation, and the eight members of ABM’s Development Committee, also signed consent forms acknowledging the scope and nature of the research. Staff were informed about the research when fieldwork began, at a morning tea during which I talked about what I would be doing and

24 HREA Panel reference 0037010.

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explained my role as observer within the office. Although these staff were not directly included in the research, inviting them to hear about the research and to ‘sign-up’ through the consent forms was a way of asking for their acceptance of my presence and also allowing them to opt out of conversations with me if they chose. I made it clear that I would be listening to and hearing many formal and informal conversations during the year, some of which would feed my own analysis of the organisation. At this morning tea, staff were interested in the idea of ABM being researched, and (as I heard later) felt pleased that someone thought the work of the organisation was worth researching. There was a bit of excitement about the novelty of having someone come to live with them, as it were. Staff of the organisation were present in the research primarily through the environmental context; as participant researcher within the organisation for a year, my interactions with staff informed my understanding of the organisation.

At the first Development Committee meeting during the fieldwork, in January 2004, I outlined the research and asked for the members’ participation through structured discussions at our quarterly meetings. All members of the Development Committee agreed and signed consent forms accordingly. They participated in the research through reflective conversations held within two of the quarterly Development Committee meetings; this involvement is discussed further below.

Overview of the research cycles The three research cycles are summarised in diagram 5.2 on page 129, and outlined in the next sections of this chapter. Each cycle is analysed in greater detail in chapters six through eight. In the diagram below, each cycle of inquiry is described, with the major focus of each cycle summarised in bold type. Thus the focus of the first cycle was the relationship of the faith-based NGO and government. The focus of the second cycle was the relationship between concepts of Christian mission and international development, and more specifically between the Community Development Program and the Evangelism & Church Support

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Program within ABM. The focus of the third cycle was accountability, and the ways in which ABM seeks legitimation through its relationships with stakeholders.

Research cycle 1: January-April 2004 (see also chapter six) We began our study with the primary research question: “how is a faith-based NGO influenced by its relationship with government and the international development sector?”, and examined the relationship between our organisation and the government and aid sector. In recognising the impact of the requirements of government accreditation and membership of ACFID, we were also exploring our own history, what the organisation was like before the involvement with the aid sector, and what we brought to that relationship. By the end of the cycle, a question had emerged as to the nature of the influence of this relationship on our understanding of our organisational identity.

The realities of the organisation meant that we adjusted the ideal theory of cooperative inquiry to meet our circumstances. Heron himself (1996:6) is careful to state that his presentation of the theory of cooperative inquiry is not prescriptive. As discussed in chapter four, a subjective-objective paradigm negates a single valid methodological approach to cooperative research; in other words, cooperative inquiry is an invitation to creativity within qualitative research. As Heron (1996:3) writes: “the basic explanatory model for creative, original research behaviour is that of intelligent self-direction.” It requires an attitude of openness, surprise, and sharing. There is no single way to undertake cooperative inquiry, although Heron suggests that there are certain fundamental principles which ground an inquiry and contribute to its validity. These are:

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January – April May – August September – December 2004 2004 2004

Reflection

CYCLE Reflection ONE Action Values Reflection

Immersion CYCLE Reflection TWO Action Identity Reflection

CYCLE Immersion Reflection THREE Action Accountability

Immersion Diagram 5.2 Overview of research inquiry cycles

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• that all participants are involved in all decisions about content and method, as much as possible; • that there is a relation between reflection and sense-making, experience and action; • that validity is a deliberate construct in the design of the research; • that there is freedom of awareness which can contribute to transformation; • that a variety of skills are employed; and • that all senses can be included within the inquiry. (Heron, 1996:19-20, paraphrased)

Our approach to the method took account of the dispersed team and the fact that people were rarely in the office at the same time. To provide a picture of what this actually meant: during the first four-month period John was in the Philippines, Solomon Islands, and PNG, as well as Canberra and Melbourne. Sophie was based in Canberra, working four days a week, and made a trip to PNG as well as several trips to Sydney; I travelled down to Canberra once to spend time with her. Geoff travelled consistently, primarily throughout Australia. When John and I were in the office together, we made time for discussion and analysis of the research I had been doing, and I was in frequent contact with Sophie by telephone and email. However, I was the primary researcher and the historical research, observation, and summation were undertaken by me, involving John and Sophie in what I was discovering, which gave us a basis for generating new insights or new questions.

The practical tasks of the first cycle were found in document analysis and historical research, observation, writing, and synthesis regarding key themes and ideas. Towards the end of the first cycle, I provided a brief paper for John, Sophie and Geoff outlining five key themes, and the ways in which they were demonstrated in the organisation. The four of us met for two hours one day in

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April, and reflected together on the ideas in that paper. I began by presenting what I saw within the organisation and the various ways in which I perceived that the organisation had been impacted by its relationship with government. We talked about the ways in which the organisation, through its accreditation with AusAID and its membership of ACFID, influenced the policy context. The five themes wove their way throughout the year of research; as I originally presented them they were: 1. changes within ABM as a result of growing community development activities – related to the demands made upon the organisation through government accreditation, such as financial and organisational systems, and their consequences; 2. tension between mission and development – related specifically to the philosophy and intent underpinning the two Programs, Evangelism and Church Support (E&CS) and Community Development (ComDev); 3. relations with partner churches – referred to the ways in which communication and decision-making with partners takes place; 4. relations and identity within development industry – referred to the way in which ABM balances its identity as a development agency, and as a mission agency; and 5. implications of the PNG Church Partnership Program – referred specifically to the ways in which ABM will undertake capacity building with the ACPNG and how it negotiates a government-funded program which theoretically at least cuts across E&CS and ComDev.

This was the first time that we had formally met together since the start of the research. We met in Geoff’s office, sitting in comfortable chairs around a coffee table. The dynamic of the team of three – John, Sophie and me - was changed by the inclusion of Geoff, the National Director. The team of three was focussed on the work of the Community Development Program, with a common perspective

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of that Program and its aims. Geoff, as the overseer of the whole organisation, had a more global perspective than the three of us. In his leadership position he was equally involved with both Programs, and concerned for the balance between Community Development and Evangelism and Church Support. Where my tendency was to see the growth of the Community Development Program as positive, Geoff, naturally enough in his role, was cautious regarding the potential dangers of unfettered growth in the development work to the identity of the organisation as a whole. It is true to say as well that the three staff members themselves, Geoff, John and Sophie, did not often have opportunities to sit together simply for the purpose of reflection. In our first meeting together, therefore, they and I were uncertain how to conduct a ‘reflection’, or what would emerge from it.

Our discussion led to the importance for the organisation of holding together the two aspects of its work, church support and development. This was potentially threatened by the rapid expansion of the Community Development Program, as until now the two Programs were roughly equivalent in staffing, financing and activity levels. With full accreditation with AusAID expected at the end of 2004, and with the CPP , ComDev faced at least a doubling of staff and a greater increase in funding. With this growth would come an ideological challenge, since the organisation is inherently Christian, and explicitly created for Christian mission, while its substantial growth currently was in the area of government- funded community development. The questions of how we saw the organisation and how we reconciled the two Program areas became focal ones. If we saw ourselves as a mission agency but the government saw us as a development agency, issues of our identity and ultimate goals would become very important in holding together both aspects of our work.

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These reflections led us to the question which guided the second cycle: what does it mean for an historic Christian mission agency to take on an additional identity as a development agency?

The immersion stage in all cycles seemed to be characterised by a period of frustration or feeling of being lost, followed by a sense of relief or an ‘aha’ moment in which a point suddenly became clear. In the first cycle, I experienced a continual, niggling feeling that we were missing something, or that we were talking around an issue but hadn’t found our way to the important essence of the question. This grew stronger as I pursued plans to incorporate travel to Papua New Guinea into my fieldwork, as a way of exploring our work there in greater depth. This plan was continually frustrated by circumstances, and it was only at our reflection meeting that it became clear to me that the work in Papua New Guinea was an interesting but not a central focus; rather, the focus of the research had to be more internal to ABM, focussing on the ways in which the increase of the Community Development Program had affected the agency as a whole.

Our plan had been to bring our conclusions to the Development Committee following our reflection meeting, in order to include that group in a second reflection phase and to provide greater perspective on ABM’s development work. This proved to be more difficult than anticipated, as we came to recognise that the Committee itself needed development in its sense of unity and purpose. From the perspective of the methodology, it is not surprising that the Committee was not able to participate in the research as had been intended, since the Development Committee members were not themselves involved in the design of the research process and thus had no stake in it. Heron argues that: ...practical knowledge, knowing how to exercise a skill, supported by propositional knowledge, is the primary kind of research outcome. If this is so, then it inescapably underlines the importance of all or most of the researchers also being the subjects of their own research, since practical knowledge as a research

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outcome cannot be about anyone else, since it is not about anything and is not cast in propositional form. It can only be evident as a skill the researcher has cultivated as a consequence of being a co-subject within the research. As a research outcome it is also a researcher outcome (Heron, 1996:34, italics original).

From the team’s perspective, we wanted to offer Committee members an opportunity to engage with some of the questions regarding the nature of community development, not just as part of the research but in order to engage the members more closely in the philosophical growth of the Program, and to begin to develop those skills of critical analysis which would help the Committee to develop greater policy-making capacity. This was not idle intellectual conversation; the Development Committee was at the time trying to articulate its vision and mission, and we hoped that the research would offer people an opportunity to think more critically about what we were doing and why. However, the group itself had difficulty in engaging with the questions. Trying to involve the Development Committee in the research process identified a gap in the capacity of the Committee to discuss policy issues, a learning outcome which will be addressed over time through additional training and input. In that sense, as Heron argued, the research outcome did also become the researcher outcome, even at that peripheral level of engagement.

One of the lessons learned can be summarised in Bradbury and Lichtenstein’s argument that there is a interconnected relational reality underpinning organisational phenomena (Bradbury and Lichtenstein, 2000). It became clear to me, in the course of the first cycle, that the question of the impact of government on the organisation transcended the ComDev Program and that we needed to include the Coordinator of the E&CS Program in future discussions. We agreed to invite Carolyn to take part in future discussions and to be a part of the research in the second cycle; she was happy to be included although, as with the others, her travel schedule meant that she was not actually in the office for much of the time.

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Research cycle 2: May-August 2004 (see also chapter seven) The key focus of the second cycle was on understanding what it meant for the organisation to hold two theoretical paradigms, of evangelism and development, together in one agency. ABM is unique among accredited denominational agencies in attempting to hold development within an explicit mission framework; most churches had established separate organisations for the purposes of Christian mission, or development and relief. It seemed important, therefore, to explore more fully how the two Programs, E&CS and ComDev, operated individually and as part of the larger ABM. Carolyn and I met for coffee, and I began to see her perspective on the organisation and on the relation between the two Programs. Carolyn was travelling for much of the second cycle, and out of the office a great deal of the time, so in reality her participation was limited. She did, however, attend the group reflection in August.

During this cycle the tasks were to understand the nature of ABM’s mission and to analyse the place of development within that identity as well as the philosophy underpinning it. In each cycle, other team members’ ‘tasks’ involved their own work roles and activities; it was the experience gained through their daily engagement within the organisation and with our partners which they contributed to the research. The insights and ideas which they brought to the table in discussion and reflection were those borne from their interactions with other staff, government stakeholders or church supporters, volunteers, and members of partner churches.

Our reflection meeting in August was fruitful; in retrospect it stands out as a pivotal point in the research. We met in the boardroom and sat around the long table, five of us with plenty of space in between. Without consciously planning it Carolyn and Geoff sat on one side of the table, John and Sophie and I on the

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other. There was an automatic ‘divide’ between the two Programs in our very siting of ourselves around the table. I had prepared a paper outlining emergent themes (an expansion of the previous five identified in the first cycle), and presented to the group my perception of the most important issues. Geoff and Carolyn contested much of what I presented. I felt that while the three of us from the ComDev Program had a shared understanding I had not communicated it well to Geoff and Carolyn, and felt uncomfortable with what appeared to be differences in perspectives on the organisation.

However, two significant moments within this discussion prompted a new level of learning as we explored the relation between the two Programs. The first was when Geoff asked John to describe the difference between the two ‘models’ which he perceived were operating within the organisation. Discussion of these confronted the group with the need to move beyond rigid conceptions of either Program. The second pivotal point came when Carolyn introduced the concept of ‘polarity management’ (Johnson, 1996). Polarity management is Johnson’s name for the movement within organisations from one end of an operational spectrum to another: from authoritarian to laissez-faire management, for instance, or from team-work to individual performance. Johnson’s theory is that these ‘polarities’ must be managed rather than resolved, since an organisation will need aspects of each polarity in order to remain healthy. This approach to organisational problems provided a new language for discussing difference within the organisation. It offered a new model for conceptualising evangelism and development, as ends of a spectrum of forms of Christian mission. The conversation was the first in which the staff of the two Programs had actually sat down to discuss differences, and led to a question regarding how the organisation might create space for both polarities to co-exist. This became the question for the third cycle: how do we make the space to breathe? That is, how do we make

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space in which each Program can expand and grow without crowding out the other?

This became the ‘aha’ moment of the second cycle. It was notable that although the meeting had begun with points of disagreement, at the end of the meeting everyone had agreed that the central task of the organisation was to discover ways of allowing both Programs to flourish, affirming the importance of holding the two together philosophically and theologically.

The Development Committee meeting at the end of the second cycle focussed on effectiveness; the discussion was more lively at this meeting, as people were becoming more comfortable with a structured period of time in the agenda to address ideas relating to policy and practice. The research process appeared to be offering an opportunity for group formation as well as learning. The question, how do we know we’re effective?, which emerged from the group, fit in well with the questions of identity and purpose which had already emerged from our inquiry.

Together, these questions lead to a broader question of accountability, of ensuring the integrity of our actions, values and principles as we negotiate our responsibilities to the Anglican Church of Australia and to the Australian Government and the aid sector. The question for the third cycle, how do we make space to breathe?, can be alternatively conceptualised as: how does ABM hold in balance its concept of holistic mission?

Research cycle 3: September-December 2004 (see also chapter eight) The third cycle was dominated by the accreditation review which took place between October and December. Much of September was taken up with the preparation of documents for the review; not only ensuring that papers in the

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office were readily accessible, but that policies and processes for decision-making were transparent and documented. John continued to travel, and I assisted John and Sophie in ordering the documentation within the ComDev office. The activities of the period were observation and analysis of organisational dynamics, writing and assimilating information, and policy analysis.

This inquiry period was influenced by the question of whether the development sector itself was a benefit to the recipients of aid. As a result of my own reading I began to question the very fundamental assumptions of the global aid and development sector. As a group we began to examine the ways in which NGOs themselves may seek sustainability of aid for their own benefit as much as for the poor of the world. At its most crass, the challenge might be made: for Western NGOs to serve the poor, there need to be poor people to serve. (See also the literature review regarding the growth of the aid industry in chapter two, and the discussion in chapter ten.) In seeking accreditation and in preparing for the organisational growth which would follow a successful assessment, we asked ourselves, how do we ensure that this growth benefits our partners rather than ourselves? The notions of fidelity to our Christian values and to the mandate from the church, as well as the fiduciary responsibilities required of an accredited NGO, provided the foundation for affirming that our Anglican mission identity and heritage hold us to a level of moral accountability to ensure that we are not simply seeking growth because it is available, but because it is an opportunity to assist our partners to address their own needs and to respond to the Biblical call to redress injustice and oppression.

The tenor of the third cycle was affected by two announcements which came close by one another towards the end of the four-month period. The first was the result of the AusAID accreditation review; the reviewers had assessed the operations of the office and recommended that the review proceed to the next

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phase, the overseas review visit. There was a tangible sense of relief in the air after the reviewers left; the staff met in the boardroom with wine and refreshments and a sense of joy and camaraderie pervaded the organisation. That was contrasted, one week later, with the announcement that Geoff was leaving ABM to become the priest of a church in Queensland. The announcement was made the day before our reflection meeting in November, and the mood of that meeting was flat by contrast with our August gathering. At this meeting, however, we were able to discuss ways of affirming our holistic approach across both Programs, and to explore opportunities for the organisation to continue the reflective learning process following the completion of the research.

There was no particular ‘aha’ moment within this cycle, partially because of the announcement of Geoff’s resignation. The catalyst for what I experienced as the uncomfortable period of ‘immersion’ within the inquiry cycle was my reading of Dichter’s book and the questions it raised regarding the validity of international development. On the other hand, the successful accreditation assessment in October brought about a collective sense of euphoria, and these two feelings – one of discomfort, the other of pride in our success as a development agency – seemed to co-exist side by side throughout the final weeks of the research.

The research concluded one week later with the final quarterly Development Committee meeting of the year. Because of the change heralded by Geoff’s resignation, and the strategic planning process which had been scheduled for part of the meeting, we did not open the meeting up for discussion, but simply provided feedback to the Committee regarding the process and what had been learned. Several questions were posed for the Committee to consider as a way of seeding ideas which might be explored during 2005 as the group continued its work together.

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The organisation was entering a period of transition as the research closed. I could hear this in conversation with people, through comments such as “that’ll have to wait for the new National Director”, or “it will be up to the new National Director”. I wrote in my fieldnotes: “There’s an air of waiting, not indecisiveness but just less forwardness. A bit of a holding pattern...” This dynamic within the office meant that the research conclusions were also not as defined; they were, by the nature of the new environment, also in a bit of a holding pattern. It would be up to the staff to decide how and when to move forward with regard to taking forward the ideas which had emerged from the research.

The fieldwork had covered a period of a year in the life of an organisation which had already seen 154 years, and illustrated a process of organisational learning within a small NGO. While the period of fieldwork came to an end, the organisational learning of the staff who participated and myself as a volunteer did not, and in fact the research felt open-ended at its conclusion because the questions which we raised were ones which the staff would have to continue to live with and work through. However, the outcomes of the year’s research were not only ideas, insights and skills which will remain within the organisation and contribute to the dynamic of the team in the work we continue to undertake together. Other tangible outcomes include changes in the way senior staff communicate across programs, a more unified approach to promotion of the agency including both programs, increased joint planning among senior staff, and strategic and philosophical/theological development undertaken by the Board.

Sense-making The primary sources of data were my extensive fieldnotes, captured in three A4 notebooks, and transcriptions of the reflection conversations. All in all there were over 700 pages of data, including notes from conversations, my own observations,

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handwritten notes and transcipts of meetings and agreements, and notes from written sources such as organisational files, archived material, and historical records. The group meetings, which were tape-recorded and transcribed, formed the primary analysis of the inquiry, in that we were collectively making sense of our experiences and responses to the questions. A secondary analysis, or sense- making exercise, was undertaken following each cycle of the research, as I gathered and constructed the patterns of ideas which form this thesis. These two stages correspond to what Heron calls ‘primary’ or ‘empathic-imaginal’, and ‘secondary’ or ‘linguistic-conceptual’ meaning: primary meaning being one’s own lived experience, and secondary meaning being one’s articulation of that experience (Heron, 1996:178). Primary meaning is constructed through the very act of experience and existence, in the ways in which we consciously and unconsciously act upon and respond to the world around us (Heron, 1996). It is process-oriented, in that the primary experience is not static but ever evolving, and leads ineluctably to the formation of secondary meaning. Secondary meaning is primary meaning “symbolised by human constructs” (Heron, 1996:179), both verbal and non-verbal, made tangible through language, skills, and social structures (:180). Transformative cooperative inquiry exhibits all of these forms (:180).

Primary meaning, therefore, is implicit within these pages, as the inexpressible wealth of experience, emotion, insight, and idea which inform the person the researcher has become, while secondary meaning is explicit in the very act of presenting a thesis. Secondary meaning is explicit within the organisation to the extent that individual and group learning is articulated through action, language, and structure, while primary meaning remains within the minds and hearts of those who participated in the learning process. It adds another layer to the ‘reflection-in-action’ (Schon, 1991) which occurs on a daily basis as people make sense of the world around them.

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Overlaying the learning cycle of the inquiry onto Heron’s (1996) matrix of the four types of knowledge (presentational, propositional, practical and experiential), the diagram on the next page demonstrates the stages of the research as it moved through the four forms of belief to a deeper understanding of the role of faith- based agencies in international development. This diagram depicts a spiral from a general starting point (point 1 in the upper-left quadrant) to a deeper understanding regarding a specific aspect of ABM’s identity (point 13, also in the upper-left quadrant). It provides a map of the research process, one in which the researchers entered more deeply into the topic in search of greater insight and new understanding, from the first presentational belief in the preparation phase (point 1) to the propositional knowledge presented in this thesis (point 14 in the upper- right quadrant).

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Presentational Propositional

1. FBNGOs make positive contribution to 2. FBNGOs are influenced by gov’t policy, international development. (Dec. 2003) and can influence aid sector.

5. ComDev program is based on a 6. ABM’s ‘holistic mission’ holds mission paradigm. (April 2004) together two models of mission.

9. Managing polarities essential for 10. ABM accountable to multiple maintaining identity of ABM. constituencies - government, (Aug.2004) church, and partners.

13. Balancing intentions 14. Legitimacy of faith-based essential for strategic focus. NGO dependent upon its (Dec 2004) accountability in relationship.

12. Affirming holistic 11.Articulating policy and mission. assessing practice for accreditation review.

8. Understanding polarities of 7. Philosophical study of evangelism and development. mission and development.

4. Exploring Christian roots of development sector. 3. Archival/historical study of ABM. Experiential Practical

Diagram 5.3 customised from Heron 1996:56 Map of the research stages

Each cycle through the four quadrants (points 2-5, 6-9, 10-13) describes one research cycle and its movement through the phases of presentational, propositional, practical and experiential learning. In each of these phases, beliefs were contested (those propositional statements with which each cycle began), insights developed by the co-researchers, skills improved both within myself as

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the doctoral researcher and within the team as we reflected together, and changes in praxis identified.

In my fieldnotes, I attempted to consider my own position as researcher, setting aside time periodically to analyse reflexively the ways in which I myself was influencing the process of the research. I also sought at times, in conversation with John and Sophie, to ensure that I was feeding back to them their own views rather than my own. In this way, as the primary researcher I did try to ensure that the themes which were emerging were ones which we had discovered collectively, rather than ones which I was imposing. I believe that this did enhance the validity of the data. There were times, for instance, when I proposed a summary which I believed was what I had heard from my colleagues, only to have them re-interpret my statements in a new way. There was another time, when John and I were discussing future ideas for the Community Development Program, when John reminded me that I shouldn’t be afraid to put forward my own view since I too was a part of both the organisation and the research. In this way, all of us challenged others in the team during the course of the inquiry.

The themes were analysed by the group during our quarterly reflection meetings. Through our group reflections and discussions, ideas were challenged and honed, my observations were critiqued and considered, and together we moved towards a consensus understanding of what had been learned in the course of an inquiry cycle. The structure of the process in each case, again due to the constraints of staff travel and my doctoral research requirements, was that I would synthesise my observations, field notes, and summaries of conversations and events into a few key themes or ideas. These would provide the focus of our reflective conversations, and jointly we would work through the ideas. It became quite apparent that some themes, which had initially appeared quite prominent, in discussion proved to be of no particular interest or priority to the research. An

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example of this was an early focus on the work of ABM with the Anglican Church in Papua New Guinea, which we had expected to be a key focus of the research. Within the first cycle, it had been displaced in our minds by the prominence of the nature of the organisation’s identity as a mission agency. Others, such as notions of mission, which had seemed to be background issues, moved to the forefront as the group members met and discussed, sometimes disagreeing and challenging one another.

This collective analysis formed the main method of analysing data which emerged during the fieldwork. The activity of group reflection forms the major analytical process of cooperative inquiry, and were this simply an organisational learning process it would have been sufficient for the staff to have participated in this and to have synthesised their learning in this way. As a piece of doctoral research, however, I added an additional layer of analysis using a thematic analysis of my fieldnotes, which were examined and sifted concurrently throughout the year as a basis for providing ideas to the group, and re-examined after the fieldwork as a way of triangulating the outcomes of the inquiry cycle. I undertook this analysis manually, using an informal content analysis which identified key themes, coded them, and sorted them according to theme. These themes were roughly concurrent with the themes which had emerged through the inquiry and reflection process. After I began this process it soon became clear that the collective reflection had itself identified and moved forward the main themes of the research, and the content analysis was not identifying anything new. The content analysis then became an additional sifting of ideas and data for the thesis, a separate process from the inquiry cycle itself.

Heron (1996:152) suggests that authentic collaboration is predicated upon trust between group members, including the initiating researcher. The trust between the initial small group had already begun to develop before the research began:

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John and I had discovered a common perspective on community development and organisational development during an earlier strategic planning process within ABM in 1998/99. Sophie had worked with John for several years and there was a close relationship between the two. Geoff had led the organisation for several years, knew all the participants well, and was willing to trust both the people and the process. Carolyn, as the Coordinator of the other Program within the organisation, joined the group in the middle of the process; while a staff member of ABM she was not involved in the ComDev Program and, indeed, as Coordinator of the other Program her inclusion brought into the discussion some of the tensions which were felt between the two Programs. For that reason, her inclusion was even more important in providing a divergent perspective, and her contribution added greatly to the dimensions of the research.

The material presented here is filtered through my own lens as a qualitative researcher. That perspective has been formed by my life trajectory and the unique characteristics that I bring to my view of the world. As such, my presentation of the material is informed by my seven-year involvement with the organisation, my 10-year involvement with the Anglican Church of Australia, my professional background in health administration and academic public health, my gender, my experiences as an expatriate in England and Australia, and finally my status as an American-born, naturalised Australian. During the research I was both an insider within ABM as a volunteer and an outsider because I was not staff. This is true, to some extent, to my place within the Anglican Church of Australia and Australian society itself – an insider by virtue of the place I have created for myself here, an outsider by virtue of my cultural upbringing in another country. These perspectives inform my sifting of the experience of fieldwork within ABM and my sense-making in the articulation of the research. The backgrounds, experiences and insights of my co-researchers likewise influence their own sense- making processes.

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As part of the co-construction of the reality presented here, all participants were offered the opportunity to read and comment upon this and the next three chapters, and to contribute their own perspective in response. This exercise served two purposes: to provide additional trustworthiness to the data, and to honour, within the constraints of a doctoral thesis, the cooperative nature of the work undertaken together. Their voices are present throughout the next three chapters, but each colleague provides additional insights in chapter nine.

Summary It is important to note that there were two levels of outcome for this project. The first was the organisational learning which took place as a result of intensive and sustained reflection over the course of the year; although intimated in these pages, much of that remains as ‘primary meaning’, that is, with the people of the organisation who have incorporated their experience and perceptions into their own work, individually and collectively. The second outcome is the ‘secondary meaning’, articulated in this thesis, which necessarily includes an objectification of the primary experience of all the participants, including myself, as I present our experience to the scrutiny of external readers, each of whom will interpret it with their own lenses of perception, background, and experience. The primary and secondary meanings, combined, have led to changed praxis within the organisation and an articulated learning which has included greater attention to unifying operational activities, improving communication mechanisms, and increased philosophical and theological reflection amongst the Board.

The research evolved from an exploration of the growing relationship between AusAID and faith-based agencies to a single organisational inquiry using a participatory research paradigm. The research questions were cooperatively

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generated, with each of the three cycles of inquiry raising additional questions. The focus of each cycle is discussed in each of the next three chapters.

Key points:

• The cooperative inquiry process involved all participants at all stages of the research; the five participants each engaged with the research to the extent that they were able over the course of the year’s fieldwork. • Each of the three research cycles generated its own focus and out of each emerged a new insight and heightened group understanding. • The sense-making (validity) process was conducted throughout the year as part of the reflective research stages. • As part of the doctoral research, I engaged in both reflexive exercises within my journal and conducted an additional level of content analysis for data and fieldnotes. • The trustworthiness of the data is strengthened not only through the cooperative process, but through the interaction of the other participants with the presentation of the material in this thesis.

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Chapter Six: Relations between NGO and government

[ABM] staff maintain that the growth of relations with AIDAB has had a profound impact upon the Mission – an impact extending far beyond the provision of funding. (Rugendyke and Zivetz, 1991:157)

I think the watershed was actually our first accreditation with AusAID [in 1998]...that was quite critical because I think that suddenly the CEO, the Development Committee, the Standing Committee, it all suddenly filtered through [to them] that there’s actually more to this than we really understood. (John, 28th April 2004)

Introduction The question posed for the first cycle of research was the primary research question: how is a faith-based NGO influenced by its relationship with government and the international development sector? The answer, briefly, is that the influence is significant on all aspects of the organisation, including its articulation of its own purpose.

As a result of its decisions to become a member of ACFID, to become a signatory to ACFID’s Code of Conduct, and to seek accreditation from AusAID, ABM has had to define itself not only to its traditional constituency of Church membership, but to a wider audience. This has meant positioning itself not only as an agency of the Anglican Church of Australia, but as a faith-based NGO within the aid sector. It has been required to separate both structurally and philosophically its evangelistic activities from those defined as development. Most significantly, this separation has required a careful balancing act within the organisation, as the development side of the organisation has access to different avenues and potentially greater amounts of funding than the church support side of the

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organisation. Indeed, the Community Development Program is poised to grow exponentially as a result of the Church Partnership Program and the receipt of full accreditation status in 2005 from AusAID. This creates a tension for the organisation, which sees both sides of the organisation as complementary components of ‘holistic mission’ and therefore is trying to hold the two as equal and balanced halves. In the course of the year of fieldwork, it became clear that this balance would only be achieved at the cost of holding the Community Development Program back from growing at the rate at which it is poised to grow. The relationship with government, therefore, poses a challenge to the organisation’s understanding of ‘holistic mission’, by providing an opportunity for considerable growth to only one side of the organisation. While not an insurmountable challenge, in the words of the then National Director, Geoff: “we need to manage the tension, by good communication and relationships, because it would be possible for us to blow apart, actually quite easily, because of the way the organisation is structured, and also the tension that in a sense is between the two models.”

This chapter will analyse the nature of this challenge to the organisation, by exploring firstly, the organisation’s historic (and evolving) understanding of itself and secondly, the ways it has been required to articulate its values and principles as a Christian mission agency working within the Australian aid sector. ABM has had to define itself in larger terms than Anglican outreach alone, while maintaining its Anglican constituency and its identity as the mission agency of the Anglican Church of Australia.

Understanding community development activities within ABM What is now known as the Anglican Board of Mission began life in 1850 as the Australasian Board of Missions, created at the first conference of Bishops in Australia. There were at the time three bishops in Australia, sent out from

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England as missionary bishops of the Church of England to its Australian colony. At the 1850 conference there was also in attendance another English missionary bishop, Bishop Selwyn of New Zealand; the Diocese of New Zealand had been created as a separate entity from the Diocese of Australia in the 1840s (Hilliard, 1978). ABM is thus one of the oldest non-governmental organisations in Australia, and was the first missionary agency of the Church of England in Australia to support missions overseas as well as in Australia (Rugendyke, 1994:150). From 1850 to 1872 the Board consisted only of the Bishops of the Church of Australia, who provided sums of money for mission work within Australia to the indigenous peoples, and to the Church in New Zealand for mission in Melanesia. In 1872 the first General Synod of the Church of England in Australia was held, and at that time the Australian Board of Missions was constituted as a Board of the Synod. The stated aim of the Board of Missions was to: promote the Mission work of the Church among the Aborigines in Australia, New Guinea and in the Islands adjacent, and also among the various immigrant heathen races; to assist in carrying out the Missions established by the Church of England through her Missionary Societies; to co-operate in supporting the Melanesian Mission and other Missions to the Heathen, especially in Australia; to seek out, train, and support Missionaries to labour in such Missions as the Board may direct or may originate; and generally to further unity of effort in the Missions of the Church. (quoted in Anglican Board of Mission, 1900)

ABM was thus mandated to carry out the Church of England’s vision of mission, as well as to unify diverse mission efforts already in place. The primary overseas mission was that to Melanesia, one of the reasons for ABM’s founding25, and continues today in links with the Anglican Church in the Solomon Islands, which is called the Church of Melanesia. The original mandate soon expanded to

25 One of the first activities of the Board was to raise money for Bishop Selwyn of New Zealand for a boat to travel the Melanesian Islands. A ship was purchased and named the ‘Southern Cross’, and a successor to this ship, retaining the title ‘Southern Cross’, is still in use by the Church of Melanesia.

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include a concern for the poor conditions of the urban Chinese immigrant populations in Sydney, Melbourne, and Brisbane. In 1882 the first Aboriginal mission station was established, and in 1891 the New Guinea Mission began. In 1913 Australian Anglicans went as missionaries to Japan and China, and in 1915 the London Missionary Society turned over its work in the Torres Strait to ABM. From 1918 funding was provided to the Church in Jerusalem, and in 1950 ABM began to support the Dioceses of Singapore and Borneo. In 1960 ABM began to support the Church in Korea, in the 1980s a relationship with Myanmar was established, and in 1994 ABM began to support development projects within the Episcopal Church of the Philippines. At various times in the 20th century, ABM also supported mission work in Fiji, Cambodia, Bangladesh and parts of Africa.

Key historical events of the Anglican Board of Mission Date Australian Board of Missions founded in Sydney 1850 ABM incorporated structurally into the new General Synod of the 1872 Church of England in Australia First Aboriginal mission station established 1882 First missionaries sent to Papua New Guinea 1891 Missionaries sent to Japan and China 1913 ABM took over British missionary work in the Torres Strait 1915 Funding began for the Anglican Church in Jerusalem 1918 12 ABM missionaries killed by the Japanese, the “New Guinea 1942 Martyrs” ABM began partnerships with Dioceses of Singapore and Borneo 1950 ABM began to support Anglican Church in Korea 1960 Partnership developed with Anglican Church in Burma (Myanmar) 1980s ABM became associate member of ACFOA (ACFID) 1987 Partnership developed with Episcopal Church of the Philippines 1994 ABM changes name to Anglican Board of Mission 1995 ABM signed ACFID Code of Conduct 1996 ABM applied for and received base accreditation with AusAID 1998 ABM restructured its organisation, centralising to Sydney office 2000 ABM applied for and received full accreditation with AusAID 2005 Table 5 Key dates in ABM history

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In the 1980s, ABM began to take advantage of the Australian Government’s support for non-governmental agencies providing aid to developing countries, and received funding from 1982 from the Australian International Development Aid Bureau (AIDAB)26 (Nichols, 1997:2). The first development project was an animal-raising project in Korea (Rugendyke and Zivetz, 1991). In 1987 the Anglican Trust Fund for Development was established by ABM in order to separate development funding from funds used for other purposes. ABM signed the ACFID Code of Conduct in 1996, thus identifying itself as an organisation within the Australian aid sector.

In 1998, ABM first applied to AusAID for accreditation as a development agency, and was granted base-level accreditation. Base level accreditation by AusAID requires standards of administrative and financial accountability, which are not as rigorous as those required for full accreditation; the amount of funding which a base-accredited NGO is able to receive is commensurately lower. The Nichols review in 1997, commissioned by ABM to assist it in preparing for accreditation, pointed out the difficulties for the agency of achieving the standards required for full accreditation, and gave recommendations as to how the agency might work towards this goal. Because of its essential nature as a Christian mission agency, ABM had to meet a considerable structural challenge of separating administrative, financial and project systems between church support and development activities to demonstrate the separation of government monies from any activities which might be construed as proselytising. Over the next seven years, as the organisation went through a fairly prolonged restructure, it attempted to improve its organisational accountability and effectiveness in order to reach the standards expected of a non-governmental development organisation as outlined by AusAID and ACFID. In 2004, ABM applied for full accreditation by AusAID, which was awarded in 2005.

26 AIDAB was the precursor to the Australian Agency for International Development (AusAID).

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The re-structuring of ABM in 2000 created a clearly defined separation of Christian ministry projects from those development projects receiving government funding. Two Programs were established which operate autonomously within the organisation. The Evangelism & Church Support Program (E&CS) supports projects which are conducted by partner churches for the purpose of building up Christian community life: these include such diverse activities as support for theological colleges for indigenous Christians in Queensland and the Northern Territory; assistance with the development of Sunday School material for children in the Philippines; and resources for churches in Egypt to address the needs of refugees. The Community Development Program undertakes projects which benefit the whole community, and works with partner churches to provide funding for activities which contribute to water security, HIV/AIDS education, and health services.

At the time of the research, the ABM Community Development Program (ComDev) comprised one full-time staff member, John Deane, and one 4/5-time staff member, Sophie Davies. The Program was overseen by a subcommittee of the Board, the Development Committee, which consisted of nine members, four of whom were Board members. The Development Committee was delegated by the Board to have oversight of ComDev, thus formally separating the governance of the Program from that of the rest of the organisation. Communication between the Committee and the Board was maintained through the presence of Board members on the Development Committee, and through the National Director (see Appendix Two for organisational charts).

During the period of research, the ComDev Program was active in four countries: Papua New Guinea, the Philippines, the Solomon Islands, and Myanmar. Until 2001, Community Development was primarily concerned with projects in the

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Philippines and Myanmar, supporting water, microfinance, and small cooperative and agricultural projects. Health and education were considered to be part of church support activities, as they had been traditionally undertaken as part of missionary endeavours. In 2001, health and education projects were transferred into the ComDev portfolio of responsibilities, which had the effect of adding a significant workload to the Program due to the large health and education programs supported by ABM within the Anglican Church in Papua New Guinea. This also had structural implications for the partner church in that country, the Anglican Church of Papua New Guinea, in terms of additional reporting requirements in order to satisfy AusAID standards of accountability. Previous health and education activities, when understood as mission, were more loosely defined and the projects for which money was provided were not monitored in the same way.

ABM has an historic mission relationship with the Church of Melanesia, the Anglican Church of the Solomon Islands (Hilliard, 1978). However, in the 1990s ABM stopped working with this partner because of problems which had arisen in terms of accountability and reporting. The current ComDev work in the Solomon Islands did not begin until 2004 and was seen as a re-engagement with the historic partner; a joint program was designed by ABM and Anglicans Cooperating on Overseas Relief and Development (AngliCORD, a development fund established by the Anglican Diocese of Melbourne) in collaboration with the Church of Melanesia and funded by AusAID. The Inclusive Communities Project provides training to enhance community decision-making and conflict resolution. As a result of this re-engagement with the Church of Melanesia several new projects were added to ABM’s project list for 2005.

In 2004, ComDev supported 49 separate projects in four countries; these ranged from one-year projects, such as a youth life-skills project through the Church of

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Melanesia; two-year projects, such as a goat-raising project in Myanmar; and three-year projects, such as support for the STOPAIDS Program in Papua New Guinea. Not all of these 49 projects received matching funds from AusAID; many were supported in part, or entirely, by Anglican congregations in Australia who commit to fund a particular project for one year or more. Anglican churches throughout Australia receive a Project Book at the end of each year with a complete list of all the projects proposed by both E&CS and ComDev for the coming year (110 in 2005). Individuals and church congregations are encouraged to commit to supporting a particular project. Supporters also have the alternative of donating uncommitted funds to the organisation, which are then deposited into a general fund. Tax deductibility is available to individuals for the ComDev projects and for a few of the E&CS projects (those which support indigenous institutions which themselves receive tax deductibility).

The mission heritage As stated above, the original name of ABM was the Australasian Board of Missions, which by the early 20th century had become the Australian Board of Missions. In 19th century missiological terms, ‘missions’ referred to the multiplicity of efforts to bring the Gospel to various parts of the world, eg: a mission to Africa, a mission to China, a mission to the Aboriginal people of Australia, and so on, much in the way the word is used in other contexts today, that is from the Latin ‘mittere’: to send. The title of the organisation reflected its understanding of itself as the sending agency of the Church of England in Australia. In 1995, reflecting the changes within Australian society, and in recognition that the Anglican Church of Australia no longer had the hegemonic status of the 19th century Church of England in Australia, the organisation changed its name to the Anglican Board of Mission. The loss of the final ‘s’ is a small but significant change, denoting an evolution in 20th century theological notions of Christian mission, and in the organisation’s own understanding of mission. The work of the organisation is now seen as one work – the missio dei,

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or God’s mission to the world – rather than a multiplicity of efforts (missions) undertaken by the Church. This is in line with contemporary theological thinking which evolved, in the mid-20th century, from conceptualising missionary endeavours as the work of the Church to defining mission as part of the larger work of God in which people, and the Church, participate (Bosch, 1991, Thomas, 2003). In the words of Bosch (1991:370), “the church changes from being the sender to being the one sent.” Mission is now understood as the vocation of every Christian, to participate in God’s outpouring of love to the world through witness and action.

At the beginning of our inquiry in 2004, therefore, ABM was an organisation with a long history. This history was characterised by two paradigms of mission. The first was that of the colonial Church of England (and later of the Anglican Church of Australia), particularly in relation to Papua New Guinea, by which the Church participated in, and also tried to mitigate the excesses of, European colonial and cultural expansion27. The second and current paradigm is that of a partner in mission28, working collaboratively with the indigenous Anglican Church in other countries, as well as in partnership with indigenous communities in Australia. It is a history which is consistent with the movement of churches worldwide towards a more active engagement in the 20th century with the notion of development rather than charity, and towards partnership rather than imperialism (Bosch, 1991). Although ABM will on occasion, at the request of the partner church, send an Australian to fulfil a role overseas for a limited period of time, the organisation’s policy is to support local people in ministry and development, rather than expatriate Australians: for instance, providing financial or resource

27As Newbigin wrote: “For 400 years the major thrust of Christian missions – Catholic and Protestant – has been bound up with the expanding economic and political power of Europe and North America.” Newbigin, L. 1989, 'Mission in the 1990s', International Bulletin of Missionary Research, vol. 13, no. 3, pp. 100-102. 28 Partners in Mission was a concept of mission promoted by the international Anglican Mission Council (MISSIO) in the 1970s and 1980s. see http://www.anglicancommunion.org/mission/resources.

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support for indigenous church leaders in ministry in Australia, for PNG youth workers, or for the Melanesian Brothers in the Solomon Islands. In the Community Development Program, this means supporting local communities in such things as the building of water and sanitation systems in PNG or harvest facilities for villages in Mindanao.

Defining ABM as a development agency Since its founding ABM has been engaged in activities – health, education, agriculture - which are now called ‘development’. The gradual separation of development activities from the activities of church building was initiated by an opportunity to gain funding from government, and was not initiated by a change in theological understanding. Philosophically, therefore, the organisation has been slow to articulate why there are two Programs within the one organisation. In reflecting on the organisation’s history and its recent structural separation of church building from development activities, Geoff suggested that one of the dangers of separating development from ‘mission’ (as in creating two separate agencies) is that it removes from the church what have traditionally been church activities, such as health and education, leaving the church with only activities within the church itself: “the church needs to be looking outside itself” (Geoff). Community development activities are part of the life of the Church, caring for its own people but also for all people regardless of who they are. That is why development activities are also part of the understanding of what ABM calls ‘holistic mission’, caring for the whole person and community in all aspects of life. Development, in ABM’s view, is an expression of Christian values; it is a way of responding to the Biblical injunction to seek justice and care for the poor (cf Micah 6:8; Is. 59:6-7; Matt.25:34-36). It is a radical, and political, response to the structural injustice of the world by seeking to strengthen disempowered communities, and to share the wealth of a developed country like Australia with those who have less. As John stated some time later, “what you’re talking about

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is re-defining mission so that it is able to embrace two different, on occasion divergent, models, so that our understanding of mission is big enough [to include both evangelism and development]”. The concept of holistic mission will be discussed in more detail in chapter seven.

The need to articulate clearly its theological understanding of development as well as the organisation’s values and purpose in undertaking development work was a prominent theme in the first inquiry. A catalyst for this focus was a book entitled Doing Good (Zivetz and others, 1991) which included a chapter on the Australian Board of Missions, as it was then named. This book examined the Australian NGO sector in the early 1990s, and included profiles of a number of agencies including ABM. It noted that ABM had a “poor image as a development agency amongst the other NGOs” (Rugendyke and Zivetz, 1991:155). Part of the problem for ABM, identified by Rugendyke in more detail in her doctoral thesis (Rugendyke, 1994) which analysed a number of diverse Australian NGOs, was the transition between a traditional mission agency and the role of a development agency. Rugendyke noted that, in 1989, ABM had no clearly articulated development theory, nor had it extended its theological understanding of mission to include development in an intellectually coherent way. ABM was described in Rugendyke’s thesis as “unsure” of its philosophy (:222), “non-participatory and non-democratic” (:223), “neither innovative nor flexible” in its development work (:223), without professional development staff, relying on unclear parameters within partner churches, and unable to articulate clearly its purpose to its constituents.

Some of these criticisms were echoed in the Systems Review (Nichols, 1997) undertaken in 1997. Nichols (1997) also noted that there was no clearly articulated development philosophy, and that there was confusion between activities which at the time were called ‘partnership’, and what was considered

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‘development’. The word ‘partnership’ was also used to describe ABM’s relationships, whether in church support or community development activities, although at the same time the relationship was primarily one of a donor-recipient rather than that of true partners. Pointing out that “there is a major language and translation problem, particularly in relation to AusAID, but also in relation to the public (Church) about the actual work and priorities of ABM”, the review went on to suggest that: There are major opportunities for ABM to have significant influence and impact in the National debate on aid and development, and to contribute to the public’s and Church’s thinking on these issues through a set of goals and setting aside resources to re-position itself clearly. This would require a clearer articulation of goals and strategies, understood by staff, Standing Committee, Board, and General Synod (Nichols, 1997:9).

In the end, the decision to re-position itself was forced upon ABM as it faced a financial crisis at the end of the 1990s. In 2000, after 150 years, it was necessary to respond creatively to the changing patterns of charitable donations in Australia, and to define the organisation in ways which were more appealing to a 21st century audience. As a result, although ABM was already in the process of defining its position as a development agency, it was catapulted into considerable change at the turn of the century, undergoing a significant restructure from Board level to volunteer level. From being a wholly-owned mission arm of the Anglican Church, within five years of the restructure ABM had become a separately incorporated, government-accredited agency, functioning with a centralised infrastructure and national and international industry networks. It retains its structural ties to the Anglican Church by being formally a Board of the General Synod; it reports to the General Synod of the Church, and six of the Board’s ten appointed positions are made by the General Synod Standing Committee. Within the restructure, the single biggest impact of the relationship with government was the decision of the organisation to split the work of the agency into two autonomous Programs, Evangelism & Church Support, and Community

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Development, in order to ensure transparent administrative separation between activities.

ABM is the only denominational agency in Australia to hold both evangelism and international development activities within a single agency; other Christian church development agencies, such as Caritas, Baptist World Aid Australia, Australian Lutheran World Service, or Quaker Service Australia all work exclusively on development activities, although within a Christian framework, and do not engage in church-building or support activities. There are also evangelical agencies which do not do development work (the Church Missionary Society, which is Anglican in origin, is an example of this29). Non- denominational Christian agencies, such as World Vision Australia and the Christian Children’s Fund, both of which are accredited with the Australian Government, also have clear delineations regarding which activities constitute development in accordance with government guidelines for funding. World Vision Australia, for instance, states that it “opposes proselytism (actively recruiting converts) or coercion of any kind” (World Vision, 2005).30

The distinction between the two ABM Programs, E&CS and ComDev, therefore, is of importance not just for the purpose of gaining accreditation, but because the holding of the two Programs within the one organisation heralds a distinct approach to development. In a Christian organisation which only undertook development work, it would be straightforward to define the work of the organisation, and why it is being undertaken. Caritas Australia, for instance, states on its website that: “Caritas Australia supports long-term development

29 The Church Missionary Society was founded in London in the 1790s; one of its early mission fields was Australia. It is a voluntary sending agency which is historically Anglican but is not structurally part of the church (see www.cms.org.au). 30 World Vision is an interesting comparison, for it has what it calls a policy of ‘holistic development’ (Bornstein, E. 2002, 'Developing faith: theologies of economic development in Zimbabwe', Journal of Religion in Africa, vol. 32, no. 1, pp. 4-31.). Like ABM, it defines its work as encompassing both evangelism and development.

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programs in impoverished communities in Africa, Asia, Latin America and the Pacific which help oppressed people to rediscover their dignity by taking greater control over their lives. Caritas Australia also gives support to community development projects in Indigenous communities in Australia” (Caritas Australia, 2005a). Caritas further states why it is doing this work: “In all of this, Caritas Australia, as the Catholic Church's agency for aid and development, gives expression to the Gospel imperative to pursue justice and to help those suffering from poverty and disadvantage” (Caritas Australia, 2005b).

ABM, as an agency undertaking both development work and church-building work, faces the task of articulating a vision which combines both types of work in one concept of ‘holistic mission’. It also faces the task of maintaining its position within the structure of the Anglican Church, and fulfilling its mandate to serve the Church as its mission agency. ABM’s mission thus states that: “ABM strives to assist our Partners develop and provide for the spiritual, social and material needs of local people amongst very diverse communities throughout the world. It also seeks to help Australian Anglicans as parishes, schools and committed individuals, realise and respond to the call for each of us to be a part of God's mission here on earth. This occurs through individual and corporate prayer, offering for service with our Partners, and financial support” (Anglican Board of Mission, 2005b). The language used in the mission statement is deliberately broad; it does not define either the organisation’s partners, the needs of the recipients, or how ABM will help. It includes the aim to assist Australian Anglicans, individually or in their various communities, to respond to God’s call but does not describe what God’s mission is understood to be, or how ABM will help people to discern the call. There is much implied in the mission statement, but nothing is clearly articulated to assist the first-time reader to gain an unambiguous understanding of who the organisation is and what it aims to do. The language of the vision statement is more obtuse in that careful reading might

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suggest that the organisation’s vision is for people to give money to ABM: “ABM would like everybody to experience the wholeness of life which God offers in Jesus Christ and to this end, support our partners as they participate in God's mission.” (Anglican Board of Mission, 2005b). The construction of these statements, the mission and the vision, provide an indication that the organisation is trying to reflect the variety in thinking within the Anglican Church’s approach to mission and is at the same time still formulating in its own collective mind a way to articulate their purpose clearly enough for a casual reader.

What is true for the organisation is also apparent within the ComDev Program. Although ABM has its own mission statement, the Community Development Program is attempting to articulate its own separate mission, partly in response to the requirements for accreditation. At a meeting of the Development Committee in January 2004, the mission statement was discussed at some length; at issue were the theological grounding of the Program (as in, some mention of what makes ABM a Christian agency), but also the inclusion of poverty reduction as a focus for the work of ComDev. With regard to the theology of development, the discussion became very abstract, with people around the table asking such questions as “what are the values of the Kingdom of God?”, “do we embody the Kingdom of God or are we a sign of the presence of the Kingdom of God?” With regard to poverty reduction, one person questioned whether that is ABM’s only or indeed the major focus. Are we not more concerned with the causes of poverty than with addressing the symptoms? It was quickly stated that ‘poverty reduction’ is a key phrase, the ‘magic words’, that AusAID needed to see articulated as a focus of our development work. The question was raised (but not answered) – ‘who are we writing this for’? The current version was slightly amended and approved for the purposes of the accreditation review, with the expectation that it would be revised during the year as ABM undertook its organisation-wide strategic planning process at the end of 2004. This is an

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example, however, of the ways in which the aid sector had influenced the organisation. Both because of the expectations of AusAID as to the intention of a development agency, and because of the requirements of the ACFID Code of Conduct as to what a development agency can not intend, writing a mission statement required some careful delineation of ABM’s mission ethos while at the same time presenting development as an activity integral to ABM’s identity as a mission agency.

The mission statement for the Community Development Program thus stands as: “ABM’s community development program works with partners throughout the world to transform the lives of individuals, communities and structures of society by reducing poverty and embodying the Kingdom of God.” The global claim of transformation without any reference to how transformation is recognised or realised make this a difficult visionary statement. It is not clear how the ComDev Program will be able to mark that it has achieved its goal, because it is not clear what marks transformation; reducing poverty in itself may not transform people’s lives, and ‘embodying the Kingdom of God’ is not defined. How will ABM, in embodying the Kingdom of God transform people’s lives, and even more ambitiously, structures of society? What does ‘embodying the Kingdom of God’ mean? This difficulty in articulating not just what we do but what we are seeking to do remains a challenge for the Community Development Program.

It is also important to remember that the aim of the government’s foreign aid program, the one under which Australian international development NGOs operate, says something very different from ABM’s stated intentions. The aim of the overseas aid program is “to advance Australia’s national interest by assisting developing countries to reduce poverty and achieve sustainable development.” (AusAID, 1998:5). The inherent differences in intention between the aid program and the mission agency, while providing commonly agreed activities (such as

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reducing poverty), necessarily lead to examination of the purpose of the activities and how their success is measured.

Values within a faith-based NGO It is plain, however, that ABM as a whole, and ComDev as a particular Program, operate on some assumed underlying principles and values. These are intrinsic values (Grondona, 2000:45), foundational principles which form a ground of consensus within ABM and its community of supporters. Looking at ABM’s activities and its public representations of itself through its own marketing and information literature, these might, at the very least, be identified as: • Love for others based upon a response to the love of God as shown through Jesus of Nazareth: an example is given of support for the indigenous ministry at Mogo, where “Boomerang Meeting Place is about believing, acting on and living out the Word of God” (Anglican Board of Mission, 2005a); • Generosity for those in need, based upon a belief in the absolute worth of each individual as a person loved by God: a project provides an allowance to theological students in PNG for essentials for their families, “Clothes on children’s back, clean laundry and a small portion of meat or fish – these simple things help maintain the students’ dignity and motivation.” (Anglican Board of Mission, 2004d) • Compassion for those who are suffering, based upon Jesus’ call to serve (ie Matt.5:7-10; John 15:12,13): the Inclusive Communities Project in the Solomon Islands focuses on women and youth participation in community decision-making and conflict resolution (Anglican Board of Mission, 2004c); and • Self-giving as a response to the self-giving of Jesus of Nazareth: in the words of the then National Director, “God’s healing and wholeness

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continue to break through, often through the selfless sacrifice of faithful Christians.” (Anglican Board of Mission, 2003b:2)

Early in the research I wrote in my fieldnotes: ABM’s development work is clearly not value-free but takes place within a missiological paradigm, however much they satisfy the government standard of separating out evangelism. The question is to what extent that missiological paradigm influences the development work and what impact it has [on service delivery].

ABM, as a mission agency, will intrinsically perceive development work in the context of Christian witness. Although it has not articulated a statement of values, either for the whole agency or for the Community Development Program, several other values may be assumed on the basis of their centrality to the Anglican tradition.

Within ABM, and within the Anglican mission tradition, the value of respect for indigenous culture has been strong. As Hilliard wrote of the early Anglican missionaries to Melanesia: “the Anglican missionaries respected the traditions of Melanesian villagers because they revered their own” (Hilliard, 1978:294). An early foundational principle, however imperfectly realised, was to establish Christian churches and turn them over to the local people to run. For this reason, both education and indigenisation31 were early components of Anglican mission (Yates, 1988). These are principles to which ABM has adhered, even today, such that within Australian indigenous communities, ABM no longer supports European Australian missionaries but will train and support indigenous Christians to become leaders in their own communities. These values of respect, self- determination, and independence have guided the work of ABM for many years, although realised in practice in different ways according to the understanding of

31 While notions of indigenisation and inculturation are contested by some feminist and Third World scholars, the term is used here as in Yates’ discussion, to reflect an historic concern within Anglicanism that the Gospel be made relevant to local cultures by local people.

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the times. Alongside this must be read the records of the actions of Anglican missionaries who joined local communities and lived as the natives did (often to the great disapproval of their fellow Englishmen (Wetherall, 1977)). For many, this led to an early death or years of illness and disability because they were poorly paid, poorly housed, and poorly fed, as were the villagers among whom they lived. Stories like those of Romney Gill (1954), who spent nearly 40 years living in a remote outpost in PNG, reinforced the notion that true mission consisted of living alongside local people and passing on knowledge (he spent years translating the Anglican prayerbook into the local language), skills (he built a small hospital and practised as much medicine as he knew), and Christian practice (as a priest he led daily worship services) for the people to make their own. Today, ABM strongly supports its partner churches to undertake their own mission and development work; in this way it acts more as a facilitator of mission than a direct deliverer of services.

Values also become apparent through discourse, and in listening to and observing the interactions within the organisation, four broad areas of discourse became apparent. These were manifest in the language people used, their responses to events or people, and the day-to-day communication with the office. The four broad areas of discourse which I identified, and the values which they implied, were: community, development, partnership, and mission.

I use the word Community to define the discourse, and lived experience, of ABM’s understanding of itself as central to the Anglican Church of Australia. In the minds of the staff, ABM represents the Anglican Church of Australia as ABM engages with other churches in Australia and overseas. ABM’s staff relate daily to both leaders and members of the church, and experiences itself as embedded within the life of the Anglican Christian community. Whether it is through the receptionist, Denise, praying with a man who comes into the office in distress, or

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John, visiting and preaching at a rural church on a Sunday, or Carolyn listening patiently to a supporter who has sent $20 and now calls to tell her how it should be spent, ABM staff are dynamically engaged within the larger community of Anglicans within Australia. Practically, this means listening to the community and trying to both influence Anglicans’ understanding of mission, and at the same time to respond to that understanding of mission. Geoff spoke to me about his efforts to identify people’s priorities for mission and then to tailor ABM’s work to respond to those priorities when possible.

Development discourse referred to the language of the aid industry, as used primarily by the staff within the Community Development Program, but also by Geoff. There were two aspects to this discourse: first a positive assumption, regarding the need for the separation of Programs and professionalisation of practices within ABM, and an implicit identification with the aid industry (sometimes in tension to that discourse of community, described above); secondly, a caution regarding the embracing of this industry. For instance, John spoke more often of ACFID and AusAID than of Anglican parishes or dioceses. There is a more formal use of bureaucratic language in the ComDev Program than the E&CS Program, where a more informal relationship bound by membership of a common Christian tradition (the discourse of community again) prevails. Geoff more often spoke of development in terms of balance. Yes, the separation and professionalisation within the organisation had provided benefits, but there needed to be a balance between the two Programs. The development sector could not be allowed to distract the agency from its true purpose of serving what is understood as God’s holistic mission.

The discourse of Partnership presented the organisation’s belief in the ideals of equality and reciprocity, and its commitment to seek true partnership with those whom we support, within indigenous Australian and overseas. It is related to the

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language of community because it identified ABM as part of a world-wide Anglican Christian community, and because it identified the church partners as brothers and sisters united in a common faith proclamation. This was within an awareness of the explicit inequality of being the donor agency within a funding relationship. Geoff and John both acknowledged that the Church in PNG is not a true partner, although there has been progress towards partnership. The Church in the Philippines (ECP), on the other hand, is more of an equal partner, with sophisticated notions of development and mission from which we can learn.

Mission discourse expressed the positive value perceived by staff of making a commitment to a religious faith tradition. It was expressed in people’s own lives of faith (not all of the staff were Anglican, or even Christian), and reinforced through daily prayers at noon in the office. Key meetings opened with prayer, the staff gathered for a communion service during staff conferences, and the language of mission and witness permeated the staff’s articulation of the work of the organisation, and its inherent value to the world.

The four key discourses permeated the organisational life of ABM in two ways: through daily interactions as staff members acted or responded in accordance with one or more of these key themes, and during our research meetings in which the values and meaning of ABM’s work were discussed. John often linked several of these together, as he sought to articulate the place of development work both within ABM and within the Christian mission tradition: the basis of community development is actually very much in the Christian tradition, it comes out of a very strong incarnational32 theology within the church. I guess the one thing has been that the focus is far more on the corporate, on the communitarian dimension, whereas traditionally or with the other mission models

32 Incarnational theology refers to the physical presence of God in the world, made visible through the life of Jesus Christ but extant today throughout the life and witness of faithful Christians. Christians believe that God is both incarnate within the world and transcendent, greater than the world.

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they tend to focus all on the individuals...I think what we’re saying you’ve got in ABM at the moment is two in a sense different models.

This comment about ‘two models’, referring to the different approaches of E&CS and ComDev, was one which occurred again and again in conversation. It was used regularly (and most often) by John as a way of distinguishing the Community Development Program from the rest of the organisation. It was a theme which permeated our early discussions about the effect of the relationship with government, namely “we now have two models of mission”. The government relationship had triggered both the organisational structure and the resulting operational challenges of managing two different Programs. Indeed, beginning the research by looking only at the Community Development Program rather than the whole organisation was an indication of a perception amongst myself and the ComDev staff that the two Programs were separate, and separated by different approaches to mission.

Values and development Receiving government funding offers both benefits and challenges to ABM. Increased funding can help the organisation to increase the support it provides to its partner churches. A closer relationship with government also provides some parameters in which NGOs can operate, and provides new opportunities for mobilising their communities and supporters. However, government policy is not fixed, and NGOs need to be aware of following policy changes too closely, or tying their own policies too tightly to the mood of the prevailing government. As Geoff noted, The shift in the government policy also influenced the way we worked okay so until 12 months ago there was no suggestion that AusAID was going to fund capacity building the way that it appears that they’re going to. So we set ourselves up and organised ourselves...and all of a sudden certain political realities in Canberra, matched with certain political realities in PNG,

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mean that all of a sudden AusAID, [whose focus] was relatively narrow, virtually all of a sudden gets a whole lot broader. One of the tensions that we have to deal with in this organisation is that there’s a whole lot of other impacts on us that don’t apply to organisations that only do development.

The ‘whole lot of other impacts’ which apply to ABM are the ways in which the organisation negotiates its activities, both internally between the Programs and externally with partners. In this instance, the E&CS Program had committed to support leadership training and capacity building within the ACPNG. Once it was clear that AusAID funding would be available through the CPP to undertake capacity building within the church, ABM was faced with a potential overlap between Programs. The nature of E&CS projects means that they cannot simply be transferred to the new AusAID-funded program and, in any case, there may be a difference in the aims of each project, as Carolyn wondered later in conversation when she questioned whether it was possible to strengthen church leadership outside of a Christian framework. This is an example of the ways the values of the organisation, and the aims of a particular project, can impact on the implementation and ultimate effectiveness of an activity. The fact the AusAID chose to fund agencies through the CPP to strengthen church leadership in order to strengthen civil society impacts ABM because it is already supporting activities which strengthen church leadership in PNG. However, these activities are not acceptable to AusAID because of the parameters of its own program; hence ABM must decide how, and whether, it can accommodate two parallel streams of activities each attempting to achieve similar goals for different purposes. This is, at the very least, time consuming, but is further confusing to a partner church which sees all these activities as seeking to build up God’s church in PNG.

The other side of this is the need to retain balance within the organisation; as Geoff noted, the two models of operating mean that there is “competition which potentially exists between the two sides of the organisation as well. You know,

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Community Development might set itself up to grow at 35% and that might mean stealing some of the market from E&CS or vice versa. So that’s one of the issues here.” This issue becomes very real when full accreditation allows ComDev to obtain significantly greater sums of funding from government than E&CS is able to generate through donations from the church.

I wrote in my fieldnotes in February: Although ABM is a very small player in the international development field, and even within the church-based agencies, it presents a very complex organisational structure and I think this is where some of its problems lie. The very structure raises questions as to its priorities (mission or development?), its constituency (Australian Anglicans? Australian government? Overseas church partners?), and its outcomes (water? education? health? mission?).

The fact of ABM’s joining ACFID with its corresponding membership under the Code of Conduct is a significant influence with regard to these questions of priorities and constituency. ABM is now bound not only to respond to its constituents within the Anglican Church of Australia, with their concerns for sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ throughout the world and caring for people in need as a Christian response to God’s love. It is bound to act within fairly stringent guidelines which govern not just the implementation of projects but the way in which the organisation promotes and presents itself to its Anglican constituency. ABM is required to fulfil the Code of Conduct regulations not just in the promotion of its development activities but also in the promotion of its E&CS activities, even though these fall outside the development sector and are not funded by government. It also requires an increasingly complex system of administration in order to demonstrate clear separation of funding between the two programs, in some instances limiting the ability of staff to work on activities for the benefit of the whole of the organisation (such as speaking to church groups about ABM’s work), because the salary is funded from government for

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development purposes. While this transparency is clearly important and essential for the separation of development from proselytisation activities, organisationally it creates additional effort in attempting to operate a unified rather than a divided organisation.

In our reflection group, Sophie suggested that ComDev needed to look at the question: what do we mean by effectiveness? Determining what we understand to be our own standards of effectiveness (in addition to those of the sector) will influence both our outcomes and our strategies for monitoring and evaluation. What the activity is ultimately trying to achieve (in the case of AusAID – to strengthen civil society; in the case of E&CS – to strengthen the church) will determine both the implementation and the outcome of the intervention.

On the other hand, involvement with the aid sector allows the organisation to raise the profile of the Anglican Church and to influence the sector through the presence of a faith-based agency. John suggested that there are occasions when we need to look critically at what the government is asking of us, but I think the other thing that we need to recognise is that in some of the things that we are now engaged in, like the PNG program, we’ve actually had input in designing what the program is and what the accountability needs to be. So while there is an AusAID expectation it’s an expectation that has been devised in consultation with the development sector.

ABM’s involvement with the development sector has had implications for the organisation. Accreditation and membership of ACFID provide a benchmark for good organisational practice which has improved ABM’s administrative and financial systems and therefore accountability to its donors. John and Sophie’s participation on ACFID committees and in aid-sector meetings brings a depth of information and knowledge into the organisation; in turn, John and Sophie, and others from faith-based NGOs, bring to the sector and government a relationship with overseas communities as well as Australian supporters, and provide

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government with a grassroots perspective which would otherwise be unavailable. At times, for instance in the negotiations which informed the CPP, ABM and the other faith-based NGOs were able to provide direct input from Papua New Guineans as to what would or would not work on the ground. The long-term relationship which ABM has with its Partner church in PNG provides credibility in speaking in collaboration with the Church of PNG to the Australian aid sector and the government.

However, there is a challenge to maintain the integrity of the organisation’s culture, and fidelity to its relationship and history within the Anglican Church, while at the same time working within a growing and competitive aid sector. For ABM, there is also a risk in depending upon funding to achieve its own goals, when that funding is itself dependent upon the policy aims of government. “The thing that’s really hard is that the government-funded model can actually change over time – it’s not fixed – even though for a period of time it’s fixed but for me that’s a significant issue”, as Geoff remarked. What priorities the government determines in one year may not be the same in five years’ time, for reasons of foreign events, ideology, policy, or domestic concerns. In order to ensure that ABM is not caught by potential changes in government policy, John suggested there is a continuing need to articulate our own development philosophy, and to define in theological terms for ourselves what we mean by the term ‘community development’. ABM needs to maintain clarity about the aims of its program, within its own context of mission, so as to protect itself against changing political or sector policies which might be inimical to ABM’s overall vision. “I think that Sophie’s right that we can become a development agency, we can get tax deductibility, we can get accredited by AusAID, and we can follow a line – and is that really what we want to do?” (John)

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This question is important to the organisation for the very reason that there are now two sides of the organisation, and there can be tension between the two. While Geoff considered that the tension that sometimes arises is due to “the presuppositions that lay underneath, really, that people actually work from not necessarily different worldviews but a different operating kind of approach”, John felt that “the core reasons for the tension are that there are some real differences in the philosophical and methodological approach of both modes of operational activities and that’s where the tension lies.” Clarifying the philosophical and theological approach from each side may help to strengthen ABM’s concept of holistic mission, and to hold it together when faced with decisions regarding opportunities for new funding and programs. John later noted that “in reality you will always have people who work or will come through one model or another model, and that’s why we’ve got the models there, and why they separate out. That’s the reality.” However, as Geoff pointed out, “what’s unfortunate is that’s only fairly recent, you know in the last 150 years of understanding, and before that there was no problem in including things we call development in what would be traditional mission.”

What becomes hard to separate out from the history of mission is the history of the colonial enterprise: mission organisations were set up under the colonial kind of worldview and therefore you were just part of a culture that knew best and you just did impose your stuff. Now the whole culture thing has changed and this whole notion of actually asking the community what they’d like to do is representative of the whole change from the colonial model to the western imperialist model to whatever you call the new one. And that’s reflected in what community development is trying to do as part of a church organisation. (Geoff)

Ultimately, however, the organisation exists, and operates as it does, because of its commitment to living out an understanding of God’s call to Christians to serve.

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This means that, above and beyond industry standards and government requirements, there is the question of what ABM is called to do to serve God. This fundamental question impacts upon all of its decisions, operational and strategic. Geoff pointed out that: the really big question is what does it mean to be effective? I mean, that’s a debate in development but it’s also a debate for the agency. It’s a debate for the church. What does it mean to be effective? When are we doing the job right? When we get 1,000 people in church? Or when we’re preaching the gospel in a doctrinally pure way? Or when we’re doing the liturgy as it has been and ever shall be for ever and ever, amen? It’s a really good question. Part of the trouble too is that we’re dealing with God, we’re not dealing only with human cause and effect so you know, it’s very complex.

The belief that “we’re dealing with God” requires the organisation to consider and respond to the world around it, both opportunities and challenges, with the lens of faith. The decision to continue to fund indigenous ministry in Australia, although the short-term outcomes are uncertain and the long-term outcomes are unknown, is an example of this faith response to an area of need. Outcomes, for ABM, are understood to be in God’s hands ultimately, while in the spectrum of human history we act in faith in the present, building on what has been done in the past. The group’s understanding of the organisation, its history, Christian history, scripture and tradition, all contribute to determining strategic direction and focus. In an organisation which has already survived for over 150 years, there is a sense in which this understanding is continually evolving.

Development Committee reflection At the Development Committee meeting at the end of this cycle of inquiry, I posed the question: what do we mean by community development? The purpose of this was simply to find out what the Committee members thought, and what ideas might emerge from the group. The discussion which followed was uncomfortable, however, in that the group was unused to being asked such

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questions, or even having relatively unstructured conversations. People around the table offered suggestions of what the phrase meant to them; while there were points of agreement, there were also differences in approach. For instance, one member said that community development is simply working with a group of people, in a village or town or – and assisting them to achieve their potential...essentially you’re just allowing people to develop to their full potential and that’s community development.

However, another member challenged this, suggesting that the idea of ‘potential’ can itself be divisive – how do we determine what someone else’s potential is? Another member attempted to provide a theological understanding of the term: “Much of what ABM’s development work is is concerned principally, even if it doesn’t have as its principle aim, to improve relationships with God within the community.” Yet another person argued that: I think ABM’s always done community development it’s just that we haven’t always called it that but the concern for health, education, etc have always been there, and the values underpinning that have always been there, and I guess because of that it makes it harder to articulate them now because we now have to separate those things out which basically describe what is the core.

This comment raised the very real question of which aspects of ABM’s work are solely development, and which are solely evangelism. It could be argued that the line is very fuzzy, even with the strict structural separation which has been employed. For instance, the funding of a women’s refuge run by a religious order in the Solomon Islands is considered a development project, although those who are running it consider it a ministry. Likewise, the funding of a hospital in Gaza is overseen by E&CS even though health is considered to be a development activity. The question of whether what we now call development is the same as what we have always called mission returned our discussion to the ways in which we now work with communities, and how that differs from the past:

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“in the past we were certainly concerned about health and education but I think it was very much an imposed program, rather than a program which was coming in response to expressed needs from the communities themselves. It was very much a ‘we know what you need and here it is’.”

Without coming to an agreed common understanding, the conversation ended inconclusively. My notes at the end of the meeting tried to sum up the common threads of the conversation: “relationships are important between ABM and recipient community and within communities – aim is to assist in building whole communities, helping others to create their own whole communities – relationships are means, not ends.” Such a general statement of intention as we could muster in dialogue demonstrated the need for the Development Committee to do further work in the area of defining our purpose and strategic goals.

Summary Is community development a part of mission? Is ABM doing what it has always done, or does this Program herald a new direction for the organisation? Is development in fact a ‘new model’ of mission? The challenge to the organisation from the CPP is the most tangible consequence of the rise of the Community Development Program. Having committed through its restructure to separate development from church support, ABM now faces the very real problem that the Community Development Program is growing faster than Evangelism & Church Support, largely due to the influx of funding from government. While on the face of it this sounds a positive proposition – after all, more money means more projects for our partners as well as growth and sustainability for the organisation – the consequence of such growth is to challenge the viability of the ‘holistic mission’ vision underpinning ABM’s understanding of itself. It raises the spectre of whether the church is the first influence on the organisation or whether the development sector exercises a disproportionate influence on church activities. It also challenges the notion of the “euthanasia of the mission”, the withdrawal of

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mission activity leaving a sustainable church behind, which Venn proposed (see chapter three, page 67), and suggests a turn towards Dichter’s (2003) concern for the self-perpetuation of the development industry (see chapter two). Full accreditation and access to greater funding through the CPP, therefore, have the potential to unseat the organisation unless it carefully and thoughtfully considers how to maintain a balance between the two Programs, without holding back Community Development and in that way threatening its own growth and viability.

The question was asked: How is a faith-based NGO influenced by its relationship with government and the international development sector? The answer is two- fold. The relationship with the government as a funding body for development activities influences ABM’s ability to support its overseas church partners in a positive way, by providing funds but also by providing structures and standards which have meant improvements in use of funds, accountability, and evaluation. However, the relationship with government as a funding body for development has created a separation between the traditional church support activities of the organisation and those which are perceived by external bodies to be development. This has required the organisation to evolve its concept of holistic mission, which they are still struggling to articulate, and to develop a cohesive theology of mission which includes the structural separation of development activities while holding them within a single theological approach. Two mission paradigms are currently operating within the organisation. They are separated structurally, and to an extent through the different operating approaches of those leading the Programs. The extent to which they can be held together is still being discovered.

The realisation of the internal implications of the relationship with government led us to formulate a question for the second cycle in order to explore this more deeply. The question was first posed by Geoff as “what are the implications for a

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church mission organisation as it interacts with a government-funded model?” However, missiologically it is not just the government-funding which is at issue. What is at issue is how ABM sees itself as a mission agency, undertaking development activities. It is not just the structural divide which is of interest but the way in which the organisation has had to redefine itself and its activities, to reassess its core purpose, as a result of the relationship with government. ABM is not just interacting with a government-funded model; rather, it has adopted an operational model in order to meet the requirements of a government funding body. The question for the second cycle thus became: what does it mean for a traditional mission agency to take on an additional identity as a development agency? The question itself was cumbersome, and the words themselves became problematic and open to challenge in the second cycle, but by exploring the question, and the emotional response which it raised, the researchers were led to examine the nature of the organisation’s identity, and whether indeed there was one identity or two within the organisation. Understanding mission, the way in which the church witnesses to society, became the focus for the second cycle of inquiry.

Key points:

• ABM is the national mission agency of the Anglican Church of Australia, structurally bound to the church and embodying the Church’s understanding of itself as a missionary church. • ABM has long-standing relationships with many of its church partners, which have evolved over time as ABM’s understanding of mission has evolved. • A financial crisis in 2000 required the organisation to re-structure, which it did, creating a structure specifically designed to accommodate government funding. • ABM is still working to articulate its understanding of holistic mission, encompassing both church support and development activities.

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Chapter Seven: Development within the context of Christian mission

The development philosophy of ABM was formerly a traditional donor-recipient relationship in which needs (both spiritual and physical) were defined, resourced and addressed through the provision of expatriate services. ABM essentially served as a clearing house for missionaries, teachers, doctors, and nurses who were fielded at the request of other expatriate staff, in consultation with church officials in the host country. Power over decision- making and spending lay with the bishops and the priests overseas and at home. By the 1970s the agency provided block grants to local churches in Papua New Guinea, allowing them to allocate and monitor these grants. (Rugendyke and Zivetz, 1991:151)

[Community development] has been an opportunity for ABM, the historic mission agency, to reinvent itself – refocus on why it exists and how it serves the Church within Australia and in partner countries. It has been an opportunity for the ‘mission agency’ to network with Government Aid bodies and demonstrate competence and increasing credibility with all the pluses that has for resourcing projects identified by partner churches. And it has been a stimulus for the mission agency to engage with and utilise more effectively the technology of the 21st century: email communication, website materials, video and DVD presentations, pilgrimages and short term volunteer work – FANTASTIC. (email from DevCom member, 3rd August 2004)

Introduction The question for the second cycle was “what does it mean for an historic mission agency to take on an additional identity as a development agency?” The answer to this is that it means redefining mission, and redefining the organisation’s purpose in such a way that its own values are not compromised and its identity is clearly articulated. It also means that keeping the balance between the two

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Programs of the organisation, Evangelism & Church Support and Community Development, becomes an essential management issue.

This cycle explored ABM’s concept of holistic mission and its implications for the organisation. As discussed in the previous chapters, we broadened our discussions from considering solely the Community Development Program to exploring organisation-wide questions of identity and purpose. The Coordinator of the Evangelism & Church Support Program of the organisation, Carolyn, joined us for the second and third cycles of inquiry, and brought to the research her perspective of the organisation’s structure and its challenges. At the outset, it should be noted that the word ‘evangelism’ is problematic in the title of this Program within ABM. It is used in this thesis at times apparently in opposition to development activities, but in fact all aspects of ABM’s work contain a component of evangelism or witness (as will be discussed in this chapter). Furthermore, ABM doesn’t strictly engage in evangelism but resources partner Anglican churches to witness within their own communities. However, given that the name of this Program is Evangelism and Church Support, the word ‘evangelism’ within this thesis is used as shorthand for the church-building aspects of ABM’s activities.

Understanding holistic mission within ABM ABM was restructured in 2000 for financial reasons; the number of staff was significantly reduced and assets were sold. The organisation moved from having a head office in Sydney and branch offices in Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide and Perth, to having a single office in Sydney. The work previously carried out by field officers in the regional offices was either centralised in Sydney or handed over to local committees of volunteer supporters (the latter being made responsible for local fundraising, information sharing and other supporter activities). Two staff outside of Sydney were retained because of their particular

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skills and value to the organisation33. The restructure significantly reduced overheads (a prerequisite for applying for full accreditation so that the ratio of overheads to project funding was within an acceptable margin), and also created a new internal structure.

In 2001, the new organisational structure was formalised in a new constitution, taking into consideration the requirements of government accreditation. ABM now holds within it two Programs which operate autonomously: the Evangelism & Church Support Program and the Community Development Program (see Appendix Two). The sole purpose of this separation is to allow the organisation to function as a development agency, separating activities between the two Programs. Essentially, those activities which were concerned with building up the church became the E&CS Program, while activities which benefited the broader community, and qualified for AusAID funding under the terms of government regulations, were organised under Community Development. It should be noted, however, that most staff consider this to be an artificial separation, and that all of ABM’s activities, whether explicitly or implicitly, are undertaken as acts of Christian witness. In other words, staff at ABM undertake this work because they believe that God has called them to serve God’s people in this way, whether this is explicitly stated or not.

The E&CS Program reports to the Board through the National Director; the Community Development Program reports to the Development Committee, which has delegated authority from the Board, thus formally separating the governance of development activities from activities considered to be religious in nature. Administrative and operational staff in the areas of promotions, resources and

33 the Mission Education Officer, who works from his home in Adelaide, and the Promotions & Resources Officer, who works from her home in Victoria; at the time of the research the Community Development Project Officer also worked from her home in Canberra.

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finance, support both Programs as required. ABM thus forms an administrative umbrella under which the two Programs function independently of each other.

The stated purpose of the E&CS Program is to support “Partner Churches as they seek to develop projects which grow and develop the church” (Anglican Board of Mission, 2004a:3). The Evangelism & Church Support Program is distinct from the Community Development Program in a number of ways. First and most obviously, it receives no government funding, but is entirely reliant on the support of Anglican parishes, schools and individuals throughout the country. Second, the activities it promotes are directly related to encouraging the growth and health of Anglican communities in various partner countries; that is, it is explicitly Christian and Anglican in its orientation. Third and in consequence, its priorities are funding and supporting theological education as well as ministry activities and leadership training. While E&CS does fund some activities which might be considered to have a development focus, such as health clinics in the Middle East or youth homes in Korea, these tend either to have more of a welfare orientation (which is outside the remit of government funded development programs), or are organised in such a way as not to be structurally separate from evangelistic activities. About half of the financial support for E&CS projects goes to indigenous communities within Australia (Anglican Board of Mission, 2003a:3). The E&CS Program currently works in only two countries in which the Community Development Program is also active: Papua New Guinea and the Philippines. Other E&CS partners include Anglican dioceses in northern Australia with ministries for Aboriginal Anglicans, and partner churches in Korea and in the Province of Jerusalem and the Middle East (Anglican Board of Mission, 2004a:3).

What does ‘holistic mission’ mean? Thomas (2003:136) has suggested that the period from the 1960s-1990s was a time when both Catholic and Protestant

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theologians began to redefine mission in terms of social justice. This corresponds to the growth in the number of Christian development agencies and, particularly, the period in which ABM began to reinterpret some of its mission activities in terms of social justice and community development. ABM’s notion of holistic mission, therefore, is grounded in the theological understanding of the contemporary church, and is an attempt to understand the role of the Christian community in today’s world as something more than the missionary role of the colonial church.

ABM has no written theology of mission or development. In one way, this is not surprising since, as Yates (1988:430) notes, Anglican missiology is to be understood more by observing practice rather than reading theory. However, ABM’s practice agrees with what Yates considers to be two characteristics of Anglican missiology: indigenisation and education (Yates, 1988:430). Following Yates’ characterisation of Anglican mission, ABM strives for indigenisation34 in its support for partner churches’ projects, and in recognising and supporting the autonomy of our partners. This is true of support for indigenous Anglican communities within Australia as much as for Anglican churches overseas. While there is a spectrum of independence in relationships between ABM and its partners (the PNG church, for instance, is notably dependent upon external funding from Australia, whereas the church in Myanmar is not primarily dependent upon ABM for financial support), ABM seeks to work with partner churches in ways which encourage people in the partner churches to help themselves. It has deliberately moved away from the notion of a sending agency which provided Australian missionaries to overseas missions.

34 An Asian feminist theologian has pointed out the inadequacies of this term in limiting alternative readings to Christian scriptures and history, and encourages local communities, and in particular women, to be creative in re-constructing theology in ways which are intrinsic to local culture. Pui-lan, K. 2003 (1990), 'The emergence of Asian feminist consciousness of culture and theology (excerpt)' in Eds, Thomas, N. E., Classic texts in mission and world Christianity, Orbis Books, Maryknoll, pp. 217-218.

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Historically, there has also been an emphasis on learning, Yates’ second characteristic of Anglican mission. Early British Anglo-Catholic missionaries to Australia and the Pacific attempted to learn the languages of the native peoples with whom they came into contact, both to teach them the Gospel and to provide the tools of literacy (Hilliard, 1978, Wetherall, 1977, Whiteman, 1983). This work continues today with, for example, ABM’s support for the revival of the indigenous Durgha language in the Canberra and Goulburn region of Australia, including the translation into Durgha of the Lord’s Prayer (Anglican Board of Mission, 2005a:6).

In the 1980s, the Anglican Consultative Council, an international body of representatives of Anglican churches around the world, identified what they termed “the Five Marks of Mission”. These five statements were considered to define, in a broad manner, the characteristics of Anglican mission. ABM re- worded and adopted these Marks of Mission in 1998 and they stand as the closest thing that the organisation has to a definition of holistic mission: • Witness to Christ’s saving, forgiving, reconciling love for all people; • Build welcoming, transforming communities of faith; • Stand in solidarity with the poor and needy; • Challenge injustice and oppression; and • Protect, care for and renew life on our planet (McCoy, 1998).35

In an article by McCoy (1998:30), at the time a staff member of ABM and the instigator of ABM’s reflections on the Marks of Mission, these new statements

35 The original Five Marks of Mission of the worldwide Anglican Communion, developed by the Anglican Consultative Council between 1984-1990, are as follows: “to proclaim the Good News of the Kingdom; to teach, baptise and nurture new believers; to respond to human need by loving service; to seek to transform unjust structures of society; and to strive to safeguard the integrity of creation and sustain and renew the life of the earth.” (see http://www.aco.org/mission/fivemarks.cfm)

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emphasise the existential aspects of Christian mission, the ‘being’ as well as the ‘doing’. They are broad statements of how Christians are called to be in the world, without defining the exact nature of particular actions. McCoy considers that there are three cornerstones to an incarnational (visibly manifest) theology, “gospel, church, context”. He suggests that a fundamental characteristic of an Anglican approach to mission is its contextual understanding: “the local church everywhere [has] the freedom to discern the shape of its own contextual mission response and to work out the questions of method, agency and so on, within an agreed missiological framework” (McCoy, 1998:30). For ABM, the framework is found within its own adaptation of the Marks of Mission.

A statement in 2004 by the National Director, Geoff Smith, articulated holistic mission in simpler terms: “Both of ABM’s two arms – Evangelism and Church Support, and Community Development are very important to our work. Together they reflect our understanding of God’s mission – both the call to faith in Jesus Christ, and actions which reflect the reality of the kingdom of God” (Smith, 2004:4). According to this statement, the Community Development Program reflects one half of the whole vocation of Christians throughout the world; Christians are called to believe in Jesus Christ and to follow in his footsteps by imitating his actions of love and compassion. The Community Development Program, without speaking explicitly about Christian belief or practice, is considered to be a way for Australian Christians to act as Jesus did, by assisting in the provision of material needs for their neighbours. In the words of a member of the Development Committee “[Community Development] can give more teeth to the justice aspects of the Gospel where those who have too much share with those who are struggling in the developing world” (personal email communication, 3rd August 2004).

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Mission identity within a development paradigm The question raised in the second cycle (what does it mean for the agency to take on an additional identity as a development agency?) therefore begged the question as to whether development was a distinct paradigm apart from mission. There was debate during the second cycle of research as to whether ABM had two distinct mission approaches or paradigms, or whether in fact it was the same paradigm with different applications, or indeed whether the distinctions came down more to personalities and individual ways of operating. This is more than simply a semantic exercise, and more than simply a means of getting money from government by calling certain activities ‘development’. This question moves to the heart of ABM’s identity, and how it continues to position itself as a Christian mission agency. The centrality of this question for the organisation was heightened through the implementation of the CPP and the preparation for AusAID accreditation later in the year. Since the 1980s when it began gradually to separate out some activities and call them ‘community development’, ABM has affirmed that development is part of one holistic mission. By 2004, the organisation faced the question of how to position itself as a mission agency when potentially a greater part of its work was development work. Geoff spoke adamantly about this at the research team’s August reflection meeting: It’s very clear to me why we’re involved because community development is a very integral part of the way we see mission. It benefits our partners and the government is prepared to fund us. We’re part of the Australian community and Australian society and it’s one of the ways that we can serve our partners. Those tax dollars wouldn’t be available to our partners, in the way that they are, and in the grassroots way that they are, if we weren’t involved.

However, there are tensions in holding the two of these mission paradigms together. A focus on the relationship with government means that attention is given to developing and maintaining those stakeholder relationships, leaving less time available for ABM’s traditional constituency, Anglican parishes around the

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country. It is significant that John and Sophie give fewer presentations to Anglican parishes and dioceses than other members of the staff. Their time is engaged instead in meetings with AusAID and ACFID. The separation of finances within the organisation, required for AusAID accreditation, has required a significant commitment of resources and time, due to the complication of having two separate Programs with a common administrative structure. Financial staff spend more time than before in reporting exercises to satisfy ACFID and AusAID requirements, and project staff spend more time than previously in seeking more detailed reports from partners and in reporting back to government. Marketing and promotions materials and campaigns are careful to apportion equal time and space to each Program, with different times of the year dedicated to each Program (the liturgical season of Lent, falling generally in February and March, is the traditional time for the E&CS Program to encourage parish donations, for instance). Ensuring that each Program is adequately but equally resourced is difficult as well, when parish giving is often designated for one Program or the other. The intention to promote both Programs doesn’t ensure that each will be equally attractive to the Anglican constituency in a given year. The availability of tax deductibility through the Community Development Program makes giving to these activities more attractive to some supporters than church-building activities, which don’t attract tax deductibility. Balancing income and expenditure, a challenge in any non-profit organisation, becomes a double balancing act when two Programs are involved. It also impacts on the whole of the organisation, since government funding which may support, for instance, the finance staff, must be clearly delineated as a percentage of each staff member’s time to ensure that no funding crosses over to the other Program. The requirement to separate financial and administrative systems thus in itself creates an additional layer of administration, which is costly.

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This question of ABM’s identity was raised one afternoon in conversation with John. In discussing the themes which had arisen in our reflection meeting in the first cycle, John noted that there had been no mention of the poor, or of justice. He made reference to the Old Testament models of community which always came back to questions of justice. He wondered, “where is ABM’s prophetic voice?” In past decades ABM had been an early pioneer of partnership models, and of championing indigenous rights.36 I suggested that community development work needed to be grounded in biblical models of justice. What would be a Christian approach to development? John suggested that “the prophets were the ones who were always talking about justice, and they were the ones with the visions”. This question of the prophetic role echoes that discussed by Jelen & Wilcox (2002b), as one which stood ready to oppose authoritarian structures which impeded justice for God’s people. The ability to critique government and civil systems which disadvantage the poor and powerless is an important consideration for ABM, which has often in the past been vocal regarding issues of social justice. Participating in and standing apart from systems of power is a balancing act for a small organisation like ABM which, as Sophie noted, has a visibility within the aid sector disproportionate to its size.

For the group’s meeting in August I prepared a brief paper identifying key themes for the group. The themes were an expansion of the original list (see page 131), focussing again on the impact on the organisation of the Program structures which separated out development activities from evangelism. They were themes which had arisen out of discussions between all of us in different combinations at different times: John and I, Sophie and I, Carolyn and I, John and Sophie, etc. As

36ABM was involved in the 19th century in the development of Aboriginal cooperatives and other income-generating projects which assisted Aboriginal self-determination. In the mid-1990s, at the beginning of the movement for reconciliation, ABM issued an apology for its collusion in activities which had resulted in the ‘stolen generation’ of indigenous children who had been removed from their communities. (ABM did not in itself remove children but had supported mission stations where children had been taken by the government.)

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said before, because of the nature of each staff member’s travel, meeting together was in itself difficult. Because of my role as doctoral researcher I was the pivotal contact, in that I tried to ensure that I at least talked to each other person regularly. In that sense I felt a responsibility to try to relay back to the others what I had heard from our conversations. Before this meeting, I had a concern that perhaps John and Sophie and I were simply agreeing with one another, because of the greater frequency of our conversations together, and it appeared that I was right when we met with Geoff and Carolyn, who responded strongly to the statements which I had made.

My first statement regarded the theme of a spiritual perspective on development, and I had written: “a fundamental and as yet unanswered question for ABM is what it means for a Christian mission agency to become involved in the secular aid sector.” Carolyn challenged my notion of ABM joining a ‘secular’ aid sector, stating that there’s a faith-based Christian element in the Australian aid sector, and in the aid sector in just about every developed country in the world, so it’s not an anomaly. The biggest agencies in Europe are church-based, or faith-based, in some kind of way. There’s a spirituality connected and a theological framework that underpins what they do.

John actually concurred with that, saying I’m not sure the aid sector is secular. I think historically it has its roots well and truly within the Christian tradition and has really emerged from that...the development or aid sector has its own paradigm or way of being, and there’s an attempt to say ‘and it’s not evangelism’ as we formally understand evangelism, but it engages and does things in a different way. So I think there’s an attempt to create or say that there’s a different identity, but I’m not sure that people would say the aid sector is secular.

While agreeing with their statements to a point (accepting that the word ‘secular’ had raised hackles, but acknowledging that the sector does not identify as religious and certainly not as Christian, and the government is constitutionally

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non-sectarian), I still felt that the question was unanswered regarding how our involvement with the sector influenced the decisions which we were making within the organisation, decisions regarding how we worked with our partners, what types of projects we chose to support, what we required of our partners. Perhaps it was in the process of being answered as the organisation progressed in its maturity as a development agency.

Sophie suggested that I see our involvement in the secular aid sector as also meaning our involvement with ACFID, and that because we’re a member of the sector we hold ourselves to certain things under the code of conduct, or just in the debate about what it means to be an effective development agency.

But what could be the implications of our increasing involvement with this sector: with ACFID and the Code of Conduct, and with AusAID and its reporting requirements? Sophie felt strongly that this involvement allowed us to shape the debates regarding aid and development, and to put forward a Christian viewpoint: we’re a true participating member...we’re part of the debate around whatever is current, which may be at the moment effectiveness, but we’re part of that. As well as receiving benefit from that we’re also contributing to that debate...you know John’s been very involved in the setting of standards of not using funds for a particular religious adherence. As a faith-based agency we give credence to those sorts of debates, and other debates.

What I felt during this meeting was a sense of separation between John, Sophie and I and Geoff and Carolyn. Our choice of seats reflected this, with Geoff and Carolyn on one side of the table and John, Sophie and I on another. John and Sophie and I had become comfortable with asking questions about the development and mission paradigms and how they fit together; we also talked together more frequently than each of us talked with the other two. I wondered whether, as I was reading and challenging my own ideas, I was projecting onto the organisation my own uncertainty as to how the organisation could maintain an

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effective mission presence as it grew closer to the ethos of the development sector. And yet, there were tangible ways in which the two sides of the organisation were diverging in their relationships with partner churches. Because ComDev related primarily to the Anglican Health Service and the Anglican Education Department of the Anglican Church of Papua New Guinea, for instance, ComDev staff members were less engaged with the clergy and laity in that church, and more involved with the activities of the health and education services, which are separate departments within the ACPNG. The ComDev Program was more focussed on the activities of those departments – funding a village health clinic – than on the worshipping life of the church. Because the E&CS Program was explicitly about building up the church, it engaged directly with clergy and laypeople of the church; the nature of the projects meant that the Program was more engaged with individuals within the hierarchy of the church, and less focussed on outcomes – especially since ministry itself is difficult to evaluate – than on relationships. In addition, although ComDev’s aims might be material in outputs (delivering a water sanitation system, establishing a health clinic), ABM’s aims as a whole organisation are focussed on the church partner and the strength and self-sufficiency of the church as an entity, for the purpose of Christian witness. This is a much larger goal under which ComDev’s work is a contribution to that holistic notion of mission. The potential of ComDev growing larger than the church support side of the organisation thus raises a question as to which aims will be driving the organisation in the future.

Once again, the CPP highlighted this tension between the two. Carolyn had questioned “whether it is possible to strengthen church leadership outside of a Christian framework”. The CPP provided funding for capacity building for the institutional church in Papua New Guinea, thus opening up an opportunity for ABM to resource the ACPNG for leadership and management training in a host of ways. The aim of this is to strengthen the institutional church to be able to

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provide essential services to the community. In essence this means resourcing the capacity of the health and education services, and the administrative functions required to expand these services. This is a significantly different aim than that of strengthening church leadership through the E&CS Program, the aim of which would be to build up leaders within the church in PNG to provide spiritual leadership to its community, to strengthen the moral fabric of society. Both means of strengthening leadership are valid, and both are worth doing. The difference is in the intention of the action, and its probable outcomes.

A pivotal point in the group reflection meeting held in August was reached when John stated once again that “ABM continues to be doing a fairly brave thing in holding together two paradigms which are different and on occasions quite complementary but on occasions produce tension.” In the ensuing discussion, what emerged were points of convergence rather than divergence between the E&CS and the ComDev Programs. John began by quoting the Five Marks of Mission (see page 186), and considered that community development work began with the second Mark (“build welcoming, transforming communities of faith”). He suggested that the E&CS and ComDev Programs each model the Marks of Mission in different ways. I think they express mission in a different form. [With] community development the point of entry is through the community...I see E&CS working through a different paradigm. I mean I see them all as an expression of God’s mission but not the whole of what God’s mission is, just manifestations or parts or however you want to describe it. (John)

However, Geoff challenged this, stating that E&CS also works through the community. Both sides aim to work at a grassroots level with communities in partner churches; while each has to work through the structures of the church, each aims to assist local communities to grow and develop themselves. Carolyn argued that

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in fact [because of the CPP] Community Development is going to be working more through the structures. I mean, it’s possible for a local church, or a local community, to develop a program that E&CS supports, whereas the community development in PNG is actually about what the priorities of the provincial institution are. In other words, neither Program could claim to be either ‘grassroots’ or ‘hierarchical’. While the Community Development team talked about ‘grassroots’ engagement, it had long been working through the structures of the church, particularly the health and education services. In addition, because of the CPP ComDev was now also engaging in consultation at the institutional level, where AusAID was engaging with the church structures. In the meantime, E&CS was engaged at the local level with supporting and resourcing local clergy and villages to increase the church’s effective ministry as well as liaising with the church’s hierarchy.

A few minutes earlier, Carolyn had stated that “we serve people in the way of Christ because each being is of infinite value to God, with the supplying of their basic human needs and rights, plus telling them the good news of Jesus...” In the ensuing discussion, Sophie returned to this statement, identifying a primary distinction between the two Programs in the intentionality of articulating religious beliefs. Sophie argued that development did not speak about Jesus but was action undertaken in response to Jesus: “I would say that [addressing] basic human rights and needs is expressing the word of Jesus just by its being, the person of Jesus is expressed through the very provision and building up of communities’ own self-reliance”. In essence, Christian witness was expressed in action by the providers, and was not dependent upon the response of the recipients. Carolyn, by contrast, suggested that the E&CS Program was explicit in sharing the Gospel with people, and encouraging a relationship with Jesus: “what I’m saying is the difference is that we’re intentional about stating that that relationship is important, that fullness of life is not just about having enough water, it’s about knowing the living God.”

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In the course of this conversation it became clear that the divergence between the two Programs is not found in the way in which they operate. While community development has an emphasis on activities which benefit the material well-being of the whole community, such as maternal health care or agricultural facilities, E&CS also has a community focus in seeking to enhance the spiritual life of the community, through the provision of youth workers, ministers, or teachers. The divergence of the Programs occurs at the point of intention, the aims driving the projects and relationships with which each Program engages. The intentions of the two may be different – one shares the resources and technology of Western development, one shares the Gospel – but the underlying paradigm of mission as action in response to God’s call to love is the same. Carolyn summarised in this way: The intentional thing in community development is to serve people absolutely regardless of who they are, and that’s part of evangelism as well but at the same time I don’t see that the evangelism and church support is just about maintaining the structures of the church, I actually think it’s about releasing the blockages in the structures of the church for the good news about Jesus to be heard and experienced in people’s lives.

Both Programs are concerned with changing the world for the better; it is the way in which this is enacted which differs. Sophie concurred, “the word intentional really struck a chord with me, because I thought – well, I guess it is a crucial difference...we’d definitely non-intentionally [speak about Jesus]...but it’s still an expression of Christian witness.” I suggested that the intention of what we were trying to do determined the outcomes and effectiveness: “if you’re trying to be effective in delivering water but what you really want to do is deliver the word of Jesus your effectiveness in doing either may be compromised.”

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John’s response following this interchange was interesting in that it indicated a tension between the way in which community development activities are envisaged, and the way in which they may operate in practice. We certainly would argue very strongly that the spiritual side of communities is a very important part of communities, and that’s something that we believe very strongly needs to be looked after and strengthened by the engagement with communities. But the issue that arises for us is – is that something that’s brought in from outside or is that something that the community itself is allowed to develop and nurture.

In reality, the CPP is a program which is “brought in from outside”, an opportunity provided to the church because of AusAID’s concern to build up the civil structures of PNG. While AusAID engaged in consultation with the Australian church-based NGOs, and ABM has engaged in consultation with the PNG church, the ability of the PNG church to develop and strengthen itself through the CPP is set within the parameters of AusAID’s foreign policy objectives. This is where the tension of ComDev and E&CS is most visible. Traditional mission activities are driven by the relationship with partners and are unlimited by external structures, while development activities also arise out of the relationship with partners but are driven by the opportunities for government funding and the accepted practices of the aid sector.37

Geoff challenged John’s statement of different paradigms by pointing out that if the distinction was based on the notion of working with the grassroots community, then both Programs were working within the same paradigm, particularly as ComDev worked more with the dioceses and structures of the Church in PNG due to the CPP. It’s interesting I think that both sides are both seeking a grassroots expression which means that we’re not aiming to have

37 ComDev does some fund development activities on its own, without seeking government funding. However, these activities are still bounded by the parameters of the sector’s definition of acceptable development activities, and their requirements for reporting and evaluation.

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different paradigms, if that’s the definition of the paradigm, if that’s what makes the two different, we’re actually aiming for the same paradigm. If community development’s paradigm is about community, and if the perception is that E&CS’s paradigm is about hierarchy, then as we journey along – as we progress the relationship – both sides will be sharing the same paradigm.

Carolyn wondered if the answer to the question lay in the willingness to respect and value each way of working, “to recognise that yes we do work in different ways but in the end we have the same values and to respect and trust each other in that way.” She introduced into the discussion the notion of ‘polarity management’ (Johnson, 1996). Johnson’s (1996) theory suggests that some problems can’t be solved, but must be managed; thus, rather than the solution to a problem being singular, the solution is balancing opposites so that the benefits of each oppositional pole are experienced. Carolyn drew a matrix on the whiteboard to demonstrate to the group that both evangelism and development were essential components of one concept, mission, and that both were necessary because mission would be diminished without one side or the other. The central notion of polarity management is that when the organisation begins to move too far towards one polarity, it must begin to move back towards the other end in order to maintain a healthy balance. This is so for any oppositional categories which might be suggested for organisations: individual/team, authoritarian/laissez faire leadership, aggressive/passive behaviour, linear/circular thinking, etc. Too much emphasis on team unity, for instance, would stifle an organisation, whereas too much autonomy might fracture an organisation. Each organisation needs to find a balance between ends of a spectrum. In the case of ABM, Carolyn was suggesting that the two sides of the organisation needed to balance each other as, to use Johnson’s example (1996:21-24), both inhaling and exhaling is necessary for survival. Breathing is, in Johnson’s example, a metaphor for the ends of the spectrum: a person can’t only breathe in, nor can s/he only breathe out. To live a person must have a balance of both breathing in and breathing out. A polarity

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matrix for ABM on the spectrum of mission might look something like the following.

positive attributes positive attributes

people come to faith greater education building of relationships better health and nutrition new hope in life improved morbidity and mortality rates joy employment

EVANGELISM DEVELOPMENT

dogmaticism dependency community inflexibility loss of indigenous values coercion industry self-perpetuation judgementalism wastage

negative attributes negative attributes Diagram 7.1 Polarity management matrix – organisational intentionality after Johnson 1996

The point of polarity management is to remain alert to the propensity of a group or organisation to become stuck in one quadrant or another. Once the organisation moves too far to the left or right side of the matrix, for instance because the evangelism side is going so well that ABM chooses to allocate more resources to it, then the organisation begins to experience some of the negative attributes of that side of the spectrum. It is then time to right the balance by moving more towards the other side of the spectrum, in this case towards recognising the positive aspects of development. This is the breathing in and out of the organisation, seeking the balance between the aims and operations of both Programs. In terms of a mission paradigm, this would mean recognising that both sides of the organisation are engaged in authentic expressions of mission, and that concentrating too much on one side or the other could lead to the negative

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attributes of that side coming to the fore. To move too far to the side of community development and engagement with the aid sector would in time strain the agency’s relationship with its church roots, and would need to be balanced by introducing a greater emphasis on the grounding of ABM’s work in its faith tradition.

This theory struck a surprising chord within the group. Carolyn stated that she thought “organisationally for ABM it’s actually about us working in such a way that we experience the positives [of each program].” This became a transformational conversation because there has been tension between the two sides of the organisation. The organisation’s historic activities find continuity in the E&CS Program, where health, education, and evangelism have all sprung from the Church’s mission. It is easier for E&CS to identify development activities as fitting in with theories of mission, because that is where they have historically been contained. The boundaries between the two Program from that perspective can be conceived as porous, because the paradigm of mission contains both.

However, from the perspective of government-funded development activities, it has been crucial that the lines are drawn clearly, so the ComDev Program has been much more ready to fix the boundaries and to resist intrusions from the rest of the organisation into its operations, in order to safeguard its eligibility for accreditation. Neither Program is wrong in its approach, but opportunities for sitting together and addressing differences have been rare. Both Carolyn and John recognise the importance of holding the two modalities together; however John’s stance has been to create distance between the two Programs, to be able to demonstrate ComDev’s autonomy, so it was significant when he responded later in the meeting: I think that’s where Carolyn’s view of the polarities and the fact that what we strive to do is actually to create an opportunity to

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breathe, where we recognise that there are tensions and we know that we need – we know that there’s a creativity about them being together and we know that there’s something authentic about them being together because that’s actually expressing the church and what the church is and how the church wants to engage in mission but then we actually have to create the breathing space to allow the creativity but also to allow some of the tension to be lifted.

There was also recognition that the organisation has been engaged in a long process of developing both its structures and philosophy, and that placing evangelism and development within a larger paradigm is part of the continuing intellectual work of the team. John said later that: “I think some of the stresses and strains came from not really understanding what the agency let itself in for in the first place and that’s history now but it was certainly some of the stuff I encountered when I started with the agency.” ABM is still grappling with the implications of the decision to move into the development sector back in the 1980s. Arriving at a position in which it is possible to apply for full accreditation has been a significant achievement for the organisation, in which its continuing philosophical and theological development plays a large part.

The need for the organisation to continue to pay attention to its philosophical and theological grounding was reinforced by John later in the meeting: when I started with the organisation I was really conscious of the fact that community development had in a sense been grafted onto the organisation, you know, it was something that had been identified and seen as the ‘golden egg’. There hadn’t been a great deal of thought except for the one or two staff members involved, about what community development was really all about. So it was sort of grafted onto the organisation and then kicking and screaming the organisation had to make changes so that it could bring itself up to speed in some areas, and then it went through its first accreditation review which was a real shock and an eye- opener for everyone concerned.

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It was noted in conversation that the structural changes within ABM have been consistent with those already in place within the ACPNG, which has had for some years an Anglican Health Service and an Anglican Education Department separate from its diocesan structure. As Geoff said, “we might be tempted to feel guilty that we’re separating these things for our own administrative requirements but in fact [our partners] are too and for similar administrative reasons.” ABM’s partner in the Philippines, the Episcopal Church of the Philippines (ECP), has also separated out development, with a Development Office and Diocesan Development Officers working within their regional areas (like ACPNG, the ECP had separated development from church support activities before ABM did so). The question of how to balance evangelism with development, therefore, is one which also affects our partners as they seek to assist their own communities. It affects ABM as we seek to monitor and evaluate our own effectiveness, because our commitment to a relational approach to our work means that we are accountable to a number of different stakeholders, through long-term relationships with partners, through engagement with the aid sector, and through our responsibilities as a mission agency of the Anglican Church of Australia.

Effectiveness and intentionality The theme of intentionality was explored again at the Development Committee meeting at the end of August as we continued the conversation regarding the vision for community development. Sophie suggested that: I think part of it comes back to this intention thing, we’re still – vision, mission – a bit confused about...where are we coming from, what’s our purpose. Whereas our values are the same, our purpose is different, so in a project sense it’s setting out what is our mission as community development as part of our holistic mission. I think that’s been a gap for a long time.

Because of the relationship with government ABM is no longer simply a mission agency doing what we understand as God’s work in the world, but is participating

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in an aid sector that’s worth hundreds of millions of dollars and influencing that aid sector by our participation through ACFID. There is a corresponding accountability to that sector which is of a different nature than ABM’s understanding of itself within the church. There is, therefore, a need to articulate ABM’s own concept as not just a church agency but as something that is also wider and participates in an Australian and international context.

Along these lines, the question of what ABM was trying to achieve as a mission and development agency was raised. Effectiveness could be measured at the delivery level, for instance in the installation of a water system. But how do we measure the larger aims of the organisation? “An organisation like ABM and like most development agencies has other goals that are quite a different order from that, which not only require a different kind of assessment but in which the possibilities of getting an answer are quite different.” (Development Committee member) The question then becomes, at what level are we articulating our aims and monitoring our activities? This should be occurring at a number of levels. Using again the example of a water system, its establishment could have a number of effects: ...if it’s a service delivery [so] it’s actually creating the water system, then there are various ways to measure the effectiveness of that. But if it’s actually that the water system is, or working with the community to help them develop the water system is actually designed to be empowering and mobilising and strengthening the community in its cohesion, then that’s measured in other ways. (Committee member)

John summed this up by saying: “I think we need a clear understanding of what we actually are seeking to do when we work with people.” This returns again to the question of the intention of our activities, which in turn informs our actions, and influences the outcomes.

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One Committee member gave an example of a water project in the Philippines, where the community began talking about family planning as a result of the clean water and the fact that children were living longer. This was an example of an outcome which was unintended. While this could not be measured as part of the effectiveness of the project itself (the water system went in, and worked successfully; the project targets were reached, finances acquitted, etc.), it was something which was, in the words of one committee member, “a consequential outcome rather than something against which we measure our effectiveness.” Family planning in this village may or may not turn out to be a positive decision for this village; but in either case can it be attributed to the work of ABM, for either praise or blame? The unintended results of our work, in this village or in other places, particularly in the long term, cannot be measured; it is, however, a reminder that our intentions when we begin to support projects must be clear and articulated.

The question of the agency’s identity, as both a mission and a development agency, gave rise to the notion of intentionality, as a distinctive feature in the work each Program undertakes. It led to the question asked earlier by the research group, “how do we make the space to breathe?” In other words, how does the organisation balance the ends of its spectrum, the polarities of intentionality? Breathing space to this group meant allowing space for both Programs to expand, to breathe, in complementarity with each other but recognising different intentions. Holding together ABM’s concept of holistic mission means balancing evangelism and development activities while remaining accountable to church, government and partners for an authentic expression of the Church’s mission, of contemporary development practice, and of Christian community. This question of accountability became the subject of the third cycle of inquiry.

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Summary In the second cycle of the year’s fieldwork, the research team explored the question of ABM’s identity and the way in which it had been influenced or challenged by the closer relationship with the development sector. In many ways, this is a question of culture. The culture of the Christian mission agency is changed by the interaction with the culture of the aid sector, such that issues of priority and intention move subtly from those defined by the Christian call to community and justice to those defined by foreign policy objectives. As Brodhead (1987:2) writes: One consequence of increased government funding may well be the greater clout thereby conferred on the part of an organization concerned with project funding or implementation; the voice of financial managers and projects administrators is strengthened in an agency’s strategic thinking, and the cost of ‘risk-taking’ in activities which are closer to home and potentially more controversial, goes up.

Brodhead’s comment takes up the point raised by John when he wondered where ABM’s prophetic role was found. The point was also apparent in the team meeting during which the importance of intention was highlighted, through ComDev staff’s wariness about an explicit Christian witness and its ability to jeopardise ABM’s position within the non-sectarian aid community. The question is this: as a faith-based NGO works more closely with government, does it lose (or risk losing) its prophetic voice because of the cost of risk-taking, as Brodhead suggests? Can ABM be prophetic in its leadership of a Christian call to seek justice, while it also works within the structures of government and the aid sector?

In order to avoid this danger, the Community Development Program needs to be firmly grounded in the mission paradigm of the organisation as a whole, articulated by the Five Marks of Mission, and not just “grafted on” (as John said) to the organisation. For its part, the rest of the organisation needs to be articulating development as part of mission, within its theological understanding

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of mission, rather than as a Program which is somehow separate and which is driven by its visibility and participation within the aid sector. In a sense, development theories need to be re-conceptualised as part of the culture of Christian mission, and formulated in terms of the understanding of the Biblical call to advocate for justice and to care for the poor. “Making space to breathe” was agreed by all participants to be a metaphor for ensuring that the two Programs remain aligned within a single paradigm, under the identity of a mission agency. This is crucial in the light of the expected growth of the ComDev Program.

Aligning its actions within a single paradigm, while remaining aware of its varied intentions, will require the organisation to attend to the relationships of its stakeholders, within the church, within the aid sector, and with our partner churches. It is only through accountability to these relationships that ABM will maintain its legitimacy in acting as both a mission agency and a development agency. These relationships of accountability and their corresponding legitimising effect on ABM’s intentions will be discussed in the following chapter.

Key points:

• ABM grounds its work in its understanding of holistic mission, articulated by the Five Marks of Mission. • In its growth as a development agency, ABM needs to be careful that the aims which drive the organisation are grounded in its understanding of mission, rather than externally driven by the aid sector. • The convergence between the two Programs is a paradigm of grassroots relationships with partner churches; divergence arises in the intention of activities. • Effectiveness and questions of outcome arise as we articulate our understanding of intentionality.

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Chapter Eight: Relationships with stakeholders

In the mid-1980s, ABM learnt of the availability of AIDAB funding through the AIDAB/NGO Project Subsidy Scheme. ABM decided to apply for government grants, as part of a pragmatic approach to improving its budgetary position. In 1987, it became policy for the Mission to be associated with AIDAB in its relationship with NGOs. In the process of dealing with AIDAB, demands for accountability have prodded ABM into a new level of communication with its partners. The Board had tended to be lenient when requesting accountability from partners for block grants. (Rugendyke and Zivetz, 1991:156)

The reality is there is money available for community development, for aid and development...the issue is that if Christian mission is absorbed totally into the following of the aid dollar, and if the Christian aid agencies don’t keep themselves honest in continuing to do their theological work, and their missiological work, and the money in the rest of the church is declining for all sorts of reasons, I think we could be headed to a ‘crisis’ aberration in our understanding of mission. (Carolyn, 3rd November 2004)

Introduction The question for the third cycle of inquiry was: “how do we make space to breathe?”, in other words, how do we find a liminal space between the two Programs in which to hold together their different intentions? The answer to this was explored during the course of the third cycle, but remains an ongoing question for the organisation to answer. What became clear during the third cycle was that ABM’s identity as a mission agency was the key to its effectiveness as a development agency, and that maintaining development activities within ABM required the organisation to hold firmly to its missiological foundation. In other words, that which made ABM strong as a development agency was actually its mission paradigm. Within the four-month period of the third and last cycle of

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inquiry, what we began to explore were ways in which ABM might build bridges which could hold together the two Programs as each expanded. The context within which this occurred included the final preparations for, and the assessment of, ABM’s application to AusAID for full accreditation. In addition the CPP, which had taken nearly 18 months to develop, was launched formally in Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea, in December 2004, in the very last week of fieldwork. It thus framed this research project, being the catalyst for its development, forming a ground out of which numerous questions arose, and becoming operational just as the fieldwork finished.

This chapter examines the issue of ABM’s relationships to its stakeholders - to government, to the Church, to ABM’s partners – in the context of ABM’s increasing involvement in the development sector and the responses which the agency is making in light of its growing development profile.

The influence of the aid sector on ABM Rugendyke had written in 1994: Despite this (perceived) growing professionalism [within AIDAB] and the benefits the ongoing relationship with AIDAB offers ABM, the agency is not prepared to sacrifice its traditional grass roots base of Anglican parishioners, and is not prepared to allow its direction as a missionary Board of the Anglican Church to be moulded by its new involvement with AIDAB (Rugendyke 1994:218).

Clearly the organisation had moved on since 1994; however, the question of how ABM might be ‘moulded’ by its relationship with the government was still a pertinent one. It may be that ABM’s entry into the development sector represents a subtle shift from a concern for the mission of the Church to a concern for organisational sustainability and self-perpetuation. The early acknowledgement that ABM had sought government funding as an opportunity to improve its bottom line suggests that, at least in the early days, the theological motivation had

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not been uppermost. The moves which ABM had made since the Nichols Review in 1997 – professionalising its staff, articulating its values and strategic aims for the ComDev Program, seeking to create administrative best practice – had all been done to allow the organisation to act with integrity within the development sector. By 2004, ABM had a visibility and an authority within the Australian aid sector which was disproportionate to its size. Yet the theological and philosophical underpinnings of development still seemed to sit uneasily within the organisation. The tension which was produced by the structural separation of the two Programs, while acknowledged to be potentially creative by all staff, was also potentially divisive to the organisation’s sense of itself. The re-structure had created two operational areas each of which related to partner churches differently, required different forms of project applications, reporting and evaluation, and each of which required different degrees of support from ABM administrative and promotional staff. This sometimes led to confusion on the part of partners who weren’t always sure why ABM required different information from different people, as well as among ABM staff some of whom weren’t always sure why one team required more (or less) information than the other.

The work which ABM needed to do now was to articulate its theology of development in ways which allowed the organisation to assert control of its ideological basis for development rather than being ‘moulded’ by contemporary development trends. Whether participation in the global aid sector is something that can be theologically justified remains to be seen. I wrote in my fieldnotes on 11 October: Perhaps there is a tension between ComDev and E&CS for this very reason – that ComDev challenges the presuppositions by which ABM is operating. ComDev says, the church is not just doing this for God, we are doing this for the government and the Australian community. We are not just accountable for the church’s mission, we are accountable for the [aid] system we are creating with Codes of Conduct and professionalisation and

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industry development. Is this really part of God’s mission or is this a distraction?

ABM’s identity is derived from its relationships with the Anglican Church of Australia and its overseas Anglican partners; its relationship with AusAID is a newer one, and a source of procedural legitimacy (Atack, 1999) for its development work. However, its moral authority is derived from its relationships with the church. ABM must retain those relationships because to diminish them in seeking procedural legitimacy through the aid sector would be to undermine the relationships which make it effective as a development agency in the first place. For that reason, an issue such as the amount of time ComDev staff are able to spend interacting with and visiting church members around the country becomes more than an issue of sharing the travel duties amongst the staff. It becomes essential for grounding the understanding of ComDev within the context and culture of Anglican mission. It also becomes essential for grounding the understanding of the wider church that ABM undertakes a diverse range of activities; if the ComDev staff are not visible out amongst supporters, it becomes easy for people to focus more on the E&CS side of the organisation, or to misunderstand the purpose of activities. For instance, one concern I heard expressed by supporters was that “ABM had stopped preaching the Gospel” because of its work in the development arena. While this is clearly not true, it reflected a concern that ABM had in some way ‘sold out’ to government, and was no longer pursuing its founding purpose. Increasing the interaction of ComDev staff among the church constituency is thus more than a promotional exercise, but helps to ensure that development activities are undertaken in the context of ABM’s relationship to the wider Anglican church.

In conversation with Sophie, she returned to the notion of intentionality which had been discussed by the group in the second cycle. She felt that the question which we were exploring was about the intentionality of ABM’s Programs. Her

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perspective was that ComDev was “definitely not about articulating the Gospel, but about living out the Gospel’s call to justice”. The overarching question for Sophie was about values and articulating purpose. We agreed that ComDev had the potential to outgrow E&CS and that in some ways the organisation holds ComDev back in order to keep the balance.

The influence of the relationship with the aid sector is thus two-fold. Its accountability requirements are seen to confer procedural legitimacy on the organisation, which is perceived to be a positive enhancement to ABM’s own administrative and financial procedures. At the same time, the culture of the aid sector, while sharing certain values with a faith-based organisation such as ABM, is also shaped by a different theoretical and public policy perspective. The need to articulate the organisation’s values so that it can shape its Community Development Program in its own terms may be part of the solution to managing the growth of the Program.

Church as location of mission identity In another meeting a few weeks later John pointed out that when he interacts with the aid sector he is understood to be working within a development agency, but when he goes to visit churches he is accepted as part of a mission agency. The Church understands ABM in terms of its place within the structures of the national Anglican Church. Church supporters perceive the work of ABM in the context of Christian mission. By contrast, government relates to ABM as a development agency, while recognising that ABM is part of the Church and therefore representative of a particular constituency. At the same time, John in himself is representative of the church; as a priest working in development, he occupies a liminal space between two cultures, and finds himself representing each to the other.

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In conversation in October, Geoff concurred that a lot of people in the pews might not see ABM as a development agency but as a mission agency, although he did think that many supporters were more comfortable with the idea of community development activities than they were with evangelism. He alluded to ‘liberal nervousness’ about evangelism and the idea of conversion; many Anglicans, especially Anglo-Catholic Anglicans38, were more comfortable with social justice activities which did not focus on overt Christian witness. In this regard, ABM’s Community Development Program fills a need by providing people who seek to support the church with an opportunity to fund activities seen as meaningful, but not too religious. Its popular support among Australian Anglicans is evidenced by the yearly increase in the level of giving across the country. ComDev is growing not only because of the support it receives from government, but because of its relevance to Australian Anglicans, ABM’s traditional support base.

ABM has an accountability to the Anglican Church of Australia, by which it is constituted and within which it carries the Church’s history and tradition of mission. In representing the Anglican Church of Australia to Anglican churches overseas and to indigenous Australians, ABM has a responsibility to reflect the culture and values of the church. It also has the mandate to reflect back to the church its understanding of mission and to challenge the church to engage more fully in God’s mission of bringing hope to the world. Through the integrity of its relationship to the Church, ABM gains its moral legitimacy to speak on issues of justice and community well-being, and to seek new opportunities to change the world. This makes the relationship with the Church an essential one, not just for

38 The term Anglo-Catholicism was used as early as the 17th century, but is generally considered to apply to those following the Tractarian Movement of the 1830s, which developed in Oxford (and is also called the Oxford Movement) and which held a high doctrine of the sacramental life and ecclesiastical structures of the Church. In the later 19th century, a liberal Anglo-Catholicism evolved which was radical in its theology and joined with more socialist and modernising tendencies, including an emphasis on social action as an expression of the Gospel. ABM was founded by followers of the Oxford Movement and has been traditionally associated with the Anglo-Catholic wing of the Church. Cross, F. L. and Livingstone, E. A. (Eds.) 1997, The Oxford dictionary of the Christian Church, Oxford University Press, Oxford.. p. 69

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the E&CS Program but for the ComDev Program as well. As all the research team affirmed, ABM’s holistic mission requires both aspects of its work to be seen as mission and, therefore, to reflect the ethos of the Anglican Church.

Partnership in mission and development The relationships which ABM has with its partner churches overseas, and with the indigenous communities in Australia, also become a key foundation for ABM’s identity as a mission agency. These relationships, and the work which ABM supports in partnership with these communities, provide a legitimacy of meaning for ABM. The stories which ABM tells in its literature and its public representations of itself are representations of these relationships and the organisation’s belief in its work as inherently meaningful. In one issue of the Partners magazine (May 2004), for instance, there are stories about ABM’s support for HIV/AIDS awareness programs on page 3-5 (“your tax deductible gift will save lives!”); profiles of the Anglican indigenous leaders who are ministering within their own communities in Australia on pages 8-9 (“help ABM build leaders for the future”); and a story about the first grade 12 graduation ceremony at the Holy Name School in PNG on page 11-12 (“in partnership with the school...ABM is supporting this tax-deductible project which seeks to improve quality education at Holy Name Grammar School”). Each representation of these worthwhile and important projects is also a representation of ABM’s worth and importance as a facilitating agency for the mission of the Australian Church.

ABM has moved a long way from its earlier, traditional model of a missionary sending agency. At its height in the mid-20th century, ABM had its own training school in Sydney for missionaries who spent ten months preparing for the work they were to undertake overseas. ABM now sees its role as equipping its partners to be strong and self-sufficient churches themselves. However, to be in true partnership ABM and the Anglican Church of Australia must also recognise their

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own needs and the ways in which they can learn from partner churches. ABM is facilitating this emerging change in relationship in a number of ways: through the establishment of exchange programs where clergy from partner churches come to work in Anglican parishes in Australia for several months; through consultation processes with partners; and through seeking ways to involve the voices of partner churches in the governance structures of ABM. It is fair to say that the partnerships are not true and equal partnerships. As Geoff noted, there is an immediate inequity due to the fact that ABM provides (and can withhold) money to its partners. ABM is working to build relationships of mutuality and reciprocity wherever it can; to do so is another expression of ABM’s values. However, it is also essential for its legitimacy and credibility as a mission and development agency that it attends to these important qualities within the relationship.

ABM’s accountability to a partnership approach with our partner churches and to their needs is an important check to the temptation to seek organisational self- perpetuation. Sophie commented that, I think part of our effectiveness, or our ability to be realistic and keep an eye on actually what we are doing without self- perpetuating is this partnership and relationships around that sort of thing, because it’s so important to us being able to do real work, that really needed work...

John gave an example of how we had managed this challenge by structuring the new ABM Liaison Officer position for the ECP as a Philippines-based position located within the ECP offices, although it is funded and managed by ABM. This was a deliberate decision as opposed to funding another Australian-based position within the Sydney office. John stated, “we don’t feel we’re really on about growing ABM’s capacity other than being able to effectively work with our partners.” Funding a position in the Philippines is seen as capacity-building for

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the ECP as well as demonstrating that ABM’s concern is for their sustainability, not our own.

During the third cycle, I suggested that ABM had two different identities which it presented to two different constituencies: ABM was a mission agency to the church, and a development agency to the aid sector (and something of both to our partners). This notion was contested by all during our reflection meeting in November, the general consensus being that ABM presented facets of its work to different stakeholder groups, but held in common one organisational identity. It was affirmed that ABM’s identity as a mission agency was broad enough to encompass ‘holistic mission’ which served to include evangelism and church support activities as well as development activities, as John summed up:“So we have a variety of stakeholders, we’ve got two facets of the organisation, and for certain stakeholders we highlight particular facets, one of the facets or the other, or sometimes it’s all.”

Is essence, ABM is now accountable to three different stakeholder groups: to the church, its historic constituency; to the government, through accreditation and participation in the development sector; and to its partner churches, through collegial relationships based upon a shared faith tradition and history. Each stakeholder group provides ABM with an essential quality of legitimacy, and requires a corresponding accountability. The intentionality with which ABM engages with each group will also guide the direction in which those relationships develop. Once again, the grounding for this intentionality must come from an agreed and articulated understanding of values and identity.

The relationship with AusAID was particularly visible within this period of the research because of the accreditation review, and demonstrated the changes which had taken place within ABM since its early ventures into development activities.

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The accreditation review AusAID’s accreditation review of ABM took place from September through December 2004. At the end of September, all required documentation (application, organisational profile, financial information, etc.) was sent to AusAID for an initial review of the application. On passing that assessment, an Organisational Review in Australia (ORA) was arranged for the end of October, at which time three assessors spent two days within the ABM office. On receiving a positive review of office procedures and documentation, and following interviews and presentations by staff and volunteers, the assessors approved the next stage, the Organisational Review Overseas (ORO), which was conducted in December by two assessors who visited ABM-funded projects in the Philippines, and interviewed representatives of the partner church, the Episcopal Church of the Philippines. ABM was granted full accreditation at a meeting of AusAID’s Committee for Development Cooperation in March 2005.

The mood in the office on the afternoon of 26th October, 2004, following the ORA, was that of stunned delight. The organisation had been working towards full accreditation by AusAID ever since its first application for base accreditation in 1998. After years of redesigning internal structures, including separating financial and reporting systems, improving monitoring and evaluation processes, and developing documented policies and procedures, it was almost a surprise to find the first phase of the review process completed. The ease of the review itself was a tribute to John and Sophie’s preparation; John’s extensive experience as a reviewer himself, gained in the intervening years since the initial accreditation review in 1998, assisted him in preparing what the reviewers would seek to find when they visited the office. It was not just John and Sophie, however, who contributed to the positive outcome; every staff member, in their own way, had

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been assisting the organisation in the move to accreditation through the development of sound administrative and operational systems.

The process of preparing for accreditation itself was perceived to be a positive experience. Geoff commented in the November reflection meeting that when the Board decided that yes, we would get serious about this, one of the reasons was that the accreditation process and the link with AusAID and ACFID would not be a negative for the organisation but would actually contribute to the organisation being better. And I think our experience so far would indicate that.

The organisation had come a long way since Rugendyke (1994) noted that ABM, as an arm of the Anglican Church, had not been subject to requirements for accountability in the way that other NGOs competing in the marketplace were required to acquit themselves. In other words, ABM had been somewhat protected as an agency within the church, and its move into development work required the organisation to re-examine its organisational and decision-making processes. The satisfactory progression through the AusAID review process laid to rest many of the cautions expressed by Rugendyke’s earlier research, and suggested that ABM had moved to a new standard of operation. Using Korten’s (1987:148) typology, ABM was no longer a First Generation agency (primarily direct relief and welfare services), but was now somewhere between a Second and Third Generation NGO (between small-scale local development and sustainable systems development).

At the research team’s November reflection meeting, the success of the ORA led John to refer back to Rugendyke’s (1994, 1991) earlier research regarding ABM. Rugendyke had written: Perhaps most striking to the observer is the impact of the availability of government funding on ABM. While only a small percentage of ABM’s total funding has been received from AIDAB, the agency accepted AIDAB’s approach to project aid as being ‘more professional’ and adopted AIDAB’s operational style

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before fully articulating its own philosophy of development...It is clear that ABM automatically adopted AIDAB selection criteria, monitoring and evaluation procedures in relation to its own development projects. ABM is now in an uncomfortable position, realising that acceptance of AIDAB funding and adoption of the ‘AIDAB approach’ brought a new set of responsibilities and problems (1994:221-222).

While it may have been true that ABM had adopted a received approach to development, over the intervening years ABM had sought, and was still seeking, to develop its own understanding of how development activities fit into the culture and values of the Anglican church. John noted that this was true not only for ABM but for our partner church in the Philippines, the ECP: “in the Philippines, where we’ve got perhaps the most advanced of the community development programs, they themselves have been talking about the need to actually look at the two things as they sit together.”

Part of the assessment for full accreditation with AusAID was the Organisational Review Overseas. John went to the Philippines at the beginning of December to accompany the AusAID reviewers on a visit to several projects supported by ABM and undertaken by ABM’s partner church, the Episcopal Church of the Philippines. The reviewers interviewed the ECP’s regional Development Officers and villagers who benefited from various ABM-funded projects, as well as assessing financial statements and record-keeping. Through this process, AusAID was satisfied that the relationship which ABM claimed to have with the ECP was a genuine partnership.

Like the ECP, ABM now has to address the impact of the development sector on its work, and to work carefully to maintain the balance between the two. Following again the metaphor of breathing given in chapter seven, to spend too much time inhaling would be to miss the necessary opportunity to exhale: to go

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too far towards the development sector might be to lose the identity inherent in the relationship with the Church. It’s good to have ...an examining approach to the community development because of the reality that it is an industry, and the reality that through the government funding government applies social control and is not involved in this work out of the goodness of its collective heart but for other agendas... (Geoff)

While ABM seeks to sustain itself in order to do work which it perceives as necessary, both in church support and in development, it was also agreed at the November reflection meeting that there was a danger associated with unfettered growth. We want to grow, but the danger seems to me – you tend then to want to preserve your bigness and not be prepared to make hard decisions if the quality of what’s happening is not appropriate, and you just can’t pay attention to the detail, and there’s too much at stake, too many individual reputations at stake. (Geoff)

Once again, the notion of accountability requires ABM to continually re-assess the implications of its own growth and development. Balancing the need for the organisation to grow to be able to accommodate the increased workload, and the need for the organisation to send as much money overseas as possible, means that at each step of the way the intention of the growth needs to be examined.

This issue is demonstrated by ABM’s involvement in the CPP. It was expected that the increase in funding available within this program as a result of receiving full accreditation would mean that there would be an additional staff person required in the Community Development Program. In addition, the growth of the program in the Philippines as well as the establishment of new programs (such as the 2004 implementation of the Solomon Islands project) would require another full-time position, in order to free John to manage the increased strategic and administrative requirements resulting from the growth in the overall Program. Thus within a year it was expected that the Program requirements would double

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ComDev’s staff. The questions about maintaining balance and identity of the organisation took on a new immediacy when it was noted that these projected increases in staffing would mean that the organisation had nearly outgrown its offices, less than two years after moving into them in December 2003.

Heeding the call for structural justice Underlying this genuine desire to see our partner churches develop the capacity to be self-sufficient and self-sustaining, however, is a dilemma which faces all Christian NGOs. Real poverty alleviation requires more than development aid; it requires the sharing of power between the ‘developed’ and the ‘developing’ world (Bosch, 1991, Brueggemann, 2001, Hilhorst, 2003, Loy, 2003). As a supporter of indigenous rights in the Philippines has written: “Genuine development is distributive in terms of economic benefits, and participatory and democratic in terms of process and politics” (Tanada, 1990:xiv). ABM is seeking to serve its partner churches; however, it now does so partially within a globalised aid industry system which has its own momentum. Placing ‘poverty reduction’ within the mission statement, as was discussed at the January meeting (see chapter six), guarantees our acceptability within the system, but does nothing to change the structural causes of the problems we are seeking to alleviate. Whereas Christian mission might call us to work with our partner church to challenge the unjust structures of society which create and perpetuate poverty, there is potentially a tension working within a politically-driven aid sector. As Dichter (2003:237) wrote: “The majority of the books and articles on development proscribe, advise, counsel, and tinker without the least self-consciousness about the deep contradictions inherent in the way we have cast the endeavor...No one draws what should be at least one possible conclusion – that we are fundamentally on the wrong track and should close down the industry as we know it.”

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In my own reading, I had come to feel that an inherent contradiction within ABM was the Christian call to challenge injustice and the seductive call to engage in what can be seen as an heroic development sector. The Christian church worldwide can and does undertake development activities, on their own and in locally relevant and respectful ways, without always identifying these activities as part of the development industry. Some of these are more successful than others, and there have been numerous cases of instances where Christian efforts to help have been damaging because of an overt proselytisation (see, for example, Economist, 2004b). On the other hand, ABM had itself been supporting development activities for years, while understanding them to be a part of Christian mission. Joining the development sector had been identified by the Board and staff as a positive move in terms of improved accountability and administrative excellence. I wondered whether it was also the case that ABM needed to be aware of the inherent danger of aligning oneself too closely with a system which operated from different motivations, in which we are working together with “common objectives for divergent purposes” (Consultation report, 1999:400). I shared this with the group at our meeting in November, after Carolyn again queried whether there was too clear a separation between the two Programs. I’m questioning the effectiveness of the development sector...whether it’s made things better, whether it’s made things worse, and whether we as Christian agencies who have entered into that with all the language that we have about professionalisation and effectiveness and all of those things that we talk about, whether in some ways we are compromising ourselves by that in going down the development sector. (Linda)

In my own thinking, then, I had moved from a naive enthusiasm for the work of the ComDev Program to a more nuanced understanding of the centrality of ABM’s articulation of Christian mission for its effectiveness as a development agency. Intentionality thus becomes a finely tuned articulation of the motivation for action.

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The Church Partnership Program (CPP) Throughout the year, the CPP had formed a background theme, as the period of planning and consultation progressed. By the third research cycle, it was certain that the PNG Government had agreed to proceed with the program and that there would be a formal launch to the program in December 2004. I travelled with John Deane to PNG twice in August and September for consultation meetings with the PNG church partners, first with representatives of the Anglican Church, and in the second meeting with representatives of the seven participating PNG churches and their Australian NGO counterparts. It was clear in both consultations that this was a new process for the church(es) in PNG as well as for the Australian NGOs. In the Anglican consultation, AusAID funding had allowed the church to gather people from all over PNG (there were about 40 people in attendance), many of whom had not met before. It was the first time such a disparate group had been asked to reflect together on the question of priorities for the church in improving life in PNG. In the rich and sometimes heated conversations which followed over several days, the group identified very concrete avenues for strengthening the church’s ability to care for the community. These were grouped under the headings of health, education, and HIV/AIDS. This last heading was especially important as PNG leads the Pacific nations in having the highest number of people identified with the HIV virus (Hriehwazi, 2004). The Anglican Church in PNG has been at the forefront of efforts in PNG to raise awareness of HIV/AIDS and its prevention (Stokes, 2003). The second consultation, of seven mainstream Christian churches in PNG and their Australian NGO counterparts, was also an innovation in that it was the first time that the PNG churches had considered on such a large scale new ways of working together and sharing knowledge and experience.

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These two consultations occurred in a climate of suspicion and some anger regarding Australia’s new and assertive style of intervention in PNG and the Pacific. During our visit, the national newspaper carried articles which discussed topics such as “State sovereignty and legitimacy” (Okole, 2004), Australia’s aid contributions to PNG (Gomez, 2004a, Gomez, 2004b), and the constitutional validity of Australia’s Enhanced Cooperation Program (The National, 2004). It was therefore significant that the novel CPP, which is small by the scale of Australia’s level of aid to PNG and shaped not with the rhetoric of development but in the language of the people from the churches, was developing in a spirit of hope and with a sense of shared responsibility. AusAID had given unprecedented leeway to the Australian NGOs and their church partners to design and implement this program, in the hope that this will be more effective than delivering aid through the usual bureaucratic channels. At the same time, the size of the program and the availability of funding for institutional capacity strengthening require that the CPP be implemented carefully so that aid does not swamp the churches’ capacity to deliver on the agreed outcomes. An additional, and significant, concern is that the church, in strengthening its capacity through the AusAID program, does not lose sight of its fundamental aims in the wake of development funding.

The CPP demonstrates the intersection of all the five themes (see page 131) which emerged from the first cycle of the research, and which wove through the year’s fieldwork. It required ABM to reflect upon its spiritual perspective on development in order to dissociate institutional capacity building for development from existing church capacity building activities (such as leadership training) undertaken by Evangelism & Church Support. The CPP itself arose from the vitality of Christian life in PNG, as a result of the long mission history of the Christian churches in that country and, in ABM’s case, the partnership relationship still existing between the Anglican churches in Australia and PNG;

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the ways in which Christianity and culture are intertwined in PNG (Stein-Holmes, 2003) make the churches a strong component of society and primary providers of essential services. ABM’s relationship to the aid sector is demonstrated through its position as a founding agency for the CPP, as a result of its participation in the NGO Peer Review; the CPP is itself a tangible demonstration of the ways in which faith-based agencies have themselves influenced the aid sector and the development of policy. ABM’s organisational culture is changing to meet the demands of a closer involvement with the aid sector and, as a result of the CPP, will need to change again to accommodate the growing program and its demands on staff and on an increased presence in PNG. Finally, the CPP is tangible evidence of a new attitude within Australian and global politics, which perceives potential benefits from closer cooperation with faith-based agencies (see for instance, Black et al., 2004). In Australia’s case specifically, this new attitude is forged out of a determination to improve the political and social situation in PNG (AusAID, 2004, AusAID, 2002, House of Representatives, 2005).

Organisational transition The November meeting marked the ending of the research inquiry, but it also occurred at the beginning of a significant transition for the organisation. On the day before the research reflection meeting, Geoff Smith announced his resignation as National Director. After four and a half years in the position, he had decided to return to parish ministry. During his tenure, Geoff oversaw the establishment of the new organisational structure, nurtured a stable and productive team, and fostered an atmosphere of energy and vitality within the organisation, which lead inevitably to the growth of the organisation’s finances and capacity. It had been a time of significant change, and some felt that the organisation had just started to settle down and become comfortable. “Fragile and vulnerable” were words one staff member used in describing the organisation

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following the announcement. The organisation had reached a place of stability, but was now facing a period of transition and uncertainty.

It was significant, then, that in the final research reflection meeting one of the questions which arose was how to carry forward the process of organisational learning. As part of the closing ritual of the research year, I suggested that the group do a simplified version of the Most Significant Change methodology (Davies, 1996). This methodology uses stories as a means of evaluating the impact of development projects on local villagers, and was familiar to John and Sophie because it was being used as part of the evaluation process for the CPP. The others agreed to this, and we each spent a few minutes writing a story or paragraph illustrating what, for us, was the most significant effect of the research. After a brief period, we each read out our representation and what it had meant for us.

For Geoff, the most significant moment was the conversation in August where the single identity of the organisation was affirmed. “Oftentimes it’s difficult, the two sides, the two facets of the organisation have tended in my experience not to communicate well, and I thought the last meeting, the August one, moved us significantly forward in that process.”

For Sophie, it was the space for reflection and listening: “The most significant thing for me has been the space that’s been created for reflection and listening and dialogue – for communication – but which has also challenged the organisation’s understanding of itself, and it’s promoted an openness to learning about itself.”

I felt that the research had made me a better volunteer, “I’ve become more informed as a person who supports ABM as to who we are, what we do, why we

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do it, which I think makes me better able to contribute to ABM as a person on the Development Committee, and also to articulate ABM to other people in the church and not in the church...to be able to think through more carefully and clearly about who we are and what we do.”

John had gained a new appreciation of ABM’s history, “I’d say that especially the conversations that we had fairly early on in the piece helped me really appreciate the story of ABM a lot more. I hadn’t done a lot of thinking about the past so much because the present is pretty busy, but there are a lot of stories about ABM and how ABM came to be, and its involvement in PNG and in Melanesia, all sorts of things, and that was really important because it helped me to set the present into a context...and that’s been quite significant for me.”

Carolyn agreed with Sophie that the space for reflection had been “extraordinarily valuable”, adding that “it was really valuable that we talked, and I think we need to find the space to keep the conversation going, because whilst I know that other people do their own theology and reading and reflection…there’s something quite different about the dynamic of doing that together.”

It was agreed that the organised discussions, structured by the research process, had provided staff with ‘breathing space’ to explore foundational issues and to learn together. The metaphor of breathing had become associated with a number of different meanings since it was first proposed. There was that notion of balance: of exhaling and inhaling. There was also the notion of breathing space, with the meaning of creating a liminal space between the two Programs where a common theology could be explored, but also expanding the space (breathing deeply) in which the staff of the two Programs could meet to reflect together and find solutions to the structural and philosophical challenges which they faced.

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There was an additional connotation which was sometimes expressed as well, that of breathing together, implying harmony and unity of purpose.

It was noted that maintaining good communication was not only an issue between the ComDev and E&CS Programs, but also between the Program staff (who travel frequently and are often unavailable) and the administrative staff who report daily to the office, as well as between the staff and the volunteers on committees and the Board. Geoff summarised by saying, These conversations have been very useful because they’ve been conversations, and because whether you intended to or not you’ve provoked response and reaction...because you can get in the habit of saying something and if no one challenges you, and it makes sense from your perspective, it almost becomes like – like a mantra, so it’s very useful to have someone else calling those warmly held things into question.

So at the end of the inquiry, the group had gathered within itself the primary meaning of its experience, particularly in terms of the increased communication afforded by the process. As Heron and Reason (1997:3) have written: “To experience anything is to participate in it, and to participate is both to mould and to encounter, hence experiential reality is always subjective-objective.” Each group member’s participation enriched the experience of the others, who in turn participated in, and experienced, the growth of the group in its ability to reflect and learn together. In this way, each member created and internalised their own primary meaning which they constructed from their experience, and influenced their colleagues’ process of doing the same thing. Individually and collectively we gained a deepened understanding of the way in which the organisation conceptualised holistic mission, and what it meant for our work, in each of our roles, within ABM. The inquiry process did not solve the tension between the two Programs, nor the differences in operating styles between staff members. What it did do was to create a space in which these differences could be recognised and debated within the bounds of a collective commitment to the aims

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of the organisation. At the end of the year of fieldwork, the research also seemed to provide an impetus for staff within ABM to continue the process of organisational learning through ongoing discussion and reflection. This was borne out in later application of the research at Board, senior staff, and ComDev team levels, which will be discussed in succeeding chapters.

Summary The question “How do we make space to breathe?” had led us to consider the importance of intention in our activities. The notion of intentionality is integrally linked to issues of accountability and legitimacy, as expressed through ABM’s relationships with its three key stakeholder groups: the Anglican Church of Australia, ABM’s partners in overseas Anglican churches and in Australian indigenous communities, and the Australian aid sector. The intention with which action is undertaken is based upon the legitimacy with which the organisation acts, either as representative of the Anglican Church, as mission agency, as agency in partnership, as development agency. These facets of ABM’s identity are themselves based on relationships of accountability. Thus all of ABM’s work is grounded at a number of levels in relationship. It is in these interactions that norms of culture and identity are negotiated, and in which values are expressed.

It was affirmed at the final meeting in November that the year of inquiry contributed to ABM in the following ways: • the inquiry process had provided an opportunity for ComDev staff to engage more deeply with questions of development and effectiveness; • it had highlighted the need for additional training or input into the Development Committee, in order to enhance their role as a policy- making body;

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• it had allowed staff across the two Programs to consider together what was meant by ‘holistic mission’ and to increase communication across the two Programs; and • it had demonstrated a learning process which staff were keen to continue after the research was completed.

A transformational cooperative inquiry will generate a new, co-constructed understanding of reality, and to the extent to which my co-researchers can recognise in the three previous chapters their experience of the year’s work, I have been able to articulate a congruent understanding of how we have learned together as a group. However, as Heron (1996:175) argues, a co-constructed view of reality in which all participants completely agreed with each other would be suspect, as each person brings to the world their own particular lens of experience, perception, and need. What is presented within this thesis is my own crafting of my experience as part of the inquiry cycles. My perceptions of the year will differ from that of my colleagues because of the different positions which we occupied within the organisation and thus the different perspectives which we brought into the research. Our individual personalities and our own histories are also present in the research, and will lead us each to bring different aspects of the research into the foreground. Thus, cooperative research findings will also demonstrate a margin of ambiguity which allows for difference and consensus to stand together. In the next chapter, my co-researchers speak in their own voices regarding their perspectives of the inquiry process and the lessons learned from it. Their words are their own and are reproduced as they have provided them. Also included in the chapter is my own personal reflection on my experience as researcher.

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Key points:

• Relationships with stakeholders form the space in which culture and identity are negotiated. • Involvement with the aid sector and accreditation by AusAID create a new facet of ABM’s identity, which itself is being negotiated within its understanding of itself as a mission agency. • Intentionality is formed out of values and culture, and grounded in relationships which provide legitimacy and require accountability. • The cooperative inquiry method created a useful space for organisational learning, which all participants expressed a desire to continue.

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Chapter Nine: Personal reflections on the research

For a science of persons as agents, my considered view of your reality without consulting you is a very different matter from our considered view of our reality...Persons are language creators who in relation symbolize a shared vision and experience (Heron, 1996:27).

In the spirit of cooperative inquiry, undertaken within the constraints of an academic thesis, this chapter attempts to include other voices in the process of co- creation of knowledge. In including the writings of my co-researchers, I am also attempting to be cognisant of the principles of feminist research regarding reciprocity, and to strengthen the trustworthiness of the account presented here (Harrison et al., 2001). As discussed in chapter four, the notion of reciprocity is built into the method of cooperative inquiry in its explicitly inclusive process from designing through to analysing the research. While clearly there is an inequity inherent in the fact that I am the primary researcher and this thesis is my work, it is also important to honour the contribution and participation of those with whom I worked closely throughout the year, and without whom the research would not have been possible in this form.

As noted earlier, John, Sophie and I functioned as a small inquiry team throughout the year. Geoff and Carolyn joined us and contributed to the co- creation of knowledge as we reflected together on the questions which arose during the year. Heron’s (1996) delineation of two forms of outcome, primary knowledge and secondary knowledge, is apposite here. The primary learning which resulted from our year of research resides within the hearts, minds and experiences of all of us; that is, the most important outcomes of the research remain with the team and are expressed within our changed or enhanced praxis. The secondary knowledge is that which is expressed through my articulation of

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the research experience, which is inevitably a somewhat more distanced expression of that which was gained through lived experience.

The previous three chapters reported our co-created learning, seen through the lens of my own perceptions and analysis. As the doctoral researcher I bear the responsibility for analysing and presenting the data. Given the intention of cooperative inquiry to be truly collegial in its design and implementation, however, I invited my colleagues to read the last three chapters and to provide their comments and perspectives as to the year’s research. In reading and responding to my representation of our year of inquiry together, my colleagues continue to participate in our shared learning experience. In this chapter, each of us speaks in our own voice to provide a personal reflection on the experience of the research, and the meaning which we made, individually or collectively, in the course of our inquiry.

John Deane writes: I am happy to offer a response to the material which evolved out of the various inquiry cycles. Generally, I found the flexibility which the methodology permitted to be beneficial and easy to work with. I appreciated the opportunity to participate and the experience was rewarding. It was good to be listened to and challenged. The work at ABM is quite intense for all staff and opportunities to stop and reflect are not always easy to identify.

It was also very helpful that Linda came with some real knowledge of the organisation and an understanding of the church. I believe that the material presents an authentic ‘snapshot’ of the organisation, which captures a number of its strengths along with some tensions. The historical research, especially in respect of relationships with partners and the emergence of ComDev, has given me an increased understanding as to why and how we are what we are.

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The contemporary research itself has highlighted for me the difference in cultures which exists between ‘church’, ‘government’ and the development sector. Many of these cultural issues and tensions have been well documented. However, I would note that the role and influence of ABM’s development NGO peers do not appear as strongly as I believe is warranted. I acknowledge that much of the focus during Linda’s research time with ABM has been on the CPP and accreditation where the primary relationship is with AusAID. However, the ACFID Code of Conduct, which has been devised by the development NGO sector to set standards for the sector, illustrates that ABM’s involvement in community development means that it has an accountability to its NGO development peers. Similarly, the AusAID accreditation criteria have been devised and are overseen by a joint AusAID-NGO Committee (the Committee for Development Cooperation) where the development NGO voice has been fairly powerful. In my experience much of the drive on the separation of evangelism and development has come from the development NGO network – particularly as a response to the danger posed to all overseas development workers and the political ramifications which ensue when evangelistic motives are proved or strongly suspected as guiding the actions of a few.

I would also like to comment on the use of the word polarity. I can appreciate the application of the term in respect of an organisational understanding and management. However, I would like to be sure that this does not lead us down the path of seeing E&CS and ComDev as opposites or confining mission to the spectrum which spreads from one to the other. From my perspective they are both imperfect and transient modalities which each offer a contemporary and contextual participation in God’s mission.

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As I read the research several issues suggested themselves to me and I believe that they continue to be work-in-progress: • Is ABM clear about its purpose? Does intention match practice? • Who are ABM’s stakeholders and how are their voices heard? • Who are the ‘people of God’? • How do evangelism, development, freedom of choice and vulnerability relate to each other? • Can we successfully redefine words such as mission, evangelism etc. to suit our purpose or are we constrained by the broader usage of such terms? • What permission is there for non-ABM players (e.g. partners, AusAID and other development NGOs) to shape ABM practice? • Is challenging unjust structures the same as working to change unjust structures?

During the inquiry process the need for breathing space was identified. I believe that the research will help ABM in finding the space and in the breathing.

Sophie Davies writes: This was the first time I had been involved in a research process of cooperative inquiry. The process meant that I had a real stake in the outcome of the research, as I had been involved from the beginning. I also felt that I could follow and understand the theme changes as they happened because they both were influenced by me as a participant and in turn exerted influence on me as each emerging theme caused me to reflect more deeply on ABM and our work.

I found the process created a space for reflection about my work and ABM that I had rarely had time for in the past. Reflecting alongside the researcher gave me the opportunity to see things from an ‘outsider’s’ perspective and challenged me to explain what I do in a meaningful way. Being involved and committed to the

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process meant that comments that came back about the research, and the outcome of it, were important and relevant to me too.

The main thing that emerged for me as the research took shape, was a confirmation of some issues I have also felt ABM needs to deal with in order to move forward, including: • the need to clarify its direction (I strongly agree with the dissection of ABM’s vision/mission, and the lack of clarity shown by the current expression of these (see page 162-165); • confusion in division of work across the organisation; • tension between the departments; and • an artificial equalisation of workload and expression of identity between departments

Many of these issues are expressed through a theme that dominated the research (reflecting its impact on ABM as an organisation), being the division between mission and development, and how we understand these terms. In this thesis, this comes up as ‘holding together the two aspects of its work’ (page 132); ‘articulating one concept of holistic mission’ (page 162), and ‘the extent to which they can be held together is still being discovered’ (page 179). I don’t see that it is essential for ABM to hold both sides together, rather I sometimes see that the effort in maintaining the distinction and balance between the Programs creates a barrier to the work that both departments seek to do. Although the tension between the Programs could lead to creativity, my experience is that it can be counterproductive due to the effort that goes into compartmentalising our work and identity, which seems to have run-on effects on our ability to be effective.

I feel that by calling its work ‘holistic mission’, ABM is attempting to create a space for two quite different Programs, but I wonder whether this is possible

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given the different aims, methods, and understandings within the two Programs. This issue takes on an even greater presence in the context of full accreditation. If the division between evangelism and development has been driven purely by a need to be accredited, it is no wonder that we struggle with it. This would mean it has been pushed externally rather than growing organically as a result of our values, as occurs in our partner organisations, such as the ECP and ACPNG. I wonder whether this is the root of our problem, which is further exacerbated by a less than clear public description of why theologically ABM is involved in community development. Such a description is overdue and may take us past the debates about what mission covers within the ABM context. More positively, the gaining of full accreditation may be the fillip ABM needs to examine its underlying values and create a modern expression of its identity and an organic understanding of how it goes about its mission.

Geoff Smith writes: One of the first things I became aware of when I became National Director in August 2000 was that a proposal to separately incorporate Community Development away from ABM was on the cards. I was very concerned about this as I felt it would lead to a reducing of ABM’s notion of holistic mission. I did some research and there did not appear to be any reason why we couldn’t remain one organisation and still achieve AusAID accreditation. I put this to the ABM Standing Committee (as it was then) late in 2000 and they agreed not to continue the separate incorporation line. The challenge then became to develop a structure which meant that both parts of the organisation (ComDev and E&CS as it became known) remained part of the one ABM but were sufficiently separated to satisfy AusAID requirements. Linda is right to say that the separation was purely to satisfy those requirements. The second challenge then became to keep both arms working together. ComDev had some specific needs, but also it is the case that John was very keen to draw lines which did more and more separate ComDev

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from E&CS. This may well have been because of his concern that the line between the two not be blurred. But managing the other arm (E&CS) was Carolyn who had almost the opposite view-that the two should work together as much as possible and that much of the line drawing was not necessary, in other words John was over-reacting. John and Carolyn are both very talented, passionate and committed people, and ABM’s very positive development since 2000 owes much to their work. However, much of my time and energy was spent trying to keep the two arms working together as much as possible and relationships positive. It was clear that my original assessment - that there was nothing from AusAID’s perspective that precluded having ComDev and E&CS as part of the same organisation - was correct. But the challenge in fact was coming from inside the organisation and not outside at all.

I therefore found the research process very positive, although some hard questions were certainly raised, primarily because it did allow honest discussion about the effectiveness of what we were doing, the shortcomings in our theology, and the positions under-pinning both sides of the work were examined and challenged. It was also extremely valuable to involve the Development Committee in the process, if only to highlight the shortcomings in the actual participation of that body in the decision-making process and the need for education for the Development Committee so that they can more effectively have responsibility for the work on behalf of the Board. This was known before the research and moves were underway to address the issue, but the research certainly moved the issue up another notch.

Even though we spend a lot of time thinking and talking about AusAID I don’t believe it is AusAID that is a threat to ABM continuing as one organisation with two arms-maintaining and demonstrating a genuinely holistic view of mission

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which is actually a gift to the Australian church - but if there is a threat it will come from within the organisation itself.

The engagement of ABM with AusAID in a serious way has been positive for ABM and has allowed ABM, and therefore the Anglican Church of Australia, to influence the sector more than ABM’s size would indicate. It was always my belief that the requirements of AusAID would lead to a much more transparent, ethical and accountable ABM, and I believe that this has in fact been shown to be the case.

Carolyn Kitto writes: I entered the process of this research part way through and due to a major illness and travel was unable to participate as fully as I would have liked. It was a delight for me to be invited to join the process and although the dialogue was at times heated and even stressful its value was enormous.

Christian mission as I understand it has always included the action of the gospel and the preaching of the gospel. In ABM these two parts of mission are carried out through two Programs, Evangelism and Church Support and Community Development. Yet the divides are incredibly arbitrary. For example, * work supported in the Middle East is part of the Evangelism and Church Support work of ABM and yet many of the projects funded are in fact development programs in other agencies. They are currently in E&CS because the Community Development Program feels it does not have the capacity to undertake the required monitoring * The Melanesian Brothers in the Solomon Islands are an evangelistic religious order. They are also involved in peace-brokering and actions toward civil society and rebuilding of communities damaged by the ethnic tension, which is community development work.

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* Health and education programs are integral to the structure of the Anglican Church in Papua New Guinea and most of the schools and health centres are in mission stations or outstations whose infra-structure at a grassroots level includes a health centre, a school and a church. Yet ABM structurally relates to this integrated community through two Programs. * In the Philippines the church’s education and health work is carried out by sections of the church which neither program of ABM currently relate to.

The examples could go on and I give them as an example of how unhelpful it can be both to ABM and to our Partners to focus on what makes these two approaches to mission different rather than what holds them together. The common values of respect for human dignity, and practices of transparency and accountability, excellence in administrative practices, and the belief that the Gospel includes bringing good news to the poor, means serving the poor and sharing the good news of the Gospel of Jesus is far more important. Additionally I believe that unless ABM is sure of its identity as an NGO whose approach is holistic mission, the implementation of government policy could become passive participation in a very subtle form of social control. The requirements of accreditation are positive for all parts of the organisation. The new model of ABM has plusses and minuses just as the ‘old’ model did. They are different plusses and minuses.

It is unfortunate that the conversations about ABM began with one Program and then attempted to bring in the other Program. My experience of the second cycle was one of confronting an assumption that there were two totally different paradigms of mission operating within ABM. This was and is regrettable. It was and is my hope that we have one paradigm of mission whose intrinsic core values permeate two Programs. Just because ABM is one of the only agencies who has both Programs in the one agency does not mean that we have to operate as though we were 2 agencies who share an administrative infra-structure internally and

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externally and the same office space.

The re-structure of ABM was done rapidly to deal with an urgent, critical financial crisis more than to comply with government regulations in the development sector. Both happened simultaneously and ensuring that the Community Development Program was not endangered was a high priority. The potential generated by the re-structure will be lessened if that structure is set in concrete. Personalities, interactions and circumstances at the time (prior to my arrival) probably created a divide which is greater than needed and helpful and this has continued. If we are to be a learning organisation we will constantly seek to improve the structure and rather than define the ‘divide’, strengthen the agency through building core values and vision.

The cycles of inquiry and dialogue highlighted the cross-roads ABM is at - are we to develop 2 autonomous Programs with their own paradigms or will we seek to be an agency which learns and breathes together? For me the former will create unhelpful rigidity and incapacity to be flexible and respond to the needs of the developing world and indigenous Australians. The latter will be less ordered and defined at times but has much greater potential for making a difference in the way we serve our Partners and the Anglican Church in Australia. It will confront rigid, entrenched stereotypes of development and evangelism in the Anglican Church, and stereotypes of the Christian Gospel in the development sector.

Linda Kurti writes: The challenge for me within this research lay in entering an environment which was already familiar to me. I had attempted to avoid using ABM as the focus of the study because of my involvement with the organisation and with the Anglican Church, although I eventually (somewhat reluctantly) recognised that my very intimacy with the culture and the environment were counted as strengths in the

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context of qualitative research. I worried about bias, and I worried about my ability to probe deeply into an organisation where so many of the people involved were friends or acquaintances, who I would meet in a variety of social activities within and outside of the ABM office.

In the end, I probably worried about this too much. John said as much to me when he suggested that I needn’t be hesitant about following what I thought was right, which I took as encouragement to speak more clearly about things which I expected would be challenging. In the end, the fact that I challenged people’s pre-conceptions led to an important group discussion at the August meeting, and to a valuable interaction regarding the way in which the two Programs complemented each other.

From the beginning, the research raised issues which challenged my thinking regarding the position of the church within society, and the inextricable links between Christianity and culture, particularly the imposition of colonial European cultures on indigenous cultures. Within the first few weeks of fieldwork I had written in my journal: “Christianity is inextricably linked with the history, and many of the problems, of developing countries, and development therefore must include an understanding of and strategies to incorporate the effects of Christianity on culture. These effects are not only the immediate ones of initial exposure to new diseases (and new concepts of medicine and health), but the effects of moral teachings on social structures including gender and sexual relations, the effects of perceptions of European power and associations with spiritual power, and the effects of trading and labour relations on traditional working and economic patterns.” While acknowledging the positive work which ABM had achieved over the years, it was also necessary to acknowledge that the church, while well-meaning, had not always acted in the best interests of the community; indeed, ABM itself had been living with that tension between

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intention and outcome for some time. However, in many ways this became a personal journey of examining my own presuppositions about ‘doing good’, and Dichter’s (2003) book, appropriately entitled Despite Good Intentions, proved a catalyst for some rigorous examination of the motivations behind charitable aid.

As a volunteer, and especially as a researcher spending time in the office, I felt both part of things, and outside of things. It’s as though ABM is a series of layers (and one could debate where the centre is): the staff, the Board, the volunteers, and the supporters. I recognised during the year that I am part of some things, and not a part of others. I felt the organisation was supportive of my work, and accepting of my presence, while in myself always feeling a little hesitant about intruding into the natural patterns of the working environment. It took me a while to feel that I was not making a nuisance of myself.

The co-operative inquiry method was a challenging one, as its boundaries were open-ended enough to feel to me to be quite fuzzy throughout the year. I sometimes wondered whether we were all having one very long chat, extending over months, and whether this was leading to something which would be useful to the organisation, or anyone else. In the end, I felt that it did become a valuable contribution to the ongoing development of the organisation, but it was only at the end of the three cycles that I could look back and see a pattern of evolution.

I find myself in a unique position at the time of writing this thesis, because three months after finishing the research, I was appointed to succeed Geoff Smith as National Director of ABM. In this way, the research comes to have a greater personal significance for me and for my co-participants, as it has laid the foundation for working relationships which are now formalised by my official presence in the organisation. In a short period of time I have gone from an outsider to an insider, bringing with me the perspective of a volunteer and the

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critique of a researcher. I also bring the primary and secondary meanings which emerged from this piece of research, and the experience of working together with a team of senior staff in a process of organisational learning.

From the position of National Director, I now understand more fully Geoff’s early concerns to hold the two paradigms of mission together, and to structure the organisation along its present lines in order to ensure that the work of ABM is not divided. I think that he and the Board were right to make the decision which they did back in 2000 to hold the Programs together. However, the growth of the Community Development Program since that time now requires the organisation to ensure that its theological and philosophical foundations are clearly articulated in order for ABM to be flexible enough to stretch and grow as each Program expands. A particular danger, alluded to by Geoff in the course of the research in 2004, is that of growing big, and of beginning to see organisational growth as a positive end in itself. ABM will succeed to the extent that it is able to hold together not only its understanding of holistic mission, but to the extent that it is able to maintain fidelity to its primary relationships with the Anglican Church of Australia and with its partner churches, at the same time as representing in an authentic way these relationships in its participation in the development sector.

In the few months in which I have occupied the role of National Director, I have spent time visiting with many of our supporters across Australia. What I have often heard from them is a concern that ABM is not losing sight of its Christian mission in following the aid dollar. While understanding the value of material development activities, and not wishing for the Church to ignore these, some concern has been expressed by supporters that we not stop ‘preaching the Good News’. These are concerns about our representation of the Anglican Church and its values, within the context of a shared international church culture. Our legitimacy as the overseas representative of the Anglican Church of Australia

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depends on our ability to translate development theory into a cohesive theology of holistic mission. Fully discovering and integrating this philosophical understanding within the organisation will take time, just as it will take time for the organisational changes of the past five years to be consolidated. ABM is moving into its next phase of realising fully the strategies which have been put in place since 2000 to position it as a contemporary mission and development agency. This research has contributed to that growth within the agency and, indeed, its outcomes have been taken on by Board and staff as a foundation for organisational learning for the next few years. This has been explicitly addressed at Board level by the decision to make time at each Board meeting to discuss our activities from a missiological perspective, and by the interest of the Board in exploring further notions of legitimacy and intentionality. At staff level, the research has been addressed by improving avenues for communication across Programs and across the whole of the agency, by examining our financial and administrative structures to try to simplify and unify our complex systems, and by undertaking new ways of promoting the organisation in a unified fashion. Within the ComDev team, the research has been reflected in a dedicated position entitled ‘Learning and Effectiveness Officer’, taken up by Sophie in the year after the research was completed.

A significant but unforeseen outcome of the research is that my colleagues and I have now had the experience of journeying through a learning process together; we have learned to reflect together and to listen to each other, and it seems to me that the greatest value in this type of participatory research, as Heron (1996) suggests, is not the final report which is written but the shared and transformational process of group experience. The unexpected circumstances of my appointment following the conclusion of the fieldwork seem to me to have provided us with a unique grounding on which to continue to seek a healthy

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balance of inhaling and exhaling - evangelism and development - and also in making space to breathe together.

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Chapter Ten: Discussion

Introduction This study has analysed the complexities involved within a faith-based organisation which is concerned to articulate its identity while occupying a liminal space between its church constituency and the international development aid sector. Ultimately ABM’s ability to hold together its understanding of holistic mission will depend upon its intentionality of action underpinned by the legitimacy of its voice. ‘Intentionality’ means the intention with which ABM enters into activities and its fidelity to what the organisation is trying to achieve: the sense-making by which actions are validated. While Sophie affirmed that the ComDev Program would support whatever spirituality already existed in the community, the Community Development Program would intentionally not mention Jesus while doing its development work (unless this was part of the existing spirituality) in order to ensure that they were not proselytising. On the other hand, Carolyn responded that E&CS would quite intentionally speak about Jesus because that Program was about Christianity and about building up the church.

Heron defines intentionality as: the inherent and autonomous capacity of a person to articulate reality through finding meaning in it and giving meaning to it. The finding and giving are inseparable: I find meaning in by giving meaning to: there is no finding meaning other than by giving meaning. The meaning I find is always clothed in the meaning I give. Hence the reality I articulate is always a subjective-objective one (Heron, 1996:203). It is in the ‘giving meaning’ that ABM is able to shape its understanding of the organisation’s mission, identity, and values. Through this subjective-objective interaction between the work of ABM and ABM’s ascription of meaning to its work, the organisation will continue to negotiate its purpose.

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The central argument in this discussion is that the intentionality with which ABM approaches its work drives the tension within the organisation. However, that intentionality, and its corresponding action from either Program, must be grounded in the legitimacy which the organisation claims for itself. The NGO’s identity, values and relations of accountability are all components of organisational legitimacy, and in order for the organisation to function with integrity, these components must also drive both its intentions and its actions.

The division which has been discussed between ABM’s two Programs - Community Development and Evangelism and Church Support - reflects to a very general extent the division between the priestly and prophetic roles (Jelen and Wilcox, 2002b), introduced in chapter three. The ComDev Program has the potential to fulfil a priestly role, in demonstrating the ability of the church to work with and to support government in its international development aims. The E&CS Program stands prophetically, calling attention to the needs of communities to seek spiritual wholeness and supporting them to do so through the church. But even these distinctions are not fixed. ABM, through either of its Programs, ought to be able to demonstrate solidarity with government policy or a prophetic call to solidarity with the marginalised. The distinction lies, again, in the intention of the Program. At the same time, neither Program, nor the organisation as a whole, can be called to follow solely either the priestly or the prophetic role. To do so would be to limit the organisation’s understanding of itself within its single identity, and constrain its capacity to see its work as a unitary whole that contributes to God’s mission. Ultimately, ABM’s ability to continue to develop both sides of the organisation hinges, somewhat paradoxically, on its ability to find an intentionality which joins the two sides rather than divides them. Thus there need to be two levels of intention: one which unites, and another which distinguishes the Programs. That which unites

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the Programs, I suggest, is drawn upon the cultural basis of the organisation - its values, identity and accountability through relationships - which together frame the legitimacy which the organisation requires to undertake its activities. Underlying the two Programs must be a common purpose of which each Program is an active expression.

In this chapter, I will discuss the learning which has emerged for ABM out of our cooperative inquiry. As has been noted, the transformative learning latent within a cooperative inquiry process remains primarily with the participants. Therefore, the primary meaning of the study is manifest in changed understanding and praxis of the staff of ABM. However, there are general lessons which will benefit the organisation by being articulated outside the experience of the researchers; there may well also be lessons learned here which will be of value to other faith-based NGOs. The themes which emerged from the research provide pointers for ABM in addressing strategic and philosophical directions for the future. These themes are, broadly: 1) the cultural ground of the organisation – its values, identity, and relationships – which forms the foundation of organisational legitimacy; and 2) the intentionality of action which emerges out of that organisational legitimacy. Taken together, they suggest that for ABM, the way in which it is able to articulate its intentions to the organisation’s three stakeholder groups – the Church, government, and our partners – is at the same time the means by which ABM constructs a meaningful discourse about its work. ABM legitimises its activities through its public representation of itself in activities of moral and procedural accounting.

Faith-based NGOs as an expression of culture-centred development As was seen in chapter two, culture is increasingly recognised as an integral variable in international development (Verhelst, 1987, Harrison, 2000, Grondona, 2000). The extent to which religion is seen as an aspect of culture (Thomas,

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2001, Grondona, 2000) depends on one’s own philosophical stance; however, it is acknowledged historically that changes in the Western European understanding of religion within society were influential in the colonial missionary endeavour (Van Rooden, 1996, Thomas, 2001). As Thomas (2001:522) has noted, “a sign of secularization is that religion becomes explicit.” In other words, the separation of religion from national or group identity privatises faith to the extent that it becomes a matter of choice for the individual, rather than an unquestioned worldview assumed by membership of a national or ethnic group. The syncretistic tendencies of modern Australia and other developed countries, in which religion is seen as an optional life choice which can be constructed to taste from a range of religious traditions on offer (Thomas, 2001), both marginalises religion in the public debate and, at the same time, increases the importance of faith-based organisations such as ABM which represent a particular tradition within society. Questions regarding legitimacy of faith-based NGOs, then, are in essence questions regarding the moral voice (Slim, 2002) by which such organisations represent perspectives within the public discourse.

A culture-centred development paradigm for ABM requires the organisation to be able to articulate its cultural foundation, that is as an Anglican mission agency with Western European Protestant theological and philosophical roots. It requires the organisation to own and be honest about its past, including its missionary heritage and participation in the imperialistic British enterprise, while re-creating its understanding of mission within the 21st century context. A culture-centred development paradigm requires ABM to articulate development not solely in the light of contemporary development theory but in light of the Christian Gospel and its imperative call to seek structural justice grounded in an ethic of love.

Thomas (2001) raises two questions in conceptualising the place of religion in global civil society. The first is whether orthodox (by which he means strongly

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held) religious belief can find a place in a post-modern discourse which has relativised belief systems; the second is how deeply-held religious faith can be expressed in a global civil society which diminishes the particular in favour of the general. This is similar to the point made by the ecumenical consultation in 1999 (Consultation report, 1999) on relief and development in which a concern was expressed that those explicit characteristics of religious groups face the danger of being diminished by being gathered into a broad category of spiritual agencies. Thomas writes: Religions, whether through mass movements or intellectual articulations, must constitute themselves in particular ways, largely either as a voluntary association built around individual liberties or as an ethno-cultural group built around collective rights. Thus in their very agency they become implicated in global civil society and both enact and shape emerging world cultural models. (Thomas, 2001:532)

The choice for ABM, according to this argument, is whether to assert itself as the mission agency of the Anglican Church of Australia, thus claiming a cultural identification which is tied to a particular Christian denominational history and tradition, or whether to seek a more general identity as a voluntary association which is Christian, which happens by historical accident to be Anglican, and which seeks to appeal to the individual liberty of a supporter to choose ABM over other charitable organisations. The first choice ties ABM to working within the structures of the Anglican Church of Australia, and asserting its legitimacy on the basis of that relationship. The second choice frees ABM to be a development agency which claims a Christian heritage but requires the organisation to define the ground of its legitimacy. In either way, as Thomas argues, ABM may contribute to the understanding of a global society. The decision to claim its mandate within the Anglican Church is based on a privileging of a particular history, denominational culture, and set of values (as discussed in chapter six). A decision, for instance, to change the organisation’s name to something more modern and less Anglican would be a decision to move away from the particular

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to the general in seeking legitimacy in the public’s eyes, and would require the articulation of the organisation’s values and culture in a new way.

Faith-based NGOs as an expression of values Having said that, I contend that it is the values of the faith-based organisation which make it attractive to government. Those values are based in a long tradition of (in this case) Christian compassion for the poor, and the mandate of Christians to seek justice and to create a world grounded in a law of love and an ethic of service. Faith-based agencies bring with them an entire constituency of supporters who share a particular paradigm of the world, and who are prepared to advocate for that worldview. Church-based agencies bring with them a long, and at times tragic, history of relationships and activities which were intended to serve the neediest in the world, by ministering to all aspects of life – spiritual, physical, social and material. Christian agencies can act in either the priestly or the prophetic role, or both, with regard to secular authority and civil society, but in each case they not only bring their religious worldview to bear on public and political spheres but they provide access to and support from a large body of supporters, thus mediating between perspectives of faith communities and political actors.

However, as noted in chapter three, the donor-recipient relationship with the Australian Government provides faith-based NGOs with a challenge. The decision to seek funding from the government, and to hold to the agreed standards of a professionalised aid sector, means that requirements are made of the NGO by external bodies. These are not just good practice requirements, which strengthen the organisation itself; these are also requirements which may lead the organisation to make decisions which at some level move the organisation towards that priestly role described by Jelen & Wilcox (2002b) as standing in a supportive stance of the political authority structures. As Brodhead (1987:2)

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notes, “approving reference to an NGO’s greater ‘professionalization’ is often the reverse side of the organization’s loss of contact with its own base.” The attributes which make NGOs attractive, such as their independence from government, their close affiliation with the poor and marginalised, their flexibility and responsiveness, may be just those attributes which are judged to be less ‘professional’ and which are lost in an increasing procedural accountability to government and multi-laterals (Brodhead, 1987, Atack, 1999, Van der Heijden, 1987, Dichter, 2003). The extent to which NGOs become dependent upon government funding also impacts upon their autonomy and ability to remain true to their founding values (Loconte, 1997, Van der Heijden, 1987), a point also made by Carolyn in chapter nine.

This is an important point and one which is evident within ABM. As discussed in chapter six, ABM has moved towards an increasingly professionalised Community Development Program and staff. This is acknowledged to be a positive move by everyone within the organisation, and is evidenced as well by ABM’s improved reputation within the Australian aid sector. The challenge internally for the organisation is to ensure that the professionalisation of staff does not lead it away from maintaining its links with its traditional support base. ABM is effective and its presence of demonstrable value in Australia and overseas because it is the visible face of the Australian Anglican Church in its relationships with partner churches. To move too far away from being relationally in touch with the Anglican support base would be to weaken the credibility with which ABM functions as a development agency. This is not currently a reality for the organisation, but remains a potential threat to be managed in the future. Such decisions as employing professional development staff who may not be Anglican or even Christian would impact upon that relational link with the Anglican Church.

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The debate in the Australian media (Wood, 2003) about the independence of the NGO sector and whether NGOs should be allowed to gain government funding if they critique the government is a case in point. Faith-based agencies are required to hold to an additional standard as well as the aid sector standards: that of seeing development activities as mission activities in and of themselves, regardless of the presence or absence of the intention to talk about Jesus. It is incumbent on faith- based (and other ideologically-based) NGOs to retain their sense of identity, based upon their underlying values; otherwise they will lose their usefulness to government. However, the very relationship with government may influence the sense of identity of the NGO. Van der Heijden (1987) points to a number of concerns in this regard, at the same time reporting the attempts the international aid sector has made to try to address such threats as: a potential conflict of interest from the divergence of government and NGO objectives; the growing dependence of NGOs on government funding and the danger this poses to the NGO’s autonomy, the gradual adoption of government processes and styles over the founding culture of the organisation, and a gradual loss of connection with the NGO’s traditional support base. All of these have been noted by ABM and have been discussed as challenges to which the agency needs to be alert as it grows. Faith-based agencies are not alone in facing these threats; however, faith-based agencies in particular balance the relationship with government with an identification with a specific ethno-cultural grouping (to use Thomas’ (2001) phrase), one based upon a set of shared values, history and tradition. Thus, faith- based organisations need to remain aware of the convergence and divergence of the values and objectives of each sphere: faith tradition and public governance.

The foundations of NGO legitimacy In her 1990s research, Rugendyke commented on the fact that, as ABM was an agency of the church and not part of the aid sector, it was not held to the high standards of accountability to which other NGOs were held accountable. Hilhorst

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(2003:143) notes, however, that in the 1980s accountability was not a notion which was prevalent in the NGO world. NGOs were assumed to hold to a standard of moral accountability, based on their origins as values-based organisations. Language about accountability came to the fore in the 1990s, according to Hilhorst (2003:144), with the rise in neo-liberal economics and liberal democratic political theory. Others have written extensively on the notion of NGO accountability (see for instance Bornstein, 2002, Brodhead, 1987, Atack, 1999, Edwards, 1999, Edwards, 1998, Edwards and Hulme, 1996, Edwards et al., 1999, Dichter, 2003, Padron, 1987, Slim, 2002). Although there may be divergences of opinion as to the reasons for its heightened status as a construct for NGOs, there appears to be agreement that NGO legitimacy is based upon an NGO’s ability to demonstrate moral, procedural or legal accountability to a larger civil authority such as the public or the government.

ABM has demonstrated that it is able to be accountable administratively for government funds, and to participate responsibly in the government’s aid and development activities. Its status as an accredited agency with AusAID demonstrates that accountable and transparent administrative systems are in place. This procedural accountability (Atack, 1999) makes demands on the organisation, however, in terms of remaining autonomous enough from the aid sector to be able to represent faithfully its own organisational values, and to critique political policies and agendas which may be at odds with the ethics of its faith stance. Hilhorst calls this ‘rational accountability’ and argues that this form of reporting presupposes an ability to account objectively for one’s actions, within the context of an authority which has a power of control: The means of accounting, such as formats for reporting, shape organizational relations because they open up spaces of discretion and allow evaluation and comparison of individuals and organizations. One could go as far as to say that authority gets constituted through the possibility of control...such illusions of control [mean] that representatives of funding agencies may even

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start to take on the identity of ‘proximate managers’, instead of the distant suppliers of funds they used to be (Hilhorst, 2003:130, italics original).

The very nature of rational or procedural accounting subtly influences the development NGO over time as the locus of authority alters the representation of the NGO’s work to forms which meet the requirements of the funding body. This may require the NGO to measure its work less by adherence to its founding principles or values and more by meeting the donor’s objectives.

At the same time, accountability to the church demands that ABM is able to retain its Anglican Christian ethos, and to undertake work which is considered by Australian Anglican supporters to be true to their understanding of God’s mission. The organisation’s legitimacy rests upon its ability to account to its support base for the actions which they undertake (Edwards and Hulme, 1996, Atack, 1999). Hilhorst (2003) refers to this as ‘moral’ accountability; Atack (1999) refers to ‘representativeness’; Slim (2002) writes of ‘voice accountability’. Each of these refers to the relationship by which the NGO claims its authority to speak and act and, unlike the ‘upward accountability’ of procedural accounting, this moral authority is based not upon systems but on relationships. It is on the basis of shared values, often within a shared culture, that the NGO claims to represent a particular constituency from which it also claims the authority to act. For ABM, this constituency is found within the Anglican Church of Australia. However, there is also a second constituency from which the organisation also claims its moral legitimacy.

ABM is accountable to the Anglican Church of Australia for leadership in Christian mission through its position within the hierarchy of the church structures. The organisation, although legally separate from the church structure, is constituted by a canon of the General Synod of the Church, the latter body

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forming the majority membership of the company. Its involvement with the development sector is one way in which ABM has sought to address contemporary global challenges while remaining true to its mandate from the church. However, the value and sustainability of ABM’s activities are dependent upon the empowerment of its work by the partner churches which the organisation seeks to assist. ABM’s relationships with overseas churches, and with indigenous Australians, provide the legitimacy for the work the organisation undertakes, by validating its claim to advocate for the grassroots communities of the poor and disadvantaged.

Slim (2002:5) identifies two aspects of voice accountability: the empirical and the political. ABM attempts to address the empirical question of veracity through its close association with grassroots communities: through frequent travel to partner churches and extensive visits to places where ABM supports projects; through consultation; and through facilitating exchange visits and networking between Australian Anglicans and overseas partners. In other words, it attempts to ensure that what the organisation says is grounded in first-hand experience and authentic relationships. The political question is more difficult. As Slim (2002:5) points out, “not many people in international NGOs are or have been poor themselves...the issue of class is therefore critical to discussion of NGO voice.” Using Slim’s breakdown of stances which an NGO might take, ABM does not speak as, since it is not a grassroots organisation (GRO) which is constitutive of the poor. ABM can often be said to speak with, that is, in solidarity with and with the consent of partner churches. It rarely if ever claims to speak for, as ABM’s values honour the integrity of the partner and recognise the autonomy of their own voice. ABM may at times speak about, in the context of speaking about global issues of justice or structural oppression which impact upon the poor.

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Accountability in legitimating relationships is not unilateral, and involves to some extent a negotiation of the balance of power (Brodhead, 1987, Padron, 1987). An Australian NGO working with a partner in a developing country has the power derived from access to funding, and the ability to dictate how those funds might be used. However, the partner community also has power in this relationship, less often recognised, because the Australian NGO needs that community to legitimise its own existence (the process of legitimation is discussed in Hilhorst, 2003). As has been shown through the research, ABM gains the valorisation of its activities through the acceptance of those activities by the partner church. This is evidenced in its regular magazine which emphasises the local and personal level at which ABM staff engage with members of overseas churches, by the language internal to the organisation as it seeks to ensure that it is not speaking for, and by the continual attempts to consult with partners as projects and processes are developed. There is also the level of legitimacy provided by being the national mission agency of the Anglican Church of Australia. If for some reason the Church should decide to amend its structural relationship to ABM – for instance to decide not to have a national mission agency - the agency as a development agency would lose its mandate for existence.

ABM is thus closely bound to its relationships with all stakeholders. From its relationships with government and the aid sector, ABM derives its drive towards administrative excellence, improving systems and processes which enhance its ability to fulfill its mandate within the church. ABM also gains legitimacy from the relationship of procedural accountability, evidenced through its status as a signatory to the Code of Conduct and as a development agency fully accredited with AusAID. From its relationship with the Anglican Church of Australia ABM gains its mandate to provide leadership in Anglican mission, and to work in partnership with indigenous Australians and with Anglican churches overseas. This relationship of moral accountability is also a counterweight in challenging

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the organisation to ensure that it is balancing representativeness with effectiveness (Atack, 1999). Finally, from its relationships with partners, in indigenous communities in Australia and with Anglican churches overseas, ABM derives its authority to speak regarding the Christian call to justice, mercy and love, and claims its legitimacy to do so.

Balancing intention and action Geoff stated in chapter nine that he considered the tension between the Programs to have more to do with internal issues than with ABM’s engagement with the aid sector: “the challenge in fact was coming from inside the organisation and not outside at all”. While agreeing with Geoff regarding any difference in operating styles of ABM staff, I argue now that these only exacerbate what I consider to be the very real tension of holding together two Programs when one of them imposes a new locus of accountability on the organisation, one which requires activities to be evaluated according to particular criteria39 and which shapes identity according to the cultural norms of the aid sector.

It is this locus of authority which divides the two Programs. However, what is more important is that the agency discovers that which unites its work, and builds on that common ground. What unites both Programs of ABM is found at the level of its cultural ground – values, identity and relationships – but, in addition, it is also found at the level of organisational legitimacy. The legitimacy which is claimed by each Program for its particular modus operandi is found in its relationships with its partners, relationships which belong to the whole organisation and to which the whole organisation must attend.

The differences between Programs arise at the level of intentionality and action. There is an inherent tension within the organisation caused by two different

39 see the ACFID Code of Conduct http://www.acfid.asn.au/code/code.htm

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intentions of the Programs, regarding the way in which Christian witness is perceived and conducted. E&CS is to grow the church through building communities of faith; ComDev is to carry out the work of the church through a focus on material development. Neither is incompatible with the other; in fact, both are supported by individual and parish donors within the Anglican Church of Australia and understood to be components of Christian mission. However, the intention with which each is undertaken leads to different aims. Intentionality requires a finely tuned articulation of the motivation for action.

To express this diagrammatically, values, identity and relationships of accountability form a cultural ground out of which ABM constructs its understanding of itself. This understanding of itself further leads to a negotiated legitimacy, or legitimation of authority (Hilhorst, 2003), by which ABM claims moral and procedural justification for the work which it undertakes. These two levels – of culture and authority – are contested arenas in which the organisation (staff, volunteers, Board members, supporters) continually reassesses its position in relation to its stakeholders, and the public and political spheres in which it operates. ABM’s construction of meaning (its subjective-objective understanding of itself) is thus fluid enough to evolve over time, from the exhortational enthusiasm of a colonial mission agency in the 19th century, to a sophisticated mission and development agency in the 21st century.

Out of these arenas emerge ABM’s intentions, and its action. The intentions of the two Programs may differ, and may be constructed differently; their actions may differ, and be monitored and evaluated differently. As long as these are grounded in a commonly-accepted culture and authority, the organisation can hold these varying ‘facets’ of ABM’s work together, as the team agreed to call ABM’s various paradigms: “so we have a variety of stakeholders, we’ve got two facets of the organisation, and for certain stakeholders we highlight particular

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facets, one of the facets or the other, or sometimes it’s all” (John). The diagram below attempts to illustrate these subtleties.

VALUES IDENTITY ACCOUNTABILITY

LEGITIMACY

intention action

Diagram 10.1 Foundations of NGO legitimacy

The challenge for the organisation, then, is to articulate and affirm its common spheres of culture and authority, in a manner which is broad enough to hold together two components of mission – church-building and community development – and which is specific enough to be meaningful. The growth of the Community Development Program, with its additional funding opportunities and concomitant staffing requirements, will only be a threat to the organisation if ABM is not able to hold fast to a clearly defined understanding of ‘holistic mission’.

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Intentionality and transformation Christian mission can be understood as the practice of transformation, in light of the message of Jesus and in anticipation of a world in which God will reign with love and justice (Gutierrez, 1988, Bosch, 1991, Brueggemann, 2001). Mission has been construed as inherently hopeful (Brueggemann, 2001); ‘radical political action’ (Yoder, 1972); salvific (Bosch, 1991); but also exclusive (Comaroff and Comaroff, 2000); neoliberal (Bornstein, 2001b); imperialist (Said, 1993). As explored throughout the research, mission within ABM is best understood within contemporary notions of missiology, as a person’s response to the love of God. As such, it presupposes a transformed life and witness by the person of faith; it does not presume activities of proselytisation or conversion. Although still bearing the 19th century name with its overtones of colonial authority, ABM has reinvented its understanding of the title, so that mission is understood as the response of Australian Anglicans to God’s generosity by seeking to serve others who are in need. The intention, therefore, of the organisation is that of active service to God and God’s people. This is true for both E&CS and ComDev. The intention of the organisation is to transform the world by right action, to bring in God’s world of ‘love, hope, and justice’ (as a current slogan of ABM’s expresses it). To this extent ABM has moved on from its colonial past to an understanding of mission as partnership with Anglican churches overseas and with indigenous Australians.

Paradoxically, involvement of faith-based NGOs in international development may implicate them again in collusion with political hegemonies (Petras, 1999, Hauck et al., 2005, Comaroff and Comaroff, 2000, Aboagye-Mensah, 1993, Manji and O'Coill, 2002). The perception of NGOs as being implicated in the imposition of global neoliberal systems was discussed earlier, in chapters two and three. Faith-based NGOs, in engaging with the development sector, have an

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opportunity to influence international trends by calling to account government policy and foreign aid objectives. In order to ensure their independence to do so, faith-based NGOs will have to retain a degree of autonomy and be aware of establishing enough distance to be able to critique national and international political movements.

Transformation, understood within the international development sector, is inextricably tied to economic and material well-being (Bornstein, 2002, Loy, 2003, Verhelst, 1987). The development industry’s attempts to create material wealth, and its failures in alleviating poverty, have already been discussed. As Loy (2003) and others argue, it is this limiting perception of what transformation actually means (and requires), that has impeded attempts to once and for all ‘make poverty history’. Kliksberg (2003) for instance argues that religious teachings make it clear that only through a transformation of one’s values and priorities will a better world be created, and that the onus is on each individual, not the government, to seek to realise that world. “The Talmudic text indicates this, declaring that ‘He who saves a single life, it is as if he had preserved an entire world” (Kliksberg, 2003:62). Similarly, Balchin (2003) notes the importance for Islamic women of religious values in constructing meaning and seeking transformation in their own lives and those of their community.

It is here that faith-based NGOs may be most important and, at the same time, called to exercise that prophetic role (Jelen and Wilcox, 2002b) in relation to dominant economic and social systems. At their best, faith-based NGOs can interpose a discourse of values regarding transformation into the dominant construction of meaning in the international development sector. This is not to say that faith-based NGOs need to argue for the supremacy of their religion over any other; it has been noted before how destructive this type of transnational proselytising can be. It is that faith-based NGOs, at their heart, embody

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transformative notions of a world in which poverty and injustice are alleviated and a society of love and peace is inaugurated. These are notions of hope which are sorely needed at the turn of the 21st century when the dominant international discourse regarding religion takes place in regard to terrorism (Jelen and Wilcox, 2002a).

ABM is now structurally organised to do just this: to embody notions of transformation and, at the same time, to represent to the development sector alternative readings of development as a construct. Through its organisational structure, it grounds development activities firmly to the mission of the Anglican Church of Australia, while freeing development activities to express an intentionality which is congruent with the requirements of the Australian aid sector. The intentionality of the Community Development Program, however, must remain essentially transformative as Christianity conceives transformation, and must negotiate this understanding within the bureaucratic tendencies of the professionalised development industry. In this way, ABM, and other faith-based NGOs, can make a unique contribution to the development sector, while remaining true to their own foundations of culture and legitimacy.

Summary This chapter has analysed the implications of the study in light of the literature. ABM occupies a liminal position between two worldviews of transformation: that of the Christian understanding of God’s mission for the world, and that of secular economic and social democratic theories of global interdependence. Each viewpoint is consistent within itself, and were ABM to have remained as a mission agency, the internal tensions of the organisation would not have arisen (although the agency would undoubtedly be grappling, as all organisations do, with other sorts of tensions). The tension has arisen from the imposition of a set of industry-based notions of operational and relational accountability upon an

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agency with a long history of its own operational praxis and long-term relationships with partners and the Anglican Church, established for the purpose of bringing the Christian message to the world. Many of the Code of Conduct and accreditation requirements have been positive innovations for the organisation, which embraces a commitment to best practice and high standards of organisational integrity. On the whole the organisation at both Board and staff level are convinced of the positive benefits of accreditation and a close association with the aid sector. However, the tension remains between holding two Programs separate which claim to operate under the same notion of holistic mission. Developing a unifying paradigm which does not disturb the autonomy of each Program, based on shared culture and legitimacy, will be ABM’s task for the future. Creating a breathing space which allows reflection and discovery in order to unite the two Programs in a holistic understanding of mission is part of the work for which this research has provided the foundation.

Key points:

• Organisational legitimacy for a faith-based NGO (and for other ideologically based NGOs) is built upon its constructed culture, encompassing the organisation’s values, identity, and relationships of accountability. • It is the organisational legitimacy on which authority to act is based, out of which emerge both intention and action. • Intentionality is the key to understanding organisational culture and, in particular, the tensions inherent in ABM’s structure. This can be a unifying construct as well as a divisive one. • ABM occupies liminal space between notions of transformation – that of the Christian understanding of God’s mission in the world, and that of contemporary development theories of global economic and democratic social interdependence.

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Chapter Eleven: Conclusion

This thesis has presented the story of a short period in the long life of the Anglican Board of Mission, a year in which several staff and one volunteer collaboratively explored the implications of the organisation’s move into the international development aid sector. In the presentation of this cooperative inquiry project as a thesis, I have explored areas of literature which have been relevant to the work of ABM: writings and theory from international development, from politics and religion, and from the field of qualitative methodology, particularly writings in the participatory paradigm. I have interpreted my understanding of the year which I spent within ABM as a participant-researcher, recognising that the picture which is given here is my own view of reality, however much I have attempted to make visible those views of my colleagues.

The Anglican Board of Mission in the year 2005 is in a strong position. It has recovered well from the painful restructure of 2000, with its change of organisational structure and procedures. In doing so, it has ensured that it is in a healthier financial position, and the new direction of the organisation seems to be affirmed by the increasing donations from its supporters. While the first few years of the new century were largely dedicated to ensuring the survival of the organisation, the year in which this research was conducted formed, in retrospect, a transitional year. The agency was emerging from its internal organisational concerns to begin to reflect more widely on issues of effectiveness, learning, and how to balance the two Programs as they grow. This was, again, initiated by the relationship with government in that it was the year when full accreditation was sought. The preparation for accreditation raised questions regarding a number of operational issues, such as separation of administrative and financial systems, reporting, and compliance with the Code of Conduct. Because of my research, it

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was a year in which staff could reflect together on the growth and direction of the organisation, and how they work together. And, with Geoff’s resignation, it became a year which heralded a change of leadership and a new era for the organisation as the first woman was appointed to the position of National Director.

The research emerged organically from discussions within the Development Committee in 2003, and from the opportunity for churches to work with AusAID in PNG in a new way. As with a number of ABM’s recent key moments in its history (moving into the aid sector, changing organisational structure, gaining accreditation, improving systems), one might say that a significant experience in the life of ABM, the year of research, was influenced by the relationship with government. The team which John, Sophie and I became created a new level of reflection and dialogue within the organisation. This type of reflection is a rare opportunity within an NGO, most of which operate on tight budgets and with overworked staff. ABM is no different in this regard, and it is a tribute to John, Sophie, Geoff and Carolyn that they made the time to participate in the research.

The primary value of the research, as stated earlier, lies with the experience of the participants. The meaning created as we considered key questions about ABM’s organisation life is meaning translated into knowledge – practical knowledge – which itself can be chanelled into transformed praxis. The unexpected benefit of the research is that my change of role from volunteer to leader of ABM allows those of us who remain at ABM to continue to engage in reflective practice, and to find tangible ways to build on the primary experiences of the year of research.

The secondary meaning of the research is also significant, however. The key finding, that ABM’s operational and philosophical praxis is built on a framework of values, identity and relationships of accountability, and validated through the

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legitimacy claimed through those relationships, is an important concept for ABM’s future. Previously, the focus of the organisation has been on that which separates the two Programs, that is, their individual intentionality. The new awareness of the way in which the organisation itself is legitimated through its relationships will allow ABM to focus on those things which hold the organisation together. The actual intentions and activities of the Programs are of second-order importance to those relationships. Put simply, our relationships with our partners, with the Anglican Church of Australia, and to an extent with the aid sector, are relationships of the whole organisation. While activities and intentions arising from those relationships are actualised differently for each Program, the unifying principle is the identity of the organisation, based on its values, and expressed through its relationships. It is out of this ground that ABM can claim its legitimacy to act as it does, within either Program.

At this level of secondary meaning-making, there are a number of key lessons which can be identified as outcomes of the research.

This study has shown that the methodology of cooperative inquiry is ideally suited for small organisations which are values-driven, because it is highly relational and experiential. It provides a structured but flexible tool for learning which is transformative personally and for the organisation as a whole. The theoretical framework of the participatory paradigm was congruent for a faith- based organisation, and valorised the importance of such subtle but essential aspects of organisational life such as its values, its understanding of reality, and its internal relational dynamics. While this inquiry was undertaken over the course of a year, shorter inquiries could be designed. Alternatively, the inquiry cycle could be useful as an ongoing quality improvement approach, in which staff members who were working on a long-term process could explore their work and its effectiveness.

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NGOs are often small organisations existing with minimal funding and maintained by passionate and enthusiastic staff who work far too hard. This type of inquiry, while time consuming in its democratic approach to learning and praxis, could be a valuable addition to the tools which NGOs have to hand in evaluating and reflecting on their work. Too often organisational learning processes are lost in the demands of daily workloads. Incorporating an inquiry process into the life and work of an NGO could provide opportunities for both organisational learning and enhanced team cooperation.

There were aspects of this research project which did not work as well as envisaged. For the most part, these were initial ideas which seemed like brilliant concepts in the planning stages but proved inimical to the nature of cooperative inquiry. Two of these come to mind. The involvement of the Development Committee in the research was a well-intentioned but misplaced idea, given the principle of participatory democracy which is integral to the methodological framework. A group which meets quarterly and which has had no hand in the design and implementation of the research could not be expected to enter into the process with any enthusiasm. My fellow Committee members were polite but disengaged. This in itself was an interesting finding, since it led the research team to consider ways of trying to engage the Committee more explicitly in the intellectual life of the organisation, and to increase its input at a policy level. However, if I were to do the project over again, I would either ensure that the formation of the research team was clear and bounded at the beginning (and not have suggested various layers of participation), or I would constitute the Development Committee as a separate inquiry group, working with them cooperatively to generate their own questions and devise means for answering them. This is something to consider for the future.

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A second early idea had been to focus specifically on the work of ABM in Papua New Guinea. This didn’t happen for a number of reasons, some logistic, some because I realised that the level of cooperation required for the method would not be possible given constraints of time and money. The relinquishment of the plan to conduct part of the research overseas only highlighted the importance of a highly inclusive collaboration, with decision-making taken cooperatively at each level of the research. It would have been innovative to have included the Anglican Church of Papua New Guinea, or another of our partner churches, in the research; that proved impracticable within the constraints of this research project but is something which we are discussing for future projects.

The research focussed on the ways in which a Christian mission agency had been changed by its participation in the international development aid sector and with government. By any measures the changes have been significant, and have led the agency in a direction which it had not entirely planned. The momentum of a growing and highly regarded development Program is moving the agency towards higher levels of engagement with the sector and stricter adherence to industry standards than would have been the case had ABM remained solely a mission agency. As with any faith- or value-based agency seeking external funding, ABM needs to be aware of the potential risks such a move could pose to its own values or priorities with its partners. This is not to say that such a risk has up to now been actualised for ABM or any other NGO. It is simply that any relationship of accountability with some capacity for control requires an NGO to be clear about its own identity and place in the world, so as to hold a steady course with regard to its own aims and objectives.

On the other hand, ABM has specific challenges which are unique in the aid sector, because of its adherence to its mission identity. In particular, the issue which was highlighted in the August meeting as ‘making space to breathe’ will

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continue to be, not just a polarity to be managed, but a significant challenge to the agency until it is able to articulate clearly that which unites the two Programs. It will require the agency to articulate how development is also mission, and to specify more clearly what are the intentions of the two Programs. In other words, ABM needs to know what unites the two as well as what distinguishes the two. This is a question of identity, and moves to the heart of the tensions which the agency experiences in trying to understand how to operate in an increasingly complex organisational environment. Finally, ABM needs to be very clear about its strategic intentions. The exploration took place at the operational level, but it has raised questions which are of a strategic nature, and which the Board will need to consider over the next few years.

Because of the dual nature of the organisation, and because development activities have been brought under the banner of mission while ABM has been at the same time building an identity within the aid sector, the organisation is continuing to define its identity and its place within the world of international development. Perhaps it will always remain fuzzy and, like other polarities, need ongoing management. It may be that the only way to manage it will be to ‘make space to breathe’, ie to ensure time for reflection and conversation across Programs, and to continue to articulate an understanding of Christian mission which is broad enough to include an ‘intentionally-not-speaking-about-Jesus’ approach to development.

This lesson regarding intentionality is significant for organisations, particularly faith-based NGOs, in the development and delivery of health services. Maintaining a clarity of understanding with regard to the organisation’s motivation for engaging in the development sector, or in the delivery of particular services, can contribute to more effective decision-making regarding the delivery and evaluation of services. This is particularly important in development NGOs

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where decisions may be made thousands of kilometres from where the services are actually delivered. The basis on which these decisions are made (such as whether to fund a particular water well or health clinic) will certainly influence the effectiveness of the delivery of that service, as will the relationships (with partner churches for example) through which those decisions are enacted.

The three aspects of accountability discussed in chapter ten – procedural, moral, and legitimising – are critical for any faith-based NGO as it seeks to work in the development sector. The strength of the faith-based NGO, as discussed in chapter six, lies in its values, just as its identity lies in its faith statement. Faith-based NGOs will need to be clear about the relationship of authority with government and the legitimation of its activities through its partnerships so that they are able to balance the expectations and responsibilities of these relationships.

ABM has a useful story to share in that it explicitly holds together its faith-based mission with a faith-based approach to development. Other development agencies which only do development, or only undertake mission, will not, I suspect, experience these polarities to the same degree. However, the lessons learned from ABM’s experience are ones which may assist other agencies, as all faith-based agencies will need to ensure congruence between their values, identity and intentions. The aspect of intentionality becomes crucial when examining how and why decisions are being made for future projects and activities. Every agency, faith-based or not, needs to examine its intentions. Faith-based agencies will need to do this is a particular way, holding up their faith tradition as a legitimating ground which will assist them in making choices and decisions which ultimately affect the health services which are developed and delivered on the ground.

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Because of this, I believe that there is a need for further research in the following areas. While faith-based agencies are a significant component of the aid sector, research explicitly examining the way in which they operate as faith-based agencies is slight. It would be useful to know, for instance, whether being faith- based did make a difference in operational ethos, ethics, decision-making, or willingness to work within the aid sector and with the government; Green et al. (2002) suggest that there is little evidence to demonstrate that it does. Faith- based agencies would like to believe that their faith does make a difference; it would be useful to know whether it was so at the practical level of service delivery.

It would be helpful to know where church-based agencies can make the best contribution. Most church-based agencies operate like ABM, through an international network of denominational churches sharing a common liturgical and theological approach. To what extent does this work penetrate civil society in the country where the development activities take place?

From an organisational point of view, to what extent do the relationships with churches heighten levels of trust and communication across cultures and languages? What difference does the common denominational heritage make enhancing consultation and power-sharing, compared to more secular agencies? And at the home office, how does the faith expressed within an organisation influence the decision making and priorities which determine what development activities are encouraged? As a contribution to an understanding of organisational learning it would also be interesting to look into the extent inquiry outcomes are influenced by the open or bounded nature of the inquiry process itself.

The decision to use a cooperative inquiry method was based on my relationship with the organisation as well as the purpose of the study as it evolved through

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conversation. The questions which staff posed in early discussions about the research involved the organisation’s relationship with the aid sector, the influence of government, and the effects on the organisation of the growing development Program. These questions compelled an approach which was open to critical thinking and discovery, which was inclusive in order to encompass differing perspectives, and which generated useful outcomes for the organisation at the end. A transformative learning approach such as that encouraged by Heron (1996) was clearly appropriate in these circumstances. An ethnographic approach, in which I sat within the organisation but observed with greater detachment, would have denied my own participation in the Community Development Program; likewise, an interview-based participant-observer model would have created far more static results and would not have allowed the iterative emergence of new understanding amongst the staff members. A qualitative or quantitative study which included the voices of a large number of actors – for instance, government staff, representatives of other NGOs, staff of the peak body ACFID – would have provided a broad representation of the issues surrounding faith-based agencies’ interaction with the sector, but would not have allowed for the in-depth knowledge of daily discourse and action which shapes the operations of an NGO.

There were, of course, ways in which the study might have been improved. Heron (1996) and Reason (1988a) both discuss the initiation of an inquiry group, and suggest that the initiating researcher needs to exercise care in being neither too prescriptive nor too flexible in outlining the proposed inquiry. Too focused a process can discourage innovation and discussion; too broad a process can leave participants without clear guidelines for proceeding. In the event, I probably erred on the side of too much flexibility, an inherent trait developed over years as a facilitator; it meant that at times during the year the process felt, to me at least, fuzzy and unbounded. It was only towards the end when we came together at the last meeting, in the throes of the uncertainty generated by the announcement of

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Geoff’s resignation, that I truly understood the power of the inquiry method for creating a breathing space in which collegial learning can take place. Even with this fuzziness, the methodology worked because it brought together people and legitimised their collective reflection. Previously, reflecting on work took place on an ad-hoc basis between various staff, but had not been undertaken formally with staff as a group. This brought opportunities for tension to emerge, but also for dissent to be aired. The research itself then was a catalyst for conversations which might not otherwise have happened.

Is the research method tautological, that is, does the method reinforce what the group thinks already? While I pondered this question at times during the research, I do believe it was a catalyst for moving thinking forward. Between the group of three researchers - Sophie and John and me - there was a great deal of consistency in our thinking, but even within our group ideas progressed as we shared thoughts and experiences. In addition, our team thinking was challenged by Geoff and Carolyn, and to a lesser extent by the Development Committee. These iterative phases of reflection and questioning did refine the group’s thinking and lead to greater awareness and understanding of the agency’s place within the development sector, and the importance of issues of identity and accountability as they relate to the legitimacy of the organisation.

The method is not prescriptive, and this is both a strength and a weakness. I had previously carried out a number of qualitative research projects, and was comfortable and familiar with the qualitative paradigm, although the cooperative inquiry method was new to me. I thought, however, that the makeup of the group would largely dictate the ability of the inquiry process to lead to transformative learning. I surmised that groups that were largely cohesive in their thinking were more likely to create transformative learning experiences than groups that were mixed, depending upon their ability to communicate well with each other. Our

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small group of three was largely cohesive in our thinking regarding development; our larger group of five was distinctly diverse. While our group of three generated many ideas and thoughts during the inquiry, it was actually the diverse group of five which generated the debate where new insights were gained. This demonstrated the importance of giving voice to multiple perspectives, and consequently validated for me the notion of participation as a research paradigm. What we learned was infinitely richer because all five of us were involved in the design, development, and sense-making of the cooperative inquiry.

When all is said and done, this year of research has proved a transformative learning experience for me and my colleagues. The presentation of the secondary meaning of the research – the presentational knowledge of this thesis – is now complete. The primary meaning, co-created by the five of us, remains within the hearts and minds of the participants, and contributes to the ongoing story of the Anglican Board of Mission as we continue to discover how to make space to breathe.

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ACFID Annual Report 2004, Australian Council for International Development, Canberra.

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ACFOA 2003, Matrix of ACFOA member and local partner organisations with programs/projects in Papua New Guinea, Pacific Working Group, Australian Council for Overseas Aid, accessed 18 June 2003, www.acfoa.asn.au/campaigns/pacific/PNG_Matrix.pdf.

Adelman, I. 2000, 'The role of government in economic development' in Tarp, F. and Hjertholm, P. (Eds.), Foreign aid and development: lessons learnt and directions for the future, Routledge, London, pp. 48-79.

Anderson, I. 2005, Fragile states: what is international experience telling us?, Australian Agency for International Development, Canberra.

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Appendix One: Text of article published in Development Bulletin 2004

Kurti, L., Whelan, A., Zwi, A. (2004) “Faith in international development: Evaluating the effectiveness of faith-based NGOs”, Development Bulletin, no. 65, pp. 72-75.

Introduction There has been an increase in recent decades in the involvement of faith-based non- government organisations (FBNGOs) in international development work. This expanding civil mandate arises from a recognition of the role of religious institutions within the community, but is not based on evidence of greater effectiveness of religious rather than secular providers. Rather, this trend reflects a hope that working through religious organisations will succeed where previous development efforts have failed. The potential conflict with respect to how, and how effectively, FBNGOs operate within a global, competitive, and expanding development industry while remaining true to their community origins and spiritual purpose, warrants further examination.

There are hundreds of faith-based non-governmental organisations (FBNGOs) of different religious traditions contributing to social, infrastructure and community development initiatives all over the world. Today, within the Christian tradition alone, the coordinating agency ACT International (Action by Churches Together International), lists a membership of 195 churches and faith-based aid agencies.40 There are also numerous agencies working from the Jewish, Buddhist, Muslim and other religious traditions, with their own doctrinal, cultural and organisational frameworks.41

The involvement of Christian groups in caring for the sick dates back to the earliest days of Christianity, and has a long history within the monastic tradition. The notion of health care as a missionary endeavour became more explicit in the nineteenth century with the expansion of European imperialism (Grundmann 1990). What is new in the latter part of the twentieth century for some religious organisations is an identification of these activities as international development work independent of an overt focus on mission.

In the following pages, we identify several issues related to the development work undertaken by FBNGOs and argue for the importance of research into the work of religious NGOs in order to gain understanding of this large, but under-evaluated, sector within the international development industry.

Faith-based involvement in international development Faith-based organisations are those which explicitly identify with a particular religious tradition. The scope and range of activities undertaken by religious NGOs is substantial. In Australia alone, nearly half of the NGOs currently accredited by the Australian government for international development work are Christian organisations, receiving approximately 35 per cent of total funding to Australian NGOs (AusAID 2003). FBNGOs are actively involved in all aspects of international development, from advocacy at the highest levels (for example, the American Friends Service Committee was a founding partner of the United Nation Development Program’s Civil Society Organisations Advisory Committee),

40 see http://act-intl.org 41 See, for example, www.islamicfinder.org (which lists 93 Islamic relief organisations) and www.Dharmanet.org (which lists a number of Buddhist-inspired development organisations).

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to grassroots community development work in some of the poorest countries of the world (for example, the Anglican Board of Mission Australia’s primary health care projects in Myanmar). Their budgets range from tens of thousands of dollars to multimillion dollar enterprises. While some agencies will emphasise social justice, others self-sufficiency, education and health, still others community building and reconciliation, all religious NGOs seek to act according to their understanding of the teachings of their respective tradition. The extent to which they do so, however, and the contribution which they make to the larger development agenda, is difficult to evaluate.

Issues facing faith-based NGOs in international development Examining the effectiveness of this large and amorphous group of transnational religious agencies creates a unique challenge within the international development sector. While both secular and faith-based NGOs are judged, rightly, on the same criteria of effectiveness, often the mandate underpinning the operation of faith-based agencies is based upon their religious mission, or dependent upon the support of a particular religious or denominational organisation. This means that some FBNGOs operate within two parallel, sometimes conflicting, paradigms. One is the government and industry-led world of international development with its measurable standards, criteria, and accepted processes; the other is the community-led world of the church, mosque or synagogue, with its less tangible, values- based approach based on perceived fundamental truths. This tension impacts upon the way in which FBNGOs evaluate their own work and are evaluated by others. Several areas in which the difference in world views may become evident and impact upon outcomes are outlined below.

Sharing the global health agenda The Millenium Development Goals (MDGs) were adopted by the United Nations in September 2000 to assist developing countries to improve health and sustainable wellbeing and to focus the energies of donor nations. The enormous global investment of time, money and effort over the last few decades arguably has not led to the anticipated reduction of poverty and ill-health. At the same time, there is a clear mandate expressed in the world’s major religious traditions to address the needs of the poor and to alleviate suffering through acts of charity, through redistributive justice, through solidarity and advocacy, and through promoting compassion and mercy.

FBNGOs are, and have been for some time, actively contributing to the MDGs through programs to address, for example, children’s health (Suwito 2001), HIV/AIDS prevention (Anglican Board of Mission 2003a, Caritas Australia 2003), women’s health (Overseas Relief and Aid Fund 1999) and water supply (Anglican Board of Mission 2003b). In many places, religious organisations are the primary suppliers of health and other basic services, and have an historic involvement – sometimes with a legacy of colonial dominance – in providing for health and education needs. In Papua New Guinea, for instance, the churches were the earliest providers of health services and churches and FBNGOs still provide a majority of the health care services (Stein-Holmes 2003).

An increasing amount of funding is being accessed by NGOs generally for the provision of health care in the poorest countries; this includes funding to faith-based as well as to secular NGOs. The World Bank reports that funding to NGOs has increased from 20 per cent in 1989 to 52 per cent in 1999 (Pfeiffer 2003:725). Often the reason for working with NGOs, and specifically with religious organisations, is their reputed networks within local communities which may increase the sustainability and effectiveness of their programs. The effectiveness of health aid often appears to depend less on the actual provision of clinical services than it does on the managerial structures, political engagement, cultural

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impact, and social interaction of the NGO provider (Marcussen 1996, Frenk, et al. 1997, Edwards 1999, Pfeiffer 2003). It is not clear whether FBNGOs who are embedded within the local community are able to more effectively overcome any negative impact of the interventions of international NGOs, and to build sustainable health interventions and services.

Relationships between ‘developed’ and ‘developing’ countries Verhelst (1987) suggests that developed countries can learn much from the wisdom and experience of communities in developing countries. However, this call for reciprocity is mediated through continuing relations of inequity due to the imbalance of financial and other resources flowing from First World countries to those in need. Loy (2003) argues that development has not been effective because the current model of development aid is itself the problem, creating structures which perpetuate the very inequities it is designed to alleviate: …development projects that seek to end poverty by ‘developing’ a society into an economy focused on consumption are grasping the snake by the wrong end. From a Buddhist point of view we should not be surprised that such efforts in social engineering end up creating more problems than they solve (Loy 2003:9). For Loy, religion’s greatest contribution to development is the teaching of values and principles of ‘right living’, which if acted upon will lead people in the developed world to stop perpetuating a cycle of wealth accumulation which perpetuates poverty and oppression. In this argument, then, development will succeed to the extent that religious NGOs are able to share the values of humanity which the world’s religions espouse and to encourage significant changes to life-practices in the over-developed as well as the under- developed world. This is indeed a radical proposition and is untested, although evaluating NGO effectiveness in changing the developed world is an intriguing prospect.

Transnational societies A significant consequence of faith-based international development is the strengthening of transnational societies, particularly Christian and Muslim, which look not only to the local community for a sense of belonging but to participation in a world-wide society of the faithful. However, external perceptions of the place of religion within a community may misrepresent the reality of people’s daily lives in which religious belief is one of many aspects of family and social interaction, decision making, and meaning making. Political exploitation of religious teachings for other ends may not be recognised by those from outside the tradition. At the same time, the uptake of health and other services may depend on the normative acceptability of the way in which services are delivered, for instance recognising a preferred separation of men and women in hospitals or other health settings. Transnational FBNGOs must be careful in the imposition of what may be foreign interpretations of a religious tradition into the development field, as for instance refusing to work with overtly religious organisations which may genuinely be providing for women’s health and social needs within the community (Maoulidi 2003). The effectiveness of development aid programs may depend on the extent to which the locus of power is indigenised and local norms, customs and beliefs are understood by donors.

Role of religion within conflict and peace Debate continues as to the role of religion in armed conflict (Demerath 2004, Juergensmeyer 2004); however, it can contribute to continuing unrest when political or territorial conflicts become polarised due to religious or social differences between the arguing parties. While religious development agencies have a potentially powerful role in working to bring peace to areas of conflict, they also may play a role in maintaining instability in fragile countries by either siding with or against the government in power (Hearn 2001). In some places, religious groups have been able to work at the grassroots

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level to rebuild relationships of trust in conflicted areas, such as the role of the Melanesian Brotherhood in the conflict in the Solomon Islands (Macdonald-Milne 2003).

Independence of action Working with government while remaining a non-government organisation creates tension for many NGOs. NGOs who become too dependent upon government funding may find their independence under threat in the provision of particular services (Loconte 1997). For religious NGOs there is an uneasy tension between remaining separate from structural political systems in order to retain solidarity with their constituency, and working closely enough with political systems to be able to advocate for the poor. Different organisations resolve this tension to different degrees. Many FBNGOs undertake advocacy roles such as negotiating for gender equity in partner organisations (Maoulidi 2003), or working with refugee resettlement (Jesuit Refugee Service 2003). The adoption by FBNGOs of government standards and systems of accountability may challenge organisational norms, and yet is essential for the effective monitoring and evaluation of development projects.

Balancing mission and development Religious agencies which become involved in international development face a continuing challenge of maintaining their specifically religious focus while complying with government donor requirements, including the separation of religious proselytising from development activities. For those FBNGOs for whom development is a means by which evangelisation activities can take place, there is a danger of conversion philosophy distracting from the very real material needs at hand, and for an emphasis on faith to be perceived as intolerance, thus alienating the communities one has come to assist. Faith- based agencies, like all ideologically-based organisations, must walk a fine line between holding to their own foundational beliefs and honouring those who have different beliefs. The difficulty of separating development from Westernisation and an (often unintended) imposition of Western cultural values has been recognised by Bornstein (2001) and others.

A research agenda With the extent of international development conducted by FBNGOs unknown, research into the nature, effectiveness, and impact of work undertaken by these organisations would contribute to the international development industry worldwide. In particular, research projects which provide criteria and standards for evaluation of the impact and outcomes of aid delivered by FBNGOs would be of value. Research into the practices and activities of faith-based agencies would fill a gap in knowledge, as there is a dearth of information regarding the ways in which these agencies negotiate and integrate within the recipient community, their effect on local spiritual and community beliefs, and their effect on local norms and values.

For instance, research into the ways in which religious organisations resolve tensions between community priorities and moral beliefs would help to identify how best to balance religious teachings with the real complexities of human relationships. As development projects move from the transnational operation to the indigenised organisation, research into the assumptions and cultural understandings which faith-based NGOs bring to their work would offer possibilities for understanding the impact of culture and methods for transferring knowledge, skills and new ideas to communities in need in order to build self- reliance, without denying the integrity of local wisdom. It would be useful to know how effective FBNGOs are in making a long-term commitment to a community based on a transnational religious identity rather than on a short-term funding opportunity.

In places where communities have been ravaged by war, research into the work of faith- based NGOs in regions of conflict or post-conflict could identify models for working with

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grassroots faith communities to develop new relationships and just working practices during the process of restoring peace. Knowing whether religious agencies have been more or less effective in crossing lines of conflict would assist in building peace-making strategies for the future.

Building upon their place within grassroots communities, research into the ways in which faith-based organisations work with governments and with local communities to determine needs, secure funding and operationalise programs could assist other faith-based agencies to improve their working practices, build capacity for governance, and ensure fidelity to their aims while retaining cooperative links between the civil society sphere and government. This would assist governments and faith-based NGOs in working effectively across the paradigms of mission and development, which are often seen as synonymous within the religious context but are as often considered conflicting aims by government and secular agencies.

Research issues Potential research questions Global health What is the impact of FBNGO health services on the provision of local heath care? What are the factors which contribute to the effectiveness of faith-based providers? Relations between In what ways do FBNGOs continue in or stand ‘developed’ and apart from historic missionary power ‘developing’ relationships? How do FBNGOs work within countries power structures to engage on a national, regional or local basis? How does that impact upon the provision of health services? Transnational To what extent do FBNGOs work within a agencies transnational or a local paradigm? In what ways are they compatible or do they conflict? What is the effect on health and wellbeing? Conflict and peace How are FBNGOs working to make peace? How making effective are they? What factors contribute to successful peace-making by FBNGOs? Do they ever have a counterproductive effect? Why and how does this occur? Independence On what funding do FBNGOs rely and how does this influence their work programs? How dependent is an FBNGO on government funding for survival? Balancing mission What factors contribute to the effectiveness of and development FBNGO projects? In what ways do FBNGOs incorporate religious witness into development activities? What is the impact of this on health and well-being? How do FBNGOs relate to government? What processes are in place? How do transnational FBNGOs develop partnerships with in-country partners (churches and other agencies)?

Conclusion While the scope of faith-based international development activity is vast, there are many variables which impact upon its operations and effectiveness, such as the relation to

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government; emphasis on evangelism; funding networks and influences; and interactions with and within local cultures. Research could usefully contribute to the knowledge of effective international development programs by examining the work of faith-based organisations. It would assist faith-based agencies to reflect on their working practices and to bridge the conceptual gap between working as an outreach arm of their own faith communities and working as a professional and competitive international development organisation. It would assist secular institutions as well, in understanding the paradigmatic structures in which faith-based NGOs operate. Research would also assist governments who fund faith-based NGOs, and those who receive faith-based agencies into their countries, to understand what particular contribution FBNGOs may make to development, the ways in which they work within local communities, and the possibilities for working together in partnership.

Linda Kurti is conducting research into the provision of health services by faith-based international development agencies. Anna Whelan and Anthony Zwi are the academic supervisors for this work and have commented on successive drafts of the article. The authors are grateful to the Rev. Canon Geoff Smith, Ms. Sophie Davies, and the Rev. John Deane for their comments.

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Grundmann, C. 1990, 'Proclaiming the gospel by healing the sick? Historical and theological annotations on medical mission', International Bulletin of Missionary Research, 14 (3), 120-126. Hansen, T. B. 1996, 'Recuperating masculinity: Hindu nationalism, violence and the exorcism of the Muslim 'other'', Critique of Anthropology, 16 (2), 137-172. Hearn, J. 2001, 'The 'uses and abuses' of civil society in Africa', Review of African Political Economy, (87), 43-53. Heslin, K. C., R. M. Andersen and L. Gelberg 2003, 'Use of Faith-Based Social Service Providers in a Representative Sample of Urban Homeless Women', J Urban Health, 80 (3), 371-382. Hughes, H. 2003,Aid has failed the Pacific, Centre for Independent Studies, Sydney Jesuit Refugee Service 2003, Diakonia, (64), 3-5. Joseph, T. 2003, 'Adopting a rights-based approach to development', Global Future, 14-16. Juergensmeyer, M. 2004, 'Holy orders: religious opposition to modern states', Harvard International Review, 25 (4), 34-38. Kettle, E. 1979,That they might live, f.P. Leonard, Sydney. Kliksberg, B. 2003, 'Facing the inequalities of development: some lessons from Judaism and Christianity', Development, 46 (4), 57-63. Kumar, S. 2003, 'Development and religion: cultivating a sense of the sacred', Development, 46 (4), 15-21. Lanjouw, S., J. Macrae and A. Zwi 1999, 'Rehabilitating health services in Cambodia: the challenge of coordination in chronic political emergencies', Health Policy Plan., 14 (3), 229-242. Lewis, D. 2002, 'Civil society in African contexts: reflections on the usefulness of a concept', Development and Change, 33 (4), 569-586. Loconte, J. 1997, 'The 7 deadly sins of government funding for private charities', Policy Review, 82 28-36. Loy, D. R. 2003, 'The poverty of development: Buddhist reflections', Development, 46 (4), 7-14. Macdonald-Milne, B. 2003,The true way of service. The Pacific story of the Melanesian Brotherhood 1925-2000., Christians Aware., Leicester. Manji, F. and C. O'Coill 2002, 'The missionary position: NGOs and development in Africa', International Affairs, 78 (3), 567-583. Maoulidi, S. 2003, 'The Sahiba Sisters Foundation in Tanzania: meeting organizational and community needs', Development, 46 (4), 85-92. Marcussen, H. S. 1996, 'NGOs, the state and civil society', Review of African Political Economy, (69), 402-423. Oladipo, C. 2003, 'Piety and politics in African christianity: the roles of the church and the democratization process', Journal of Church and State, 45 (2), 325-348. Otter, M. 2002, 'Development planning for a divided society in a failed state: the case of Solomon Islands', Development Bulletin, 60 46-49. Overseas Relief and Aid Fund 1999,ORAF Update, Diocese of Sydney, Sydney Pfeiffer, J. 2003, 'International NGOs and primary health care in Mozambique: the need for a new model of collaboration', Social Science & Medicine, 56 (4), 725-738. Renders, M. 2002, 'An ambiguous adventure: Muslim organisations and the discourse of 'development' in Senegal', Journal of Religion in Africa, 32 (1), 61-81. Robinson, S. and F. Tarp 2000, 'Foreign aid and development: summary and synthesis', in F. Tarp (eds), Foreign aid and development: lessons learnt and directions for the future, Routledge, London. Roy, I. 2003, 'Development and its discontents: civil society as the new lexicon', Development, 46 (1), 80-87. Saovana-Spriggs, R. 2000, 'Christianity and women in Bougainville', Development Bulletin, 51 58-60. Shenk, W. R. 1991, 'Missionary encounter with culture', International Bulletin of Missionary Research, 15 (3), 104-109. Stein-Holmes, R. 2003, The role of churches in development in Papua New Guinea, Australian Agency for International Development, Canberra.

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Appendix Two: ABM’s organisational structure in 2004

ABM Board

National Director Finance Cttee DevCom

Finance Community Dev’t Evangelism & Administration Church Support Promotion & E&CS Cttee Resources

National Director

Finance: Community Dev’t: Administration: Business Manager Program Co-ordinator Executive Assistant Accountant Program Officer Receptionist Ass’t. Accountant Promotion & Resources: Evangelism & Church Support: Co-ordinator Program Co-ordinator Mission Education Officer Administrative Assistant Support Services Manager

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Appendix Three: Memorandum of Understanding

Agreement of Research Process The University of New South Wales Anglican Board of Mission Australia

We agree that the conduct of the doctoral research undertaken by the Researcher within the Anglican Board of Mission Australia will be governed by the following statements:

1. The first point of contact between the Researcher and the organisation is the Development Program Coordinator for any concerns from either party.

2. Regular monthly meetings will be held between the Researcher, the National Director, and the Development Program Coordinator. This will provide the opportunity for emerging themes to be presented and for any concerns to be addressed.

3. ABM is happy to be mentioned publicly as the case study for the research, and will notify relevant agencies that the research is taking place, including but not limited to the following organistions: Anglican Church of Papua New Guinea (ACPNG), Australian Agency for International Development (AusAID), Australian Council for Overseas Aid (ACFOA), Caritas Australia, and the Adventist Development and Relief Agency (ADRA).

4. The Researcher will submit to ABM draft papers and presentations with a requst for feedback within three weeks. Written materials will be provided to ABM electronically when possible, and will be sent to the Personal Assistant to the National Director, who will disseminate the material for consultation. If no feedback is received within the stated time it will be assumed the paper or presentation is satisfactory in its current form.

5. Any conflict or disagreement will be dealt with by open and continuing dialogue between Linda Kurti and the National Director. The UNSW supervisors for the research will be kept informed. The Board of ABM may be informed at ABM’s discretion.

6. The parties agree to the following privacy clauses:

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a. The Researcher agrees to respect the confidentiality of the ABM office and not to comment publicly on matters which are not relevant to the conduct of the research; and b. ABM staff agree to respect the confidentiality of the Researcher’s work, and not to comment publicly on themes, ideas, or emerging understandings before they are published or otherwise made public by the Researcher.

7. ABM acknowledges that: a. the Researcher will require the results of the project, in whole or in part, to be included and published as part of the Researcher’s PhD thesis; b. copyright in the Researcher’s thesis belongs to the Researcher; and c. the right of the Researcher to have the Researcher’s thesis examined is not inhibited.

Upon the reasonable request of ABM, UNSW will ensure that the Researcher’s thesis is kept confidential for a period no longer than 12 months from the completion of the Project. ABM acknowledges the application of the University’s IP Policy: http://www.infonet.unsw.edu.au/poldoc/ippol.htm.

8. This agreement may be reviewed and modified as agreed by both parties.

9. This agreement may be terminated in writing by either party.

Signed:

______Anglican Board of Mission Australia UNSW

______Date Date

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