Negotiating Religion and Development: Identity Construction and Contention in Bolivia 9781138392328, 9780429402258

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Negotiating Religion and Development

This book argues that relationships between religion and development in faith-­ based development work are constructed through repeated processes of negotiation. Rather than being a neat and tidy relationship, faith-­based development work is complex and multifaceted: an ongoing series of negotiations between theological interpretations and theories of human development; between identities as professional practitioners and as believers; between different religious traditions at local, regional and international levels; and between institutional structures and individual agency. In particular, the book draws on a deep ethnographic study of Christian faith-­ based development work in the Bolivian Andes. The case study highlights the importance of seeing theological interpretations as being firmly embedded in local religious and cultural systems involved in a constant process of identity construction. Overall, the book argues that religion should not be seen as homogeneous, or either ‘good’ or ‘bad’ for development; instead, we must recognise that institutional faith-­based identities are constructed in many ways, formal, theological and interpersonal, and any tensions between ‘religious’ and ‘development’ goals must be worked through in an ongoing recognition of that complexity. This book will be of interest to researchers working in development studies and religious studies, as well as to practitioners and policymakers with an interest in faith-­based development work. Arnhild Leer-­Helgesen is Associate Professor at the Department of Global Development and Planning, University of Agder, Norway, and she received her PhD from VID Specialized University, Norway.

Routledge Research in Religion and Development Series Editors: Matthew Clarke Deakin University, Australia

Emma Tomalin

University of Leeds, UK

Nathan Loewen

Vanier College, Canada

Editorial board: Carole Rakodi, University of Birmingham, UK Gurharpal Singh, School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, UK Jörg Haustein, School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, UK Christopher Duncanson-­Hales, Saint Paul University, Canada The Routledge Research in Religion and Development series focuses on the diverse ways in which religious values, teachings and practices interact with international development. While religious traditions and faith-­based movements have long served as forces for social innovation, it has only been within the last ten years that researchers have begun to seriously explore the religious dimensions of international development. However, recognising and analysing the role of religion in the development domain is vital for a nuanced understanding of this field. This interdisciplinary series examines the intersection between these two areas, focusing on a range of contexts and religious traditions. Between Humanitarianism and Evangelism in Faith-­based Organisations A Case from the African Migration Route May Ngo Christianity’s Role in United States Global Health and Development Policy To Transfer the Empire of the World John Blevins Religion and Society in Sub-­Saharan Africa and Southern Asia Carole Rakodi Negotiating Religion and Development Identity Construction and Contention in Bolivia Arnhild Leer-­Helgesen

Negotiating Religion and Development

Identity Construction and Contention in Bolivia Arnhild Leer-­Helgesen

First published 2020 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 52 Vanderbilt Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor and Francis Group, an informa business © 2020 Arnhild Leer-­Helgesen The right of Arnhild Leer-­Helgesen to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-­in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-­in-Publication Data A catalog record has been requested for this book ISBN: 978-1-138-39232-8 (hbk) ISBN: 978-0-429-40225-8 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by Wearset Ltd, Boldon, Tyne and Wear

Contents



Acknowledgements

1 Introduction

vi 1

2 Theoretical perspectives on religion and development

14

3 Religion and development in Bolivia: resistance and decolonisation

30

4 Constructing a faith-­based identity

46

5 Theological frameworks for understanding development

63

6 Faith-­based discourses of development

82

7 Practising integral development

101

8 Unresolved tensions in faith-­based development

123

9 Conclusion: negotiations and contentions of religion and development

143



Appendix Index

147 148

Acknowledgements

My most heartfelt thanks go to the persons who provided me with the rich data material this book builds on, namely the staff in Misión Alianza de Noruega en Bolivia (MAN-­B) and Iglesia Evangélica Luterana de Bolivia (IELB) and community members I met during my fieldwork in Bolivia. They gave me a warm welcome and willingly shared their time and thoughts with me. Several institutions have played key roles in this process, and many persons within each could have been mentioned particularly. In Bolivia, the Instituto Ecuménico Superior de Teología (ISEAT) provided me with an ‘academic home’ for many years. I have attended courses, found relevant literature and engaged with academic discussion partners which have provided me with insights, knowledge and perspectives invaluable to this book and in life. VID Specialized University financed the PhD project underlying this book, for which I am grateful. The Department of Global Development and Planning at the University of Agder (UiA), where I currently work, hosted me as a guest during the write-­up of the PhD thesis and has also been my academic ‘home’ while writing this book. Discussions with colleagues both at UiA and VID have been important during the process. I owe particular gratitude to my supervisors Prof. Kjell Nordstokke and Prof. Marianne Skjortnes, for questions, advice and encouragement. Several others have at different times read and commented on parts of the manuscript, and I am grateful for all their input. My final thanks go to my two little sons and my husband, Bjarte Leer-­ Helgesen, who have been patient, supportive, read and caused necessary ‘disturbances’ during the process of this book.

1 Introduction

Introduction Several years ago, I was present at an event in a school in the immigrant city of El Alto in Bolivia. An evangelical non-­governmental organisation (NGO) arranged a day with celebration and focus on children’s rights. In the city of El Alto, marked by a high percentage of poverty, children’s rights are violated far too often. Family violence is a huge challenge. The leader of the NGO, a pastor, opened the celebration by giving a message. He read a verse from the Old Testament in the Bible and focused on the importance of honouring your parents by being obedient. Through this, he said, you honour God. In a crowd with children on children’s day, many of them living in situations of family violence and abuse, the pastor chose this theological focus. For me, it became an important experience that inspired the topic of this book. How can relationships between religion and development be understood?

Religion and development Neither ‘development’ nor ‘religion’ are terms with a single universally accepted definition. A current widely accepted concept of human development refers to people’s well-­being, which ‘involves wide distribution of the benefits of economic growth; access to assets, livelihood and services; and physical and economic security. Improvements to well-­being imply not just increased material resources and incomes, but also realization of rights, access to opportunities, and the capacity to make the most of them’ (Rakodi, 2012, p.  638). This understanding dominates mainstream discourse in international development cooperation and is also underlying the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). However, it is subject to critique and alternatives from among others religious and Latin Amer­ican traditions. One of the key issues addressed in this book is how the understandings and practices of faith-­based development in local contexts relate to mainstream development discourses on a global level. Religion is likewise a disputed and complex concept, which this book will illustrate. For now, I refer to the understanding of Carole Rakodi, who has written extensively on how to research the link between religion and development: ‘Essentially,

2   Introduction religion is said to be a set of core beliefs and teachings that among other things specify (or suggest) how to live in accordance with the principles of the faith tradition and how society should be ordered’ (2012, p.  640). This definition is open enough to include the multiple foci and perspectives needed to address religion’s role in development, yet it clarifies the relevance of the concept in relation to development thinking and practice. It addresses both discourses (‘core beliefs and teachings’), as well as practices (how these discourses are embodied as actual practices). The role of religion in international development work has been widely recognised and debated over the last 15 years, both from within various academic disciplines as well as among policy and practice actors. Religious leaders and faith-­based organisations (FBOs) are important actors in development, and religion is important for the great majority of people in the regions towards which international development work is directed (Deneulin and Rakodi, 2011; Rakodi, 2015; Swart and Nell, 2016). FBOs have played a significant role in international development from the days of the early missionaries and are currently among the biggest and most influential NGOs in the field (Clarke, 2006). Understanding the religious dimension is therefore essential to grasping the meaning of the values and perspectives in faith-­based development work. The story from El Alto of the theological message chosen on ‘children’s day’ raises questions of how individuals and institutions construct relationships – or non-­relationships – between spheres related to religion and to development. The main question dealt with in this book is how relationships between religion and development are constructed in faith-­based development institutions.1 I argue and demonstrate that a fruitful and new angle to answering this question is to look at processes of negotiation on various levels. The discussion and arguments depart from a multiple case study of Christian discourses and practices of international development in the Andes region in Bolivia. In Bolivia, critical debates on religion and development challenge, and propose alternatives to, global discourses of development. The two cases are institutions which both define their work as ‘diaconal’ and work among the Aymara people in the highlands of the Andes. Diakonia is both a theological term of biblical origin (the Greek term is also used in English) and a concept used to describe Christian social practice. According to the Dictionary of the Ecumenical Movement, it is defined as ‘the responsible service of the gospel by deeds and by words performed by Christians in response to the needs of people’ (White, 2002, p.  305). One of the cases, Iglesia Evangélica Luterana de Bolivia (IELB), is a national Lutheran church formally established in 1959 as a result of missionary work from the USA. The second case, Misión Alianza de Noruega en Bolivia (MAN-­B), is a Bolivian Christian NGO initiated in June 1978 as a result of Norwegian missionary work. Despite the focus on the two national Bolivian institutions, this book presents discussions of issues relevant beyond faith-­based development in Bolivia. I relate to key debates from the extensive amount of research done in the field of religion and development in recent years to demonstrate this. Comparisons with other contexts illustrate that what I name ‘unresolved tensions’ are found at a global level in faith-­based development work. At the same time, references to

Introduction   3 other studies will clearly show how particular contexts – cultural, religious, social and political – determine how relationships between religion and development are constructed on a national, local and individual level. A critical perspective on power underlies the discussion of this book and brings to light multiple and dynamic processes of influence among involved actors on all levels.

Negotiating religion and development Relationships between religion and development are fruitfully understood as negotiations situated in a field marked by unresolved tensions. Faith-­based institutions mediate between religious and development discourses on international, national and local level. Institutions are collectives with a certain level of structure that delimits the actors involved. At the same time, institutions are constituted by individual actors who interpret, reflect and act.2 Hence, constructions of relationships between religion and development must be understood as negotiations both at an institutional as well as individual level. Within an institutional frame, individual staff members negotiate between theological modes of interpretation and theories of human development. Their personal identities – as development professionals, as believers and as individuals with specific cultural backgrounds – play a major role in these negotiation processes. The same aspects influence how identity is constructed at an institutional level. The context of international faith-­based development work is marked by different religious traditions at local, regional and international levels, which are also negotiated. Individual staff in faith-­based development work are constantly challenged and manoeuvre their agency within institutional and cultural structures marked by both religion and development. Faith-­based institutions of development are influenced by their networks, and power relations is a key issue treated in this book. While power in international development is often considered to ‘follow the money’, I will show that the local communities exercise important influence on daily practices of faith-­based development work. As Bolivian institutions IELB and MAN-­B are constituted and formed by their relations to both international networks and the people at the local level towards whom they direct their actions (right-­holders in the communities).3 MAN-­B is supported through a bilateral channel from Norway (the Norwegian Mission Alliance, NMA) and IELB receives support from the Lutheran World Federation (LWF ) as well as from other international institutions. They both work with local communities in rural parts of the Andes. National faith-­based institutions are in a position where they need to negotiate between on one side international theological currents and theories of development, and on the other local interpretations and practices of both religion and development. I argue that a focus on negotiations and unresolved tensions enriches the understanding of faith-­based development work far beyond the Bolivian cases. Three in-­depth studies are particularly fruitful to show how my conclusions from

4   Introduction the case studies in Bolivia are relevant for Christian-­based development work in general. Erica Bornstein’s study The Spirit of Development (2003) provides an analysis of two Protestant NGOs involved in international development cooperation in Zimbabwe. Laura Occhipinti’s study from the North of Argentina, Acting on Faith (2005), discusses the view of development found in two Catholic NGOs engaged in indigenous communities. In the third book, Cement, Earthworms and Cheese Factories, Jill DeTemple (2012) explores how religion and development intersect and are negotiated in rural communities in the Ecuadorian Andes. The differences and similarities between the faith-­based institutions and places studied by Bornstein, Occhipinti, DeTemple and myself bring to light common tensions and how these are negotiated in each specific context. I use the four in-­depth studies to demonstrate that local faith-­based development work involves mediations within the frame of international and national structures marked by different theological discourses, views of development and international networks.

Religion, spirituality and development in Bolivia Questions of relationships between religion and development are particularly interesting to discuss in the current Bolivian context, yet little research is done. The Andean ecumenical institute of theology ISEAT (Instituto Superior Ecuménico Andino de Teología) is one of few actors in the debate. They posed the following questions in a research project in 2007 and 2008: To what extent do religion and spirituality contribute to or present limitations to people’s development? To what extent do development projects take religious and spiritual factors into consideration in their designs and goals? (ISEAT 2008, p. 9)4 ISEAT focuses on religion, theology and society in a country marked by a variety of cultural traditions and social and political challenges.5 The following will briefly introduce how the concepts of religion and development are debated and resisted in Bolivia, both from a perspective of post-­development as well as of theology. The terms ‘development’ and ‘religion’ have been at the centre of both political and academic debates in Bolivia since the indigenous President Evo Morales Aima and his party Movimiento al Socialismo (MAS) took power in 2006. There has been a shift from ‘Western thinking’ to consciously putting emphasis on indigenous philosophy and knowledge as the fundament for constructing a new society. Academics and politicians have engaged in the decolonialisation of religion and development, which are seen as ‘Western’ and as not taking the philosophy and knowledge of the indigenous majority into consideration (Arnold, 2008; Estermann, 2007). Political documents and academics now use indigenous terms to describe the goals and aims of the society (Farah and Vasapollo, 2011; ISEAT and Bread for

Introduction   5 All, 2013; Wanderley, 2011). In the Bolivian Andes, ‘development’ is replaced with the concept suma qamaña in the indigenous language Aymara, or vivir bien in Spanish. Suma qamaña as a concept refers not only to material aspects, but also spiritual conditions for living a good life in harmonious relations with nature, the spiritual world and fellow human beings. The concept of ‘religion’ is equally discussed and criticised as a ‘Western’ concept. While the former Constitution and political documents before 2009 used the term ‘religion’ exclusively, the current political discourse uses both ‘spiritualities’ and ‘religion’. The fundamental critique of development and the new language seen in Bolivia in recent years have engaged scholars in a debate on alternative discourses of development and their significance for political and social change. Post-­development scholar Arturo Escobar asks if the discourse of vivir bien and its political consequences can be considered as ‘alternative modernization, post-­ liberalism, or post-­development’ (Escobar, 2010, p. 1). He considers the ‘crisis of the neo-­liberal model’ and the ‘crisis of modernity’ as the background for the transformations seen in Bolivia in recent years. The first crisis points to the actual historical situation in which neo-­liberal politics weakened the human conditions for the majority in Bolivia. The ‘crisis of modernity’ refers to a struggle between different ontologies, one ‘modern’ in the sense of Eurocentric and liberal, and another indigenous and relational. Relational indigenous ontologies challenge the dualistic ‘modern’ world view. ‘Modern’ ontology is based on the primacy of humans over non-­humans and on hierarchical structures. The freedom of the individual person is given priority and seen as separated from the community. The division of reality into spheres, e.g. seeing economy and religion as independent realms of social practices, is also particular for ‘modern thinking’. The relational ontology of indigenous peoples in Bolivia challenges this ‘modern’ world view, Escobar argues. This is but one example of how alternative discourses to development in Bolivia have inspired new analysis within the field of international development studies. Escobar avoids terms such as ‘spirituality’ and ‘religion’ and only briefly mentions relations to the ‘transcendent’. In this book, I pay particular attention to religion and address how the faith-­based actors interpret development in a context that can be described as marked by ‘alternative modernization, post-­liberalism, or post-­development’ (Escobar, 2010).

Challenging ‘development’ from a theological perspective Theological interpretations of ‘development’ are fundamental in faith-­based development work. Latin Amer­ican theologians have contributed with critique of definitions and projects of development, and from the 1970s many argued that liberation was a necessary process for the region. I address the influence of critical theological discourses, as well as their counter-­discourses, to show how and why the two Christian institutions engage in different development projects in Bolivia. Religion and development have been part of the academic debate in Latin America ever since the birth of liberation theology, and recent years’ considerable

6   Introduction contributions have also come from the ecumenical and evangelical traditions of Protestantism.6 Questions of the human, cultural, social and political conditions of the poor and excluded are framed within theological understandings. The often named ‘father’ of liberation theology, Gustavo Gutiérrez, was concerned with how theology should contribute to the liberation of the ‘poor’ from their material and social poverty ([1971] 2005). Numerous theologians and scholars from other disciplines, both from Catholic and Protestant circles, have continued to use an interdisciplinary approach to questions of development. However, there has been strong resistance from within both Catholic and Protestant churches towards the liberation model of theological thinking, not least because of the more or less legitimate accusations that theologians of liberation are ‘Marxist activists’. Within academic circles, central ideas of liberation theology have survived and have been expanded into theories and themes that recognise the context of multiple excluded groups in Latin America today. These theological ideas inspire and form engagement in social movements’ struggles for justice and equality (Colque and Estermann, 2010). Even though the majority of the academic publications on liberation theology is found among Catholics, Protestant churches and scholars have contributed considerably to the debate on theology and development. Within ecumenical circles in Latin America there has been a process of reflection on diakonia both in churches as well as in academic institutions. Rene Padilla’s and Samuel Escobar’s elaboration of the concept ‘integral mission’ led to a network of scholars and organisations connected to the ‘Kairos’ movement and has a strong impact on the discourse on transformational development of the global evangelical Lausanne movement. Stephen Plant and Daniel H. Weiss (2015) point to three distinctive examples of theological approaches to development on a global level: Catholic social teaching, liberation theology and transformational development. They illustrate the fundamental role of Latin Amer­ican theologians in framing development work in a theological understanding. A key issue of this book is the discussion of how some theological discourses play a role in ‘supporting’ development goals, while others contradict and hinder the fulfilment of such goals.

Methodological and analytical approach In this book, I explore how IELB and MAN-­B construct their faith identities placed in the Bolivian context, marked by political, academic and theological debates on development and religion. Between 2004 and 2013 I worked with questions of religion and development in Bolivia from a student and researcher’s and a practitioner’s position, visiting several times a year and residing in La Paz for two years. I did research on the role of Bolivian churches is social movements and conflicts (Estermann and Helgesen, 2008) and worked in international development cooperation in and with Bolivia for five years before I initiated the PhD project underlying this book. My contact with IELB and MAN-­B initiated in 2004, and this also led to a short voluntary engagement in IELB and one and a half years of administrative work in MAN-­B. Through these years I gained

Introduction   7 experiences and knowledge of the context, religious traditions, development work and the intersections between these. The engagement with IELB and MAN-­B had provided insights into institutional matters and having held roles as both a practitioner and a researcher required constant reflexivity regarding my own position and ethical challenges (Bryman, 2008, p.  268; Leer-­Helgesen, 2017, pp. 99–104). I knew many of the people, places and projects, had walked for hours along irrigation channels together with staff and community members, participated in opening ceremonies and internal meetings and rituals, shared office space and listened to strategic discussions. This facilitated access to the institutions and people, but it also put me in a hybrid and dynamic position as both an ‘insider’ and an ‘outsider’. The main empirical material underlying this book was gathered through fieldwork in March 2011, from August to October 2012 and a follow-­up visit in July 2013. Observation data from institutional practices and field trips, 27 qualitative interviews (see Appendix) and a selection of institutional documents lay the basis for the analysis. IELB and MAN-­B were strategically selected as ‘paradigmatic cases’ based on assumptions of differences in theological justifications for and emphasis of development work (Flyvbjerg, 2001, pp. 150–3). They belonged to different international networks and are distinct types of diaconal actors, as IELB is a church and MAN-­B an NGO. This book argues that their particular institutional positions and social relations influence the discourses and practices of religion and development. The combination of methods and theoretical perspectives in the multiple case study enabled explorations of how people give meaning to their practices and views of development, in light of a religious belief and within an institutional setting. By approaching the faith-­based institutions both on the macro and micro levels, I explored dynamics of ‘lifeworld’ and ‘system features’ and the interrelations between them (Layder, 1998, p. 48). The ethnographic material was analysed with a focus on discourse in its relation to other social elements and a critical perspective focusing on power relations. I understand ‘discourse’ as ways of constructing (presenting) an aspect of the world, or more specifically a relation between religion and development (Fairclough, 2003, p.  11). Discourse refers to ideas (meaning creation) as well as practices (use of language): ‘We do not just mean things with language: we also do things with language’ (Gee and Handford, 2014, p.  1). Discursive practices – the production of text and talk – are social practices that contribute to shaping the world.7 Discourse is produced, reproduced and changed through practices of language use. The shift from service delivery and needs to a rights-­based approach in international development requires increased attention to discursive practices, as ‘cement things’ are replaced by objectives concerned with for example participation and good relations (DeTemple, 2012, pp. 10–11). Development goals such as ‘transformation’ and ‘empowerment’ rely on discursive practices. Diaconal practices are also dependent on words in some form to provide them with meaning from a theological perspective as faith-­based.8 Without discursive practices that construct the meaning of actions through communication of ‘the vertical and horizontal

8   Introduction perspectives’, diaconal actions will not be distinguished from ‘secular’ social practices (Nordstokke, 2009, p.  30). This book explores and emphasises constructions of religion and development through discursive practices. MAN-­B and IELB drew on other discourses from both the religious field as well as the field of development.9 Religious discourses are fundamental for the institutions’ identity as diaconal, and these discourses are embodied as diaconal development practices. Deneulin and Rakodi have made a convincing case for the importance of religious discourses for the actual implementation of development practices: Given that religion is neither a static nor a single variable, we argue that the task for development research is to understand how religious discourses are embodied in certain social practices, how social and historical processes have led to that particular embodiment, and how the religion itself redefines its discourses, and practices, in the light of changing social, economic and political contexts. (2011, p. 51) I apply a critical perspective inspired by critical discourse analysis (CDA). Fairclough argues that a critical stance implies explicit normativity, as ‘researchers have to be aware that their own work is driven by social, economic and political motives’. To be critical, he continues, ‘implies specific ethical standards; an intention to make their position, research interests and values explicit and their criteria as transparent as possible’ (Fairclough, in Wodak and Meyer, 2009, p. 7). Both theology and international development are normative fields, and ethical norms and values are embedded in all ideas of ‘development’. My research is formed by a critical stance seeking to expose established power relations and patterns within both religious and development systems. I am sympathetic to – and yet critically scrutinise – ideas and actors promoting ‘subjugated discourses’ (Escobar, [1984] 2010) in search of social justice and equality.

Outline of the book Theology is part of a larger religious system. In the next chapter, I present five analytical foci to explore the role of religion in faith-­based development: discourse (ideas), practice, community, institution and religious experience (Lincoln, 2003; ter Haar, 2011). I place my discussion within the post-­ development tradition, where investigating ‘subjugated discourses’ as alternatives to development is central (Escobar, [1984] 2010). My understanding of power as dynamic and complex processes of influence is explained as an underlying perspective throughout the book. The second part of Chapter 2 outlines the theoretical debates to which I contribute. The tensions found in the main case studies from Bolivia are not new to researchers of religion and development, but I apply a different angle and take key discussions further. I use Ben Jones and

Introduction   9 Marie Petersen’s (2011) critical review of the research literature on religion and development as a point of departure to structure and discuss key issues. Jones and Petersen present the literature under the headings of three main critiques: it is instrumental, narrow and normative. They demonstrate that the role and distinctiveness of FBOs, a normative debate of religion as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ and the discussion of instrumentalisation of religion for development purposes, are key debates both in research and practice and policy of faith-­based development. I critique and discuss the work of Jones and Petersen based on my own as well as others’ more recent research. From the more general discussion of key debates of religion and development, in Chapter 3 I move to explore how both religion and development are contested terms in the political, cultural and religious context of Bolivia. While much research has approached faith-­based development discourses and practices in contexts dominated by neo-­liberalism (Hefferan et al., 2009), resistance and alternatives to Western models of development frame the discussion in Bolivia. In Chapter 3, I lay the grounds for understanding the importance of contextual factors determinant to faith-­based discourses and practices of development. The two main cases, IELB and MAN-­B, construct their faith identity through negotiations framed by cultural, religious, social and political aspects of the Bolivian society. In Chapter 4, I expose how they construct a distinct identity through formal documents, theological discourses, relationships with other institutions, composition of staff, relations to other faiths and understandings of development. The comparison between MAN-­B as an NGO and IELB as a church shows that they are distinct as faith-­based institutions, but also quite different from each other. Some of the tensions discussed further in this book come to the surface in this chapter, related to the role of local churches, the use of theology, relationships between strategies and practices, the staff ’s religious and cultural identity and power relations within the institutions’ network. In Chapter 5, I explore the different theological discourses which frame the understandings of development. The analysis of theological language in documents and in weekly devotions exposes several theological interpretations competing with and contradicting each other. I show how theological interpretations are embedded in local religious and cultural systems, but also the influence from national and international actors and theological currents. Faith-­based institutions negotiate between different understandings of development and theological interpretations found at local, national and international levels. The terms ‘diakonia’ and ‘integral development’ are found among Christian actors involved in development work globally. Chapter 6 explores how the Bolivian institutions through their discourses of diakonia and integral development construct relations between theological understandings and mainstream visions of development. I argue that these discourses are constituted by negotiations of faith and professionalism and of different theological interpretations, all influenced by both the local level as well as from international partners. IELB and MAN-­B try to harmonise local and national understandings of suma qamaña with their own theological interpretations, I argue. Points of conflict between

10   Introduction discourses of development and theological interpretations are negotiated away or ignored as attempts to mediate possible contentions. Based on this I argue that the idea found among researchers and policymakers trying to separate between ‘religious’ and ‘development’ goals, is at the best a theoretical exercise. In Chapter 6, I also show that international networks to a large degree are able to define the official discourse in both IELB and MAN-­B, while the language used in contact with the communities brings to light the use of ‘alternative’ discourses. Faith-­based institutions negotiate between religious and development discourses with the aim of bridging possible conflicts. Unresolved tensions become more obvious and impossible to escape in the operative work. In Chapter 7, I proceed to look at ‘how and subject to what conditions discourses are operationalized as strategies and implemented’ (Fairclough, 2014, p.  20). The staff working close to and with the local communities, yet within the frames of the faith-­based institutions, encounter dilemmas and tensions on a daily basis. Individuals are influenced by (and themselves influence) institutional discourses and strategies, but exercise agency through ‘translation’, adaption, mediation and resistance on operative level of development work. They negotiate tensions between local people’s religious practices and theological interpretations, their own personal cultural and religious identity and the formal faith-­based identity of the institutions. This has a major impact on daily development practices. Which community practices are ‘acceptable’ to participate in? How is religion used in daily development practices? When do words become the Word? Are the operative practices signs of an ‘alternative’ to mainstream development? The answer to these questions illustrates how negotiations between different aspects of identity and religious traditions are complex in concrete situations of operative faith-­based development work. The negotiations explored in the cases from Bolivia are far from exclusive for these institutions. In Chapter 8, I further discuss the tensions identified in previous chapters and argue that these are relevant beyond the specific cases and context. The ethnographies of Bornstein in Zimbabwe (2003), Occhipinti in Argentina (2005) and DeTemple in Ecuador (2012) play a key role in this discussion. I argue that a focus on negotiations provides a fruitful perspective necessary to understand the complex construction of relationships between religion and development in faith-­based development work. The key role of individual staff ’s agency as ‘negotiators’ between various strategies and practices is illustrated with examples from several studies. The influence of international, national and local discourses and actors in the field of religion and of development, is also explored in other contexts. Power relations are key aspects for understanding such negotiation processes, and the actors involved in international development cooperation are scrutinised from a critical perspective in this chapter. The line of argument in this book leads to the main conclusion that ‘negotiation’ is a key word to a deeper understanding of how relations of religion and development are constructed. It adds complexity and nuances to research debates

Introduction   11 on religion and development. The focus on unresolved tensions and the key role of individual staff in day-­to-day negotiations also holds important insights for policymakers and faith-­based institutions. The last chapter poses suggestions for a research agenda approaching relationships between religion and development as constructed through negotiations.

Notes 1 I use the term construct in line with Fairclough: ‘I use “construe” in preference to “represent” in order to emphasise an active and often difficult process of “grasping” the world from a particular perspective’ (Fairclough, 2014, p. 11). 2 I use ‘institution’ instead of ‘organisation’ to distinguish between and include the two cases, one a church and one an FBO/NGO. An institution is a relatively stable system of social interaction with a formal structure and existence over a longer period of time (Askeland, 2012, pp. 17–38). 3 A meso-­level study like this relates to both macro and micro levels and investigates institutions, organisations or specific sections of society (Hefferan, 2015, pp. 36–52). 4 Spanish–English translations throughout the book are the author’s. 5 The project resulted in four books by researchers from several disciplines and with different perspectives. A more popular-­scientific journal has also been published, entitled Religión y Desarrollo [Religion and Development]. 6 The Protestant tradition in Latin America includes churches in line with and/or members of the World Council of Churches (WCC), as well as those aligned with the Lausanne movement. Protestants are often called evangélicos or cristianos in Spanish, to describe a group different from Catholics. I distinguish between those aligned with WCC, e.g. historical churches such as the Lutheran and Methodist (ecumenical) and the ones in line with the theological thinking of the Lausanne movement (evangelical). These are not clear-­cut lines, as many Protestant churches share traits of both traditions and they use the common term evangélicos. 7 Discursive practice ‘is a social practice that shapes the world. The concept of “social practice” views actions in terms of a dual perspective: on the one hand, actions are concrete, individual and context bound; but, on the other hand, they are also institutionalised and socially anchored, and because of this tend towards patterns of regularity’ (Jørgensen and Phillips, 2002, p. 18). 8 Diaconal practices are not only discursive, but social practices where discourse is one among several elements (e.g. material, social relations). 9 I am inspired by CDA both as part of my theoretical perspectives as well as in analytical approach (see e.g. Fairclough (2003)).

References Arnold, D. (2008). Del desarrollo de la colonización hacia la descolonización del desarrollo. In ISEAT (ed.), Religión y desarrollo en los Andes. Deconstrucción intercultural de una relación difícil (pp. 19–52). La Paz: ISEAT. Askeland, H. (2012). Introduksjon til organisering og ledelse i diakonale organisasjoner [Introduction to organisation and leadership in diaconal organisations]. In Aadland, E., Ledelse i diakonale virksomheter [Leadership in diaconal institutions] (pp.  17–38). Oslo: Akademika forlag. Bornstein, E. (2003). The Spirit of Development. Protestant NGOs, Morality, and Economics in Zimbabwe. New York: Routledge.

12   Introduction Bryman, A. (2008). Social Research Methods. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Clarke, G. (2006). Faith Matters: Faith-­Based Organizations, Civil Society and International Development. Journal of International Development 18(2006), 835–48. Colque, A. and Estermann, J. (eds.) (2010). Movimientos Sociales y Teología en América Latina. La Paz: ISEAT. Deneulin, S. and Rakodi, C. (2011). Revisiting Religion: Development Studies Thirty Years on. World Development 39(1), 45–54. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.worlddev.2010.05.007 DeTemple, J. (2012). Cement, Earthworms and Cheese Factories: Religion and Community Development in Rural Ecuador. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame. Escobar, A. ([1984] 2010). Discourse and Power in Development: Michel Foucault and the Relevance of His Work to the Third World. In International Development, edited by Sage (pp. 175–94). London: Sage Publications. Escobar, A. (2010). Latin America at a Crossroads. Cultural Studies 24(1), 1–65. http:// dx.doi.org/10.1080/09502380903424208 [accessed 10 February 2019]. Estermann, J. (2007). ‘Religión’: un concepto ambiguo y culturalmente determinado. Religion y Desarrollo 1(1). Estermann, J. and Helgesen, A. (2008). Iglesias y conflictos sociales. Posturas de las iglesias en las ‘guerras’ del agua y del gas. La Paz: ISEAT. Fairclough, N. (2003). Analysing Discourse: Textual Analysis for Social Research. London: Routledge. Fairclough, N. (2014). Critical Discourse Analysis. In Gee, J. P. and Handford, M. (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Discourse Analysis (pp.  9–20). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Farah H. I. and Vasapollo, L. (eds.) (2011). Vivir Bien: ¿Paradima no capitalista? La Paz: Plural editores. Flyvbjerg, B. (1991). Rationalitet og magt. København: Akademisk Forlag, 1991. Gee, J. P. and Handford, M. (2014). Introduction. In Gee, J.  P. and Handford, M., The Routledge Handbook of Discourse Analysis (pp.  1–6). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Gutiérrez, G. [1971] (2005). Teología de la liberación: Perspectivas (11th edn). Lima: Centro de Estudios y Publicaciones (CEP). Hefferan, T. (2015). Researching Religions and Development. In Tomalin, E. (ed.), The Routledge Handbook of Religions and Global Development (pp.  36–52). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Hefferan, T., Adkins, J. and Occhipinti, L. (eds.) (2009). Bridging the Gaps. Faith-­Based Organizations, Neoliberalism, and Development in Latin America and the Caribbean. Plymouth: Lexington Books. ISEAT (ed.) (2008). Religión y desarrollo en los Andes. Deconstrucción intercultural de una relación difícil. La Paz: ISEAT. ISEAT and Bread for All (eds.) (2013). Otros horizontes de vida. Diálogos sobre ‘desarrollo’ y ‘vivir bien’. La Paz: ISEAT. Jørgensen, M. W. and Phillips, L. (2002). Discourse Analysis as Theory and Method. London: Sage. Layder, D. (1998). Sociological Practice: Linking Theory and Social Research. London: Sage. Leer-­Helgesen, A. (2017). Negotiating religion and development. Diaconal praxis in the Bolivian Andes. PhD thesis. Stavanger: VID Specialized University. Lincoln, B. (2003). Holy Terrors: Thinking About Religion After September 11. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Introduction   13 Nordstokke, K. (ed.) (2009). Diakonia in Context: Transformation, Reconciliation, Empowerment. An LWF Contribution to the Understanding and Practice of Diakonia. Geneva: Lutheran World Federation. Occhipinti, L. (2005). Acting on Faith: Religious Development Organizations in Northwestern Argentina. Oxford: Lexington Books. Plant, S. and Weiss, D. H. (2015). Theology and Development. Christian and Jewish Approaches. In Tomalin, E. (ed.), The Routledge Handbook of Religions and Global Development (pp. 53–67). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Rakodi, C. (2012). A Framework for Analysing the Links between Religion and Development. Development in Practice 22(5–6), 634–50. doi:10.1080/09614524.2012.685873 Rakodi, C. (2015). Development, Religion and Modernity. In Tomalin, E. (ed.), The Routledge Handbook of Religions and Global Development (pp.  17–35). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Swart, I. and Nell, E. (2016). Religion and Development: The Rise of a Bibliography. HTS Teologieses Studies/Theological Studies 72(4), 1–27. http://dx.doi/org/10.4102/ hts.v72i4.3862 ter Haar, G. (2011). Religion and Development: Introducing a New Debate. In ter Haar, G. (ed.), Religion and Development: Ways of Transforming the World (pp.  3–26). London: Hurst. Wainwright, G. and Webb, P. (eds.), Dictionary of the Ecumenical Movement (2nd edn). Geneva: World Council of Churches and Wm. Eerdmans. Wanderley, F. (ed.) (2011). El desarrollo en cuestión. Reflexiones desde América Latina. La Paz: Plural editores. White, T. J. (2002). Diakonia. In Lossky, N., Bonino, J.  M., Pobee, J., Stransky, T.  F., Wodak, R. and Meyer, M. (2009). Methods of Critical Discourse Analysis. Los Angeles: Sage.

2 Theoretical perspectives on religion and development

Introduction In this chapter, I lay the theoretical grounds for my argument of approaching identity construction and relationships between religion and development as results of negotiations. Identity negotiation can be described as involving processes of ‘careful selection of one among several role identities to engage with a particular communication context’ (Jackson, 2002, p. 360). I explore how individual staff in faith-­based institutions negotiate different aspects of their own identities, as professionals, as believers and as culturally situated. This approach is however also used on the institutional level, as I argue that faith-­based institutions construct their identities through mediations involving aspects of religion, development and sociocultural contexts. As the title of this book clearly states, these processes involve contentions. I do not, however, consider conflict and difference inherently negative, as ‘it just means that two ideas or components are not parallel or the same’ (Jackson, 2002, p. 360).

Exploring religion I approach religion as contextual, as part of a holistic world view and dynamic. Religion is always contextually embedded and must be defined according to the context in question (Deneulin and Bano, 2009, pp. 58–61; Lincoln, 2003, p. 2). The concept of religion is a historical product of seventeenth-­century Europe, when the secular states became independent of a particular way of practising Christianity. Religion then became a domain concerned with the soul and was understood as belief systems (ter Haar, 2011a, pp.  15–16). From the Bolivian context Josef Estermann points to these European historical roots and calls for an ‘intercultural deconstruction of the dominant concept of “religion” ’ (Estermann, 2007, p.  11). He criticises the dominant understanding of religion for limiting the scope for religion in development practice and accuses it for being Eurocentric, too schematic and monocultural. Such conception focuses too much on institutional and doctrinal questions stating what a certain religion is or should be, Estermann claims. Different recent changes within the religious field need to be taken into account for a richer and more pertinent understanding of

Perspectives on religion and development   15 religion, such as new forms of syncretism, fundamentalism and the tendency to pick and choose from different traditions. The most interesting point for my discussion and the Bolivian context is what Estermann describes as a resurgence of religions that were made invisible for a long time. These religions have survived as ‘paganism’ within or at the margins of established religions, or they have been  included in different ways in Pentecostal and charismatic movements (Estermann, 2007, pp.  9–14). Religion, as well as affiliated concepts such as ‘religiosity’, ‘spirituality’ and ‘world view’ should always be critically examined and used appropriately in the concrete context. My second claim is that religion – for the majority of the world’s population – is part of a holistic world view. Gerrie ter Haar argues that a ‘Western’ understanding of religious dimensions in the ‘non-­Western’ world, is based on limited knowledge: Whereas in modern Western societies religion is primarily considered in terms of its ability to provide human existence with some deeper meaning, in many other parts of the world people’s religious consciousness is primarily defined by their belief in the existence of a spirit world, that is, an invisible world believed to be inhabited by spiritual beings. (2011a, p. 10) This is a very general description of religion in ‘non-­Western societies’ and its relevance needs to be evaluated in each concrete context. It is however an interesting and quite suitable description applied to Andean religiosity.1 ‘Andean’ refers to the context of the indigenous peoples living in the highlands of Bolivia, while ‘religiosity’ expresses a way of living, or how people are religious (Rakodi, 2011, p. 51). The Andean world view is based on cosmic relationships, in which ‘reality’ consists of not only visible beings but is also inhabited by spiritual beings. The relationships with spiritual beings are fundamental for living a harmonious life. The ways in which Christianity is understood in the Andean context are also marked by the same world view, and the relationship with God is essential. Ter Haar refers to a holistic perception, where ‘people’s social relations extend into the invisible world in the sense that individuals and communities invest in their relations with spiritual entities in order to enhance the quality of life, in the same way that they try to maintain good relations with their relatives, neighbours and friends’ (2011a, p. 11). The third claim I pose is that religion is dynamic. A number of definitions are focused on religion as a fairly static belief system (Rakodi, 2011, p. 44). In contrast to such ‘system-­thinking’, Deneulin and Bano base their understanding of religion on Alasdair MacIntyre’s ‘tradition of thought’: [A tradition of thought is an] argument extended through time in which certain fundamental agreements are defined and redefined in terms of two kinds of conflict: those with critics and enemies external to the tradition, who reject all or at least key parts of those fundamental agreements, and

16   Perspectives on religion and development those internal, interpretative debates through which the meaning and rationale of the fundamental agreements come to be expressed and by those whose progress a tradition is constituted. (MacIntyre, cited in Deneulin and Bano, 2009, pp. 61–2) The difference from non-­religious traditions of thought is that the religious ones are based on an agreement with a transcendent dimension, which ‘gives them a more absolute, universal and time-­resistant character than non-­religious traditions of thought’ (Deneulin and Bano, 2009), p. 63). When understood as traditions of thought religion is seen as dynamic and in constant change. The faith identity of development institutions is based on assumed fundamental agreements about Christianity. These agreements are however dependent on contextual interpretations, since all theological interpretations are inherently contextual. The interpretations of the fundamental agreements are embodied through faith-­ based practices, and there are disputes between different theological positions based on both internal as well as external critiques. This makes religious meanings dynamic and subject to constant reinterpretations according to the internal and external context of the institutions and in concrete situations. I therefore subscribe to Deneulin and Bano’s conclusion: We have argued that religion is best defined as a tradition, that is, it rests on the fundamental agreement that a good life is one that abides by God’s commands, but that agreement never ceases to be redefined and reinterpreted in the light of the specific social and historical context in which humans live. (2009, p. 70)

Dimensions of religion in development work Inspired by Deneulin and Rakodi (2011, p.  22), I use Bruce Lincoln’s (2003) four dimensions of religion – discourse, practice, community, and institution – to approach faith-­based development work. I adapt these categories to my study of Christian-­based institutions working in the Bolivian religious landscape. I supplement Lincoln’s dimensions with ter Haar’s categories of religious resources for development work, which include attention to ‘religious experiences’ as a key aspect of institutionalised religion (2011a, p. 20). Religious discourses will in this book be shown to play a fundamental role in faith-­based development work. The concerns of religious discourses ‘transcend the human, temporal, and contingent, and ... claims for itself a similarly transcendent status’ (Lincoln, 2003, p. 5). It is not just the content of the discourse that makes it religious, but also the claims to authority and truth. Religious discourse, Lincoln claims, has the capacity to code everything as sacred and frame the interpretations of any aspect of reality. Through use of empirical data, I will illustrate how practices of development are ‘coded’ in a theological framework. By religious discourse I refer mainly to theology, expressed formally or through individuals’ interpretations.2

Perspectives on religion and development   17 Religious practice is the way people act based on ideas or discourses (Lincoln, 2003, p. 6; ter Haar, 2011a, pp. 8–9). Rituals and ethical practices operationalise and embody the religious discourses and take them from ‘the realm of speech and consciousness to that of embodied material action’ (Lincoln, 2003, p.  6). Ethical practices in faith-­based development aim at making life better for vulnerable groups. Rituals, such as the weekly devotions I studied in IELB and MAN-­B, are essential to the faith identity of the institutions. Development practices of the faith-­based institutions are provided with meaning through theological interpretations: ‘No practices are inherently religious, and any may acquire a religious character when connected to a religious discourse that constitutes them as such’ (Lincoln, 2003, p. 6). Hence, the construction of a latrine in the community of Aguas Blancas can only be considered an ethical diaconal practice when constituted as such through theological discourse. I look for not only theoretical articulations of theology, but also theology expressed ‘in terms of an activity, a process, a way of living’ (Bevans, 2002, p.  74). Theology refers to a scientific discipline, marked by the written form. Much theology is however expressed through for example psalms, embodied in rituals or as art (Bevans, 2002, p. 17). Embedded and contextual interpretations of theology are found not only as planned and strategically spoken and written words, but also as assumptions that influence discourses and practices in faith-­based institutions. Both the main cases, IELB and MAN-­B, are religious communities, although quite different ones. They ‘construct their identity with references to a religious discourse and its attendant practices’ (Lincoln, 2003, p. 6). Even at points of disagreement the members of communities refer to the same framework of interpretation, as ‘individual and collective identities come to be embedded in groups that are bound together in this fashion’ (Lincoln, 2003, pp. 6–7). Identity is constructed and upheld with references to religious discourse and practices, and borders regulate the identity of belonging or not. I show how IELB as a church community was held together by Andean contextual Lutheran theology and its embodied practices. MAN-­B, on the other hand, was held together by a more specific discourse and practice of faith-­based development, in the frame of a general Christian evangelical discourse. Identity construction and the borders that delimit them from different ‘others’ were constitutive for both. These ‘others’ were not least defined according to religious categories. As communities MAN-­B and IELB contributed to construct and uphold the individual staff ’s identity, at least in the frame of their professional roles. In Chapter 4 it will become clear that both the institutional as well as the staff ’s professional identity was connected to belonging to IELB and MAN-­B as religious communities. The fourth domain borrowed from Lincoln is religious institutions: ‘An institution that regulates religious discourse, practices, and community, reproducing them over time and modifying them as necessary, while asserting their eternal validity and transcendental value’ (2003, p. 7). As institutions, IELB and MAN-­B reproduced, regulated and modified discourses, practices and communities to maintain the faith base of their work. Leaders in the institutions, as well as those considered to be ‘experts’ within the field of theology or development, were central in ­defining

18   Perspectives on religion and development the discourses and their embodiment. Questions of how the institutional frame of IELB and MAN-­B regulated faith-­based discourses, practices and community are cross-­cutting in this book. The agency of the individual staff, limitations of formal strategies, and the influence of international partners and local communities impact the way faith-­based discourses, practices and community dimensions are reproduced and changed. Despite Lincoln’s focus on formalised world religions as a basis for his categories, I found them useful in clarifying dimensions of religion within Bolivian Christianity and the faith identity of IELB and MAN-­B.3 It was however necessary to complement them with ter Haar’s category of ‘religious experience’, which addresses ‘the psychic attitudes that religion may induce particularly in individuals, such as the subject experience of inner change or transformation’ (2011a, pp. 8–9). The psychological dimension was important to explore the role religion played for the motivation of the staff, but also how use of religious language was presented as a resource in inspiring communities for transformation. The category of religious experience serves to highlight individual persons’ theological interpretations and faith and their constitutive role for the institutional faith-­based identity.

Searching for development Post-­development thinkers have challenged the meaning of the term ‘development’ and criticised it for being ‘a reflection of the Western hegemony of the world’ (Bull and Bøås, 2010). Western actors’ definitions of development have a long history of dominance and exclusion of perspectives from the global South (Escobar, [1995] 2012). I have several reasons for taking post-­development thinking as a point of departure. First, it contributes to understanding the political and academic context in Bolivia, where the indigenous concept suma qamaña challenges what is seen as a Western concept of development. Second, post-­development thinking is open for the inclusion of a spiritual dimension of development, as it encourages ‘subjugated’ views of what a good life means. Third, I share a focus on discourse and power with Arturo Escobar, expressed in his central contribution on the influence of Foucault’s thinking on post-­ development (Escobar, [1984] 2010). Escobar argues that there are different discourses of development, often competing. The main development discourse on a global level is based on a Western definition on what development is, and there is a need for the ‘subjugated discourses’ of the poorer countries and the excluded groups to challenge the dominating discourse. An underlying question in this book is whether the diaconal praxis of IELB and MAN-­B can be understood as ‘subjugated discourses’ that challenge mainstream discourses of development.4 Both historically and in contemporary debates in international development, different schools or paradigms define what development is and how to reach it. International development as an academic field and global debate surged after the Second World War. The focus was then on how the underprivileged of the world could reach development through modernisation, economic growth and

Perspectives on religion and development   19 industrialisation. Since then the quest for defining what development is and how to reach it has led to several shifts in development paradigms. The modernisation school of the 1950s and 1960s was followed by the critical paradigm of dependency theory in the 1960s and 1970s. The neo-­liberal economic strategies came to dominate from the 1980s, putting private actors as the drivers of national development. The aim was still economic growth. The neo-­liberal structural adjustment programmes led to increased inequality, the failure to meet social needs and thus to popular protests in many countries. In the 1990s the critique of the focus on economic growth in development reached the international arena, and attention was paid to human development and the need for sustainable development and protection of the environment (Deneulin, 2014, p.  39). Until fairly recently, the last ‘rupture’ was the post-­development paradigm, which questions the concept of development itself (Bull and Bøås, 2012, pp. 319–36). The most current debate is linked to the fundamental ideas behind the SDGs, and to what degree these represent ‘a changing global development agenda’ (Scholte and Söderbaum, 2017, pp. 1–12). As a backdrop for my discussion, this historical presentation, with all its limitations, serves to show how the term ‘development’ has been debated ever since it surged onto the global political and academic arena. While some ideas and concepts fade away, others survive through shifting times and are used extensively (Chambers, 1997, p. 9). ‘Empowerment’, ‘participation’, ‘transformation’ and ‘faith-­based’ are examples of ‘buzzwords’ frequently used in the human development paradigm and current research, policy and practice of development (Cornwall, 2007). There has been a major shift in the international development discourse from a focus on things and infrastructure to people and capacities, and human development became a mainstream term after the first Human Development Report was published in 1990. Perspectives might vary, but there is wide agreement that the human development approach ‘is about expanding the richness of human life, rather than simply the richness of the economy in which human beings live’ (UNDP, n.d.). Séverine Deneulin calls this shift from what people have to how people live the ‘wellbeing turn’ in international development. She argues that development is and has been a contested term because it is closely connected to ‘living well’ or ‘liv[ing] better lives’ (Deneulin, 2014, p. 12). Well-­being as a focus in development theory has two dimensions, which address both an individual and structural level. Subjective well-­being is concerned with how satisfied people are with their lives, while objective well-­being is observed through access to basic welfare such as education, health, work and security (Deneulin, 2014, pp. 39–40). The rights-­based approach (RBA) is part of the same change in perspectives and has been incorporated by many FBOs as a key discourse, for example in discussions on criteria and values in diaconal work (Nordstokke, 2009). Broadly defined, RBA approaches seek to integrate the human rights framework in development thinking and practice. Questions of accountability, participation and empowerment lie at the core of this approach. Claim-­holders are to be identified and their corresponding duty-­holders held accountable for their positive as well

20   Perspectives on religion and development as negative obligations within the human rights framework. Empowerment is seen as a key term in these approaches, considering people as right-­holders rather than beneficiaries. The goal of development processes is for people to access spaces in which they exercise power, using their capacities and capabilities to improve their own life conditions (Bull and Bøås, 2010, pp.  xxxviii– xxxix). Robert Chambers’s ‘Participatory rural appraisal’ (PRA) has had considerable influence, promoting local knowledge as a source of expertise in development and the participation of communities as fundamental for an empowering practice (1997). Throughout this book I explore how IELB and MAN-­B’s understandings of development relate to and are influenced by international changes and discourses of development.5 The focus on human development and perspectives such as well-­being, empowerment and inclusions of what people themselves value, are also shared by discourses of diakonia (Dietrich et al., 2014, pp.  1–9; LWF, 2009). Such approaches have given room for contextual discourses and practices that include a religious dimension. ‘Alternative’ development perspectives have also emphasised the role of women and indigenous peoples and promoted ‘local ownership’, participation and sustainability in development. I will in the coming chapters scrutinise whether IELB and MAN-­B as faith-­based actors have made use of such increased space to challenge established systems and power structures.

Power and resistance in faith-­based development work In the chapters that follow discussions of contention and negotiations pay particular attention to social power as influence (Scott, 2001, pp. 1–16). To exercise power is to guide the possibility of conduct and influence the outcome. In a broad use of the term it is about ‘government’, meaning to lead and ‘structure the possible field of actions of others’ (Foucault, 1982, p.  790). Complex dynamics of power and resistance among actors and ideas in faith-­based development work are exposed in the case studies from Bolivia. Different actors are positioned to ‘act upon the actions of others’ and exercise ‘government’ over decisions and ways of acting and communicating (Foucault, 1982). The dynamics of power cannot be adequately understood through looking for domination, coercion and use of force, in line with what John Scott names ‘mainstream’ approaches to power. ‘Second stream’ understandings of power as strategies and techniques, diffused in society and with a productive aspect, are keys to understand how power and resistance are simultaneously present (Scott, 2001, pp.  6–12). Scott argues that both approaches should be combined by studying ‘two complementary modes of power’ in concrete situations and contexts: Corrective influence and persuasive influence are the elementary forms of social power. While each depends on the use of resources, the type of resource and the ways in which they are used differ. The resources that are

Perspectives on religion and development   21 involved in these forms of influence are those that can be put to use as sanctions or that can be offered as reasons for acting. Concrete patterns of power combine corrective and persuasive influence in various ways, forming both stable and enduring structures and domination and more fluid structures of interpersonal power. (2001, pp. 12–13) One of the research questions underlying this book has been who and what influences the strategies of faith-­based development institutions. Scott refers to power relations between a ‘principal’ and a ‘subaltern’ where the first ‘exercises power, while the subaltern is affected by this power’ (2001, pp. 2–3). I discuss who can be considered as principals and subalterns in different situations, both on the individual as well as the group level. What refers to the resources used to influence, and from this follows an analysis of how this influence is exercised in the field of faith-­based development. Resources of corrective influence in faith-­ based development work are without doubt available for actors involved at various levels, such as monetary sanctions or awards, evaluation and control processes or forms of social control. Looking at persuasive influence is however even more interesting, as it ‘operates through the offering and acceptance of reasons for acting in one way rather than another’ (Scott, 2001, p.  13). The ability to persuade might lie in the personal qualities of an individual, but it is particularly dependent on shared normative cognitive symbols: Shared cognitive meanings and shared value commitments are bases on which intrinsically appropriate reasons for action can be offered to others and regarded as plausible by them. A particular course of action comes to be seen as morally or emotionally appropriate. These resources are those that Bourdieu (1979) has called ‘cultural’ or ‘symbolic capital’. (Scott, 2001, p. 13) Shared cognitive meanings and value commitments on an institutional level in IELB and MAN-­B are found both in discourses of development as well as theology. These discourses and their embedded practices give directions for individuals on how to act in a morally correct way. Cognitive meanings attached to what development ‘is’ and shared values found in international development policies, are resources for persuasive influence. Theological interpretations and religious practices are also resources for persuasive influence and might even function as a resource for corrective influence. To appear as a channel of and speak on behalf of God, is a powerful position to claim. The power of religion – or God – in development is contested terrain. Deneulin and Bano argue that the embodiment of theology in concrete social practices is a field of argumentation among the religious community: ‘This continuous argument about a religion’s fundamental agreement gives religion a non-­homogeneous character and leaves it vulnerable to abuses of power – one group imposing on the whole community its own interpretation of God’s commands and their embodiment in local

22   Perspectives on religion and development r­ ealities’ (2009, p. 70). Theology in Christian development work is a field of disputes and negotiations on how to embody the ‘Word of God’, marked by processes of power and resistance. Throughout this book I show how resistance is always part of the same processes as power, and a key to understand both contention and negotiations. For Foucault, a power relationship is dependent on ‘the other’ as a person who acts and has a whole field of responses available: When one defines the exercise of power as a mode of action upon the action of others, when one characterizes these actions by the government of men by other men – in the broadest sense of the term – one includes an important element: freedom. Power is exercised only over free subjects, and only insofar as they are free. By this we mean individual or collective subjects who are faced with a field of possibilities in which several ways of behaving, several reactions and diverse comportments, may be realized. (1982, p. 790) There are obvious challenges associated with considering subjects in any power relationship as ‘free’ to act in any way that they wish, as they are embedded in complex social, economic, religious, cultural and political structures that might limit their possibilities. I address resistance both as protest against Western discourses of and guidelines for development, but also as the negotiations and recontextualisations that are enacted on an institutional as well as personal level. The indigenous peoples in Bolivia have historically been marked by resistance and survival despite violence and repression. Resistance, adaption and negotiations can be considered as part of the cultural identity of Aymaras in the highlands.

Instrumentalisation of religion or of development The influence of faith-­based actors in international development has led to an increased focus on the interlinkages of religion and development the last 15 years.6 Ben Jones and Marie Juul Petersen’s (2011) critical review of research literature on religion and development offers perspectives to discuss more recent publications as well as my own case studies. They address the research literature under three main critiques: instrumental, narrow and normative. In the following, I engage with their conclusions, complement their presentation with other and more recent research, and place this book in relation to their critique. Jones and Petersen argue that most research in the field approaches religion mainly (or only) as a useful resource to reach development objectives. The focus is often on religious organisations as ‘relevant and useful tools in carrying out development work, capable of facilitating processes of development based on organisational features such as their historical rootedness, popular legitimacy, infrastructure, networks and motivation’ (Jones and Petersen, 2011, p.  1296). This is often considered as an added value or comparative advantage of faith-­ based actors. The reason why the instrumental approach dominates the research,

Perspectives on religion and development   23 Jones and Petersen argue, is that the initiatives to start a debate on religion and development, and much of the funding for associated research, were taken by NGOs and donors: The lack of research away from these initiatives means that the relationship between religion and development is aligned with an instrumentalist interest in the positive role religion or religious organisations may play in donor-­ funded development efforts, thus overlooking other, more complex, aspects of the nexus between religion and development. (2011, p. 1297) Many publications approach religion primarily as a possible resource for reaching development goals, and this is problematic if they mainly aim at confirming religion as only positive in development work and serve to strengthen FBOs’ influence. A critical awareness of the double role of religion must be a basic assumption entering the field, as religion might be used to promote as well as hinder human well-­being. In my own review of the research, I found that a number of scholars have addressed problematic sides of faith-­based development work, for example linked to questions such as gender equality and human rights (e.g. Deneulin and Bano, 2009; Fretheim, 2012; Tadros, 2010; Tomalin, 2013; Tønnessen, 2012). Jones and Petersen do not address such critical contributions in their review. They also seem to assume that it is outside the interest of policymakers and FBOs themselves to address possible challenges associated with faith-­based development work. Their conclusion that most of the research aims at strengthening cooperation with religious actors is also contradicted by Michael Jennings in a more recent article on FBOs and development. He argues the opposite and states that donors and academics assume that religion plays a strong role in ‘fermenting divisions, tensions, conflict and discrimination’ (Jennings, 2013, p.  359). My own perspective, based in research and experience from policy and practice, is rather that FBOs have both possibilities and limitations that they do not share with non-­religious NGOs (Hoffstaedter and Tittensor, 2013; Jennings, 2013). The present study is motivated by the interest of contributing with nuances and differentiated insight through addressing both the pitfalls and possibilities in faith-­based development. Jones and Petersen, in their critique of instrumental approaches, ignore the insight that development goals can also be religious goals. For many religious actors, development work is a resource to reach religiously based goals and values. The concept of the ‘Kingdom of God’, based on theological interpretations of justice and inclusion, is the horizon for most Christians. This horizon and ‘goal’ are why many – if not most – Christian institutions engage in development work. They wish to promote the Kingdom of God. It therefore becomes a question akin to that of the egg and the hen: is development work an instrument for religious goals, or is Christianity used as an instrument for development goals? Many FBOs claim that objectives are connected and integral, but I argue that it depends on the goals in question. There are objectives that fit well with

24   Perspectives on religion and development common and general theological positions, such as e.g. love for the neighbour and justice. Other themes, such as gender equality, rights of lesbian, gays, bisexual, transpersons and safe abortion are more problematic for many Christian development actors. Development objectives might also have an impact on theological positions, since a theological legitimation for their work is often required as part of integral thinking. In a case study of a Christian FBO in Guatemala, I exposed how the development sector’s attention to gender equality opened up and changed theological reflections on gender discrimination (Leer-­Helgesen, 2016). The present book is a contribution to understanding complex relations between religious and development goals and the difficult exercise of trying to connect or disconnect these in practice. Through looking in depth on a faith-­ based NGO and a national church I explore different objectives and priorities. IELB’s primary reason for existence is to be a church and share the Gospel in words and deeds. MAN-­B on the other hand, has development work as their main task and reason for existing.

The role of FBOs and their characteristics The second critique Jones and Petersen put forward is that the research on religion and development has a narrow focus on mainly ‘formalized religious actors engaged in development work’ (2011, p.  1297). The primary scope has been FBOs’ institutional and organisational aspects, and little interest has been taken in rituals, tradition and belief. Limited attention has been paid to religious expressions outside those that are formal and organised, Jones and Petersen argue. This again has been narrowed down primarily to research on Christian organisations, with much less attention to other world religions. I find it necessary to point to the number of exceptions in recent years, as several handbooks and anthologies present research on religion and development from different parts of the world (e.g. Clarke, 2013; Hefferan et al., 2009a; ter Haar, 2011; Tomalin, 2015). Even though there is a considerable focus on Christian actors, different Christian traditions in a variety of contexts are addressed. The nexus of Islam and development issues has also been treated extensively. Other world religions are less studied, but the lack of local and complex religious contexts is even more obvious. This book to some degree falls within the scope of Jones and Petersen’s critique, as the focus in my own, Occhipinti’s (2005), DeTemple’s (2012) and Bornstein’s (2003) research is on Christian institutions and contexts. However, my own case study approaches Christian experiences as contextual, marked by localised and Latin Amer­ican interpretations and expressions of Christianity and Andean indigenous religious traditions. My claim is that religious systems in all faith-­based institutions are influenced by international relations as well as by the community level. This book is therefore a contribution to disclose ‘religious systems that are more localized and particular in nature’ (Jones and Petersen, 2011, p. 1298). Both the religious systems of IELB and MAN-­B, as well as the

Perspectives on religion and development   25 broader context of the Andes, are ‘localized’ and ‘particular’ expressions of encounters of traditions. The studies from Zimbabwe, Argentina and Ecuador, primarily discussed in Chapter 8, uncover how each place represents contextual forms of Christianity, yet all are influenced by global theological discourses. Jones and Petersen claim that the term FBO is used quite narrowly in research. A whole range of religious actors are often grouped under the headline of FBOs, without sufficient reflection on their differences. The main point in much research, they argue, is to contrast FBOs with secular organisations. Jones and Petersen request for research that explores ‘the different ways in which faith or religion is signified and practiced in these organisations, something that requires micro-­level ethnographic or sociological work’ and solicit ‘hermeneutic, interpretive studies of intersubjective meanings’ (2011, p.  1298). While it is commonly accepted that religion plays a role in development, little micro-­level research has been done on how it plays a role. I use ethnographic methods in the investigation of the institutions to gain insight into ‘the meanings the people give to their social practices and religious attendance’ (Jones and Petersen, 2011, p.  1298). DeTemple’s (2012), Bornstein’s (2003) and Occhipinti’s (2005) research have also contributed to filling such research gap. Jones and Petersen’s critique of the lack of focus on differences between FBOs falls short when looking at recent research contributions. There are a number of publications addressing the complex nature of FBOs and the problematic aspect of grouping such different actors together under one term. Several typologies have been made to try to differentiate between types of relationships with religion (Clarke, 2006; Hefferan et al., 2009a; James, 2009; Sider and Unruh, 2004; van Wensveen, 2011). However, most research focuses on faith-­ based NGOs, while less is found on how religious institutions such as churches or mosques, engage in development work. This book sheds light on differences and similarities between a Christian church and an NGO by comparing their work in the same geographical area and with similar discourses and topics.

The normative enterprise of development work The third criticism Jones and Petersen pose is that much of the research on religion and development builds on the assumption that FBOs and religious actors are ‘apart from ‘mainstream development’, somehow more radical and alternative’ (2011, p. 1299), and that development is understood as what development agencies do. Religious actors are perceived as having an ‘alternative’ view of development by not focusing primarily on the economic aspect. Jones and Petersen argue that there is a tendency for researchers to present religiously inspired development work ‘as somewhat better and more authentic than other forms of social action’ (2011, p.  1299). They criticise Clarke and Jennings’s position that ‘the language of faith’ often reflects the cultural norms of poor areas better and helps individuals to understand the global discourses of social justice, rights and development in a more efficient way than secular development discourses are able to. There is a double discourse in this, Jones and Petersen

26   Perspectives on religion and development argue. On one side religious values are presented as a challenge to mainstream development, while on the other side they function as a bridge to promote values of mainstream development (Jones and Petersen, 2011, pp. 1299–300). I agree that there is a tendency both in research communities as well as in the policy and practice field of international development to consider religious actors as distinct from non-­religious actors. There are good reasons for claiming that a religious world view opens up to a more integral approach to human needs and that religious language can articulate objectives of human well-­being differently. Yet the assumption that there is an ‘alternative’ or distinct view of development that is primarily based on being faith-­based has several problematic aspects. ‘Mainstream development’ is not a clear-­cut and well-­defined category. Jones and Petersen do not problematise this in their critique and neither do several of the researchers who claim that religious values provide an alternative. If ‘mainstream development’ refers to an economic focus, many religious traditions might provide an alternative. However, they can also strengthen a focus on economic prosperity with a theological understanding of this being God’s blessings. Today mainstream development approaches do not have a primary focus on economic issues, and religious actors are among the participants who define development goals and strategies globally.7 Well-­being, sustainable development, local participation, empowerment, gender equality, etc., are key ideas in human development thinking. These terms might gain theological approval or disapproval depending on the religious tradition and its leaders. Hence, the assumption that religion leads to ‘alternative’ views must be studied in particular case studies, due to the variety of how religious actors relate to and reflect on development ideas. In Bolivia there is another dimension that influences institutions’ relation to ‘mainstream’ development, namely the discourse of suma qamaña and resistance to a ‘Western’ understanding of development. Therefore, I will not only discuss theological discourses in relation to mainstream development, but also in relation to the ‘alternative’ discourse of suma qamaña. I make an analytical distinction between the discourses and the practices of the faith-­based institutions to address whether they provide an ‘alternative’ to mainstream development. What appears to be an ‘alternative’ or distinct language of development might often not be operationalised in projects and actions. This last point is absent in Jones and Petersen’s reflection and is frequently overlooked in research on the distinctiveness of FBOs’ view of development. This chapter has clarified my approach to religion, development and power as dynamic and complex social phenomenon that need to be explored in relation to the context in which they are situated. The next chapter discusses the political, religious and sociocultural contexts in which IELB and MAN-­B constructed their faith identities and negotiated discourses and practices of religion and development.

Perspectives on religion and development   27

Notes 1 I use this term in line with Estermann to describe ancestral religious traditions and practices, in their various integration with Christianity. He uses ‘Andean religiosity’ and ‘Andean religion’ synonymously (2008, pp. 179–82). 2 Ter Haar uses ‘religious ideas’ with reference to what people actually believe and why. The difference compared to Lincoln lies in the epistemology: while ter Haar argues for the study of what people ‘actually believe and why’, discourses are merely the way people present aspects of the world. The focus for both, though, is that there is a structure of beliefs (ideas or discourses) related to religious practices (2011a, p. 8). 3 This does not mean that I neglect the less organised Andean religion, but that Lincoln’s dimensions are useful to approach religion as it appears in the institutional setting of IELB and MAN-­B. 4 ‘Praxis is a technical term that has its roots in Marxism, in the Frankfurt school (i.e. J. Haberman, A. Horkheimer, T. Adorno), and in the educational philosophy of Paulo Freire. It is a term that denotes a method or model of thinking in general, and a method or model of theology in particular’ (Bevans, 2002, p.  71). While ‘social practices’ refers to what people do (actions), ‘praxis’ implies that the actions are critically reflected on. Empirically I studied the institutional fields of MAN-­B and IELB as social practices, which consists of both planned and objective-­oriented professional actions (praxis) as well as ways of acting that are not necessarily consciously or critically reflected on. 5 It is important to clarify that the SDGs, approved in 2016, were not part of the ‘horizon’ when I did my fieldwork in Bolivia in 2012. 6 For an extensive, yet not exhaustive, overview, see Swart and Nell (2016). 7 Key global actors in the development debate is e.g. the WCC and a number of FBOs with different religious identities. Scholars have argued that secular development is a descendant of historical Christian missionary activities (Fountain, 2015; Plant and Weiss, 2015).

References Bevans, S. B. (2002). Models of Contextual Theology. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis. Bornstein, E. (2003). The Spirit of Development. Protestant NGOs, Morality, and Economics in Zimbabwe. New York: Routledge. Bull, B. and Bøås, M. (2010). Introduction: Introducing International Development. In Bull, B. and Bøås, M. (eds.), Theories of Modernization and Economic Growth (vol. I, pp. xvii–xliv). London: Sage. Bull, B. and Bøås, M. (2012). Between Ruptures and Continuity: Modernisation, Dependency and the Evolution of Development Theory. Forum for Development Studies 39(3), 319–36. Chambers, R. (1997). Whose Reality Counts?: Putting the First Last. London: Intermediate Technology Publications. Clarke, G. (2006). Faith Matters: Faith-­Based Organizations, Civil Society and International Development. Journal of International Development 18(2006), 835–48. Clarke, M. (ed.) (2013). Handbook on Research on Development and Religion. Cheltenham/Northampton, MA: Edward Elgar. Cornwall, A. (2007). Buzzwords and Fuzzwords: Deconstructing Development Discourse. Development in Practice 17(4–5), 471–84. https://doi.org/10.1080/09614520701469302 Deneulin, S. (2014). Wellbeing, Justice and Development Ethics. Abingdon, Oxon/New York: Routledge.

28   Perspectives on religion and development Deneulin, S. and Bano, M. (2009). Religion in Development: Rewriting the Secular Script. London: Zed Books. Deneulin, S. and Rakodi, C. (2011). Revisiting Religion: Development Studies Thirty Years On. World Development 39(1), 45–54. http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.worlddev.2010.05.007 DeTemple, J. (2012). Cement, Earthworms and Cheese Factories. Religion and Community Development in Rural Ecuador. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame. Dietrich, S., Korslien, K. K., Nordstokke, K. and Jørgensen, K. (2014). Introduction. Diakonia as Christian Social Practice. In Dietrich. S. et al. (eds.), Diakonia as Christian Social Practice: An Introduction (pp. 1–9). Oxford: Regnum Books International. Escobar, A. ([1984] 2010). Discourse and Power in Development: Michel Foucault and the Relevance of His Work to the Third World. In International Development, edited by Sage (pp. 175–94). London: Sage Publications. Escobar, A. [1995] (2012). Encountering Development: The Making and Unmaking of the Third World. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Estermann, J. (2007). ‘Religión’: un concepto ambiguo y culturalmente determinado. Religion y Desarrollo 1(1), 9–14. Estermann, J. (2008). Si el Sur Fuera el Norte. Chakanas interculturales entre Andes y el Occidente. La Paz: ISEAT. Foucault, M. (1982). The Subject and Power. Critical Inquiry 8(4), 777–95. Fountain, P. (2015). Proselytizing Development. In Tomalin, E. (ed.), The Routledge Handbook of Religions and Global Development (pp.  80–97). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Fretheim, K. (2012). Religion, utvikling og menneskerettigheter. In Jøssang, A. and Øyhus, A. O. (eds.), Religionens rolle i bistand og utvikling, pp. 98–110. Kristiansand: Portal forlag. Hefferan, T., Adkins, J. and Occhipinti, L. (2009a). Bridging the Gaps. Faith-­Based Organizations, Neoliberalism, and Development in Latin America and the Caribbean. Plymouth: Lexington Books. Hefferan, T., Adkins, J. and Occhipinti, L. (2009b). Faith-­Based Organizations, Neoliberalism, and Development: An Introduction. In Hefferan, T. et al. (eds.), Bridging the Gaps. Faith-­Based Organizations, Neoliberalism, and Development in Latin America and the Caibbean (pp. 1–34). Plymouth: Lexington Books. Hoffstaedter, G. and Tittensor, D. (2013). Religion and Development: Prospects and Pitfalls of Faith-­Based Organizations. In Clarke, M. (ed.), Handbook of Research on Development and Religion (pp. 402–12). Cheltenham/Northampton, MA: Edward Elgar. Jackson, R. (2002). Cultural Contracts Theory: Toward an Understanding of Identity Negotiation. Communication Quarterly 50(3–4), 359–67. http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/ 01463370209385672 James, R. (2009). What Is Distinctive About FBOs? How European FBOs Define and Operationalise Their Faith. INTRAC Praxis Paper. Jennings, M. (2013). ‘Do Not Turn Away a Poor Man’: Faith-­Based Organizations and Development. In Clarke, M. (ed.), Handbook of Research on Development and Religion (pp. 359–75). Cheltenham/Northampton, MA: Edward Elgar. Jones, B. and Petersen, M. J. (2011). Instrumental, Narrow, Normative? Reviewing Recent Work on Religion and Development. Third World Quarterly 32(7), 1291–306. https://doi.org/10.1080/01436597.2011.596747 Leer-­Helgesen, A. (2016). Transformative Theology: An Ecumenical Approach to Transformation in Guatemala. Mission Studies 33(2016), 187–208.

Perspectives on religion and development   29 Lincoln, B. (2003). Holy Terrors: Thinking About Religion After September 11. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Nordstokke, K. (ed.) (2009). Diakonia in Context: Transformation, Reconciliation, Empowerment. An LWF Contribution to the Understanding and Practice of Diakonia. Geneva: Lutheran World Federation. Occhipinti, L. (2005). Acting on Faith: Religious Development Organizations in Northwestern Argentina. Oxford: Lexington Books. Plant, S. and Weiss, D. H. (2015). Theology and Development. Christian and Jewish Approaches. In Tomalin, E. (ed.), The Routledge Handbook of Religions and Global Development (pp. 53–67). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Rakodi, C. (2011). A Guide to Analyzing the Relationships between Religion and Development. Working Paper 67. Birmingham: Religions and Development Research Programme, International Development Department, University of Birmingham. Scholte, J. A. and Söderbaum, F. (2017). A Changing Development Agenda? Forum for Development Studies 44(1), 1–12. https://doi.org/http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/08039410.2 017.1275843 Scott, J. (2001). Power. Cambridge: Polity. Sider, R. J. and Unruh, H. R. (2004). Typology of Religious Characteristics of Social Service and Educational Organizations and Programs. Nonprofit and Voluntary Sector Quarterly 33(1), 109–34. https://doi.org/10.1177/0899764003257494 Swart, I. and Nell, E. (2016). Religion and Development: The Rise of a Bibliography. HTS Teologieses Studies/Theological Studies 72(4), 1–27. http://dx.doi/org/10.4102/ hts.v72i4.3862 Tadros, M. (2010). Faith-­Based Organizations and Service Delivery. Some Gender Conundrums. United Nations Research Institute for Social Development. ter Haar, G. (2011a). Religion and Development: Introducing a New Debate. In ter Haar, (ed.), Religion and Development: Ways of Transforming the World (pp. 3–26). London: Hurst. ter Haar, G. (ed.) (2011b). Religion and Development: Ways of Transforming the World. London: Hurst. Tomalin, E. (2013). Religions and Development. New York: Routledge. Tomalin, E. (ed.) (2015). The Routledge Handbook of Religions and Global Development. Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Tønnessen, A. V. (2012). Trosbaserte organisasjoner, utvikling og kjønn – utfordringer og muligheter. In Jøssang, A. and Øyhus, A. O. (eds.), Religionens rolle i bistand og utvikling (pp. 98–110). Kristiansand: Portal forlag. UNDP (26 February 2019). About Human Development. Retrieved from http://hdr.undp. org/en/humandev van Wensveen, L. M. (2011). Religion and Sustainable Development: A Typological Analysis. In ter Haar, G. (ed.), Religion and Development. Ways of Tranforming the World (pp. 81–110). London: Hurst.

3 Religion and development in Bolivia Resistance and decolonisation

Introduction Constructions of relationships between religion and development are dependent on local religious and cultural systems as well as the social and political context. This chapter situates the theoretical debate on religion and development in the context of Bolivia. I first introduce the contemporary political and social situation as a backdrop, including a brief historical outline. Then the religious landscape in Bolivia is presented, before I turn to the debate on development and the discourse of suma qamaña. It will become clear that both religion and development are terms that are not only contextually interpreted, but also resisted and protested against. The Bolivian context illustrates that both terms are political in the sense that they provide thoughts about what well-­being in and as society is. As Deneulin and Bano state: ‘Religion is political because it provides a framework for how to live well in society (according to God’s command). It therefore penetrates the political sphere, characterised by a search for laws and policies that provide the conditions enabling people to live well together’ (2009, p. 8).

The process of change in Bolivia and the role of ethnicity The presidential election of Evo Morales in 2005 marked a turning point in Bolivian history. For the first time the country appointed a president who identified himself as ‘indigenous’ and part of the majority population. The election followed from years of social mobilisation, in which indigenous movements had fought together with labour unions, women’s organisations, various NGOs and church members for a new direction in which the excluded majority would have their rights respected and gain power. The rise of Morales’s political party MAS and their victory in 2005, grew out of a long history of exclusion and resistance by the indigenous population. Morales’s promise was a process of change that would recreate Bolivia based on indigenous peoples’ philosophies and ways of living. The colonial heritage, institutionalised in state structures and systems as well as in people’s minds, had excluded the indigenous population politically and socially since Spain established colonial rule from 1538 (Mesa et al., 2001, pp.  101–22). At the inauguration of Morales in January 2006 the expectations

Religion and development in Bolivia   31 for a positive future for the excluded majority were sky high. I was present in the main plaza San Francisco in La Paz when the multitude of people welcomed the president and the Vice President Álvaro García Linera after the inauguration. Songs and speeches promising a better future marked the event. The speakers spoke of revolutionary change and the crowd responded with emotional expressions and celebrations. The shift from a society based on colonial and excluding structures to one based on recognition and appreciation of indigenous peoples’ philosophies and practices, was seen to have begun. The present book is based on data gathered in Morales’s second presidential period (2009–14), when the ‘change process’ had been going on for some years and caused both joy and frustration. Ethnic identity is a key issue in the cultural and political discourse in Bolivia. According to Hylland Eriksen ‘in its most basic sense, ethnicity refers to the social reproduction of basic classificatory differences between categories of people and to aspects of gain and loss in social interaction. Ethnicity is fundamentally dual, encompassing aspects of both meaning and politics’ (1991, p. 264). The categories in use to identify different ethnic groups in Bolivia are disputed, and statistics are therefore dependent on interpretations and must be subjected to critical scrutiny. In the 2001 census in Bolivia 62 per cent of the population identified as belonging to one of the country’s indigenous groups, while the number had fallen to 40.6 per cent in the census in 2012 (Instituto Nacional de Estadística, 2012). This drop caused a renewed debate about whether Bolivia has an indigenous majority population. The reasons behind the figures are complex and illustrate well the fluidity of the concept of ethnicity. In neither of the censuses were people given the option of identifying as ‘mestizo’, understood as a mix of a Spanish and indigenous cultural heritage.1 In other surveys that have included mestizo as one of the categories, over 65 per cent identified as such and only 15–20 per cent as indigenous (Zavaleta, 2008). A discussion paper of the Inter-­Amer­ican Development Bank (IADB, 2014) points to the wording of the questions in 2012 in relation to 2001 as a possible explanation for the differences in percentages. While people in 2001 were asked whether they considered themselves to belong to one of the indigenous groups, the question in 2012 asked whether they belonged to a group. Some indigenous groups may have specific requirements for membership that go beyond self-­ identification. The migration from rural to urban areas may also have contributed to fewer people identifying as indigenous, since for many the label ‘indigenous’ is mainly related to rural life. But the migration flow is still not sufficient to explain the 22 per cent decline. It is argued in the IADB paper that the discourse on who is indigenous and who is not, has become highly politicised in recent years. Hence, it is probable that fewer people identify as indigenous for political reasons. The paper states that the number ‘was likely the result of political and structural changes rather than that of a change in the size of the indigenous population’ (IADB, 2014). Despite the difficulty of establishing the percentage of the indigenous population in Bolivia, cultural and ethnic identity is a fundamental issue both in the national political discourse, for the identity of the country and

32   Religion and development in Bolivia for people’s identities. As I will expose, ethnic identity is a key influential factor on how relationships between religion and development are constructed in the case studies this book focuses on. The background for the importance of questions of identity is the extensive history of oppression and resistance. The popularity of Morales and the power of social movements in Bolivia after 2000 can be explained to a large degree by resistance.2 Bolivia’s colonial heritage plays a crucial role in national storytelling, and colonialism is presented as a continuing process due to the imperialism of the United States and multinational companies. Cerro Rico, ‘the rich mountain’ in Potosí, is for many Bolivians a symbol of how the indigenous peoples and Bolivia as a country have been treated. Eduardo Galeano uses Potosí as an example to draw the same conclusion. Spain became rich due to silver from Potosí, while all that was left in Bolivia was ruins of temples and palaces and eight million dead indigenous workers of the silver mine (2004, p. 51). The history continued with losses for the indigenous peoples as well as for the Bolivian state. The communal land of indigenous peoples was taken by the colonisers and their descendants for haciendas (Mesa et al., 2001, pp. 505–10). After independence in 1825 Bolivia lost approximately 50 per cent of its territory in wars with neighbouring countries. The most important event in this regard was its loss of access to the Pacific Ocean in the Pacific war with Chile in 1879–80. In the twentieth century, the US became involved in trade, investments and internal political questions. This involvement was often welcomed by the elite, while the US became a common enemy and ‘imperialist’ in the narrative of the social movements towards the end of the century (Helgesen, 2005, pp. 13–19). Hence, the anti-­imperialist discourse of the current government draws on historical events from the colonial period, during the 1800s, and throughout the twentieth century. Bolivia is a country in which ruling systems were built on the different elites’ premises.

Decolonisation and interculturality Even though the history of Bolivia is marked by the exclusion and marginalisation of the indigenous peoples, it is also a story of their resistance. The indigenous peoples have never passively accepted the system of marginalisation, although the possibility of resistance has often been limited. What Albó calls ‘the system of asymmetric dualism’ was established as part of the colonial society but has continued to mark the different historical periods up until today. Contemporary society is still marked by this ‘original sin’, by which indigenous peoples and their world views and practices are considered of less value than the European heritage (Albó, 2008, p. 18). In recent decades, ethnicity has played a key role in social movements’ drive for change in Bolivia, and from the 1990s indigenous peoples gained influence in a way not seen before. However, important steps for the indigenous population began decades before, particularly related to the Bolivian revolution in 1952 and the rise of Movimiento Nacionalista Revolucionaria (MNR) to power. This was a turning point for the rights of indigenous peoples, with universal suffrage, agricultural reform and education

Religion and development in Bolivia   33 for all. It was however based on an ideology of a mestizo culture and of making everyone Bolivian citizens. The aim was to homogenise society and ‘civilise’ the indigenous to be Spanish-­speaking workers or peasants, identified with class and mestizo culture (Albó, 2008). The rights gained in the revolution of 1952 laid the foundations for increased power of indigenous peoples in society. The shift from class to ethnicity also has to do with international events and relations, with a focus on and support for indigenous peoples’ rights internationally. Albó discusses whether the shift was primarily due to pressure from indigenous peoples in Bolivia or mainly ‘a strategy on the part of global powers to weaken the state and thereby impose their liberal economic model’ (2008, p. 26). It was probably a bit of both, Albó concludes. Indigenous organisations were key actors in the social movements and MAS’s rise to power after 2000. Still, the mobilisations represented a much broader resistance to neo-­liberal politics and its consequences. Neo-­liberal reforms were initiated in Bolivia in response to demands of the International Monetary Fund (IMF ) in the 1980s, with key elements being the privatisation of state companies and cuts in social spending. The social consequences of neo-­liberal policies were severe, and people started to mobilise for a different society. Two particular confrontations between broad social movements and the state became decisive for the victory of MAS and Morales: the ‘water war’ in Cochabamba in 2000 and the ‘gas war’ in El Alto in 2003. These were both huge mobilisations, protesting against selling natural resources to foreign actors. The ‘water war’ was a resistance towards selling water rights to a private multinational company, while the ‘gas war’ was a protest against the government’s plan to sell natural gas to the US via Chile. Resistance to neo-­liberal policies continues to be strong in the Bolivian government’s discourse, as well as in the social movements. When Morales gained presidential power, MAS went from being actors of resistance to actors that needed to propose solutions and lay the foundation for a new societal structure. One of the first steps taken was to call for the election of a Constitutional Assembly in charge of writing a new Constitution for Bolivia. After a rather complex and questionable process, Bolivia had a new Constitution approved in a referendum in 2009 (Crabtree and Whitehead, 2008, pp. 141–212). Despite criticism, the approval of the Constitution was a major turning point in Bolivian history, due to the high percentage of participation in the national referendum (Rousseau, 2011). The new Constitution was, to a large degree, a result of demands from indigenous organisations. Key terms are decolonisation, interculturality and vivir bien/suma qamaña. Decolonisation refers to processes of rediscovering and valuing the indigenous heritage of the country. Interculturality is a term used both to denote a process as well as a goal. Different groups – often based on ethnicity, but also gender or social class – should dialogue with each other based on their own identity and with a critical power perspective that promotes the rights of excluded groups. As a goal, interculturality refers to coexistence based on recognised differences and dialogue aimed at relational equality. The goal for the society is vivir bien/suma qamaña, an ‘alternative’ view of development which is discussed throughout this book. MAN-­B and IELB were

34   Religion and development in Bolivia placed and negotiated in this context marked by strong political discourses of changing relations and the basis for society. The government of Morales initiated social reforms which had considerable effect. The impacts of the reforms on a reduction in poverty and inequality is widely recognised by international institutions such as the World Bank and the UN Commission for Latin America (McNeish, 2013, p. 222). Nationalisations of Bolivia’s hydrocarbon resources, the 2009 Constitution and the establishment of a social policy system have particularly favoured political and social rights of previously marginalised groups and challenged the ‘white elite’ (McNeish, 2013, p. 222). Despite Morales’s popularity and re-­elections, there are numerous causes for discontent among a broad spectrum of the population. McNeish argues that a conflict related to plans for a new highway across Bolivia made visible the many conflicting interests in Bolivian society and politics. The road was planned to cut through the Isiboro Sécure National Park and Indigenous Territory (TIPNIS), which caused broad national protests. ‘The TIPNIS conflict’ gained international attention, as the MAS government used police violence against a march of indigenous people protesting against the construction of the road through their legally recognised indigenous territory and national park. The many conflicting interests, the ambiguities of the Bolivian ‘change process’ and the complex relations between state and indigenous movements became visible (McNeish, 2013). The political discourse of the government did not resonate with their actions. While speaking of the rights of Mother Earth and the indigenous peoples, the government depends on extracting natural gas and oil in vulnerable areas inhabited by indigenous groups to support their budget spending. In the debate on national development the Morales government struggles to find a balance between economic growth to support social reforms and the respect for indigenous peoples’ rights and environmental care.

Religion and spirituality in Bolivia The field of religion in Bolivia is marked by the political ‘change process’, global and regional patterns of religion and internal processes in each faith community. As argued in the previous chapter, religion is contextual, part of a holistic world view, and dynamic. What follows is based on this theoretical and analytical approach to religion and presents the religious context of the Aymara population in Bolivia. Catholicism came to Bolivia with the Spanish colonisers in the 1500s and was made the official religion of the state.3 The 2009 Constitution separated the state from the Catholic Church and made Bolivia a secular religiously independent state. Article 4 says that ‘The State respects and guarantees freedom of religion and spiritual beliefs, in accordance with one’s world view. The State is independent of religion’ (Asamblea Constituyente, 2009). The latest official statistics on religious affiliation in Bolivia are from 2001, when the National Institute of Statistics (INE) conducted a survey parallel with the national census. At that

Religion and development in Bolivia   35 time 98 per cent declared themselves as adherents to a religion, with only 0.1 per cent of them identifying with a non-­Christian religion. The majority in Bolivia belong to the Catholic Church, although a rising number have joined Protestant evangelical churches in recent decades. From the 1920s onwards, Protestant missions led to the establishment of a variety of Protestant churches in different periods (Albó, 2002, pp. 70, 85; Arias, 1987). In recent years all the historical churches, both Protestant (Methodist, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Anglican and Baptist)4 and Catholic, have lost members or had zero growth. As in the rest of Latin America, it is the Pentecostal and neo-­Pentecostal churches that experience the highest growth rate (Estermann, 2008a, pp. 64–8). This challenges IELB and MAN-­B in specific ways, as they are experiencing increased ‘competition’ both in terms of church membership and by theological interpretations with a strong focus on prosperity. In the Bolivian context, Christianity has existed together with indigenous beliefs and practices that survived the colonisers’ attempts to extinguish them. Religion in the Andes can not be classified as ‘pure Christianity’ nor as non-­ Christian Andean religion, the religion of the Incas (Estermann, 2008a, pp. 179–82). These two traditions have intermingled and lived together for close to 500 years in processes where Andean elements have been Christianised and the Christian elements have been made Andean.5 Despite this coexistence of traditions, there are those who still claim to uphold ‘pure Christianity’ and those who try to recapture the ‘original’ religion of the Incas as the ‘true’ Andean religion today.6 Most people thus recognise and live in and with both traditions. Estermann argues that even though the majority of the Bolivian population belongs to a Christian church, a high percentage also practise ancestral traditions and rituals. This is either carried out as parallel activities or is incorporated and integrated as part of their Christian practices (Estermann, 2007, p. 14). How this coexistence of religious traditions is handled and mediated in the frame of IELB and MAN-­B will be described later in this book. It is an important part of the way they construct their faith identity and negotiate religion and development. Some consider their Christian faith as incompatible with what they see as indigenous religious practices separated from cultural practices. Others interpret the same religious practices as contextualised Christianity and participate in them. Global discourses and relations also influence the way the Christian identity is constructed. Ecumenical circles are more open to inclusion of indigenous practices, while evangelicals have a stronger tradition of contrasting ‘the Christian’ with ‘indigenous religion’. Estermann argues that what is described as the ‘return of religion’ on the global arena is seen completely differently from the context of the Andes. Religion has always been important for people’s lives, and secularisation in terms of decline in religious beliefs is not a phenomenon known in the Andes. The ‘supposed religious resurgence’, he says, has two main characteristics in the Andean context. First, the ‘pentecostalisation’ of the expressions of Christian faith and second, the revitalisation of an ancestral indigenous religiosity. This second characteristic should rather be considered a renewed visibility of practices and

36   Religion and development in Bolivia beliefs that have at best been seen as secondary and ‘primitive’, and very often ‘pagan’ (Estermann, 2008a, pp. 55–6). Both these recent changes in the religious landscape of Bolivia impact how IELB and MAN-­B negotiate their faith-­based identity in development work. The discourse on religion has been subjected to a decolonising process as part of the ‘change process’ in Bolivia. While ‘religion’ was used exclusively in the former Constitution from 1967, the one from 2009 includes the terms ‘spirituality’ and ‘world view’. ‘Spirituality’ and ‘world view’ expand the terminology related to religion. Later chapters will show that ‘spirituality’ is extensively used with references to both Christian and indigenous religious traditions. ‘Religion’ in Bolivia has mainly been to refer to institutionalised and doctrinal Christianity, while Andean religious practices were not acknowledged as or considered ‘religion’. The change in discourse opens for a pluralistic understanding of the religious field and is more inclusive of different religious and spiritual traditions. Estermann (2008a) explains this shift as a consequence of the indigenous influence in the process of the 2009 Constitution, and describes the understanding of ‘spirituality’ in the Andes as different from how the concept is used in mono­ theistic religions and a ‘Western’ conception. While ‘spirituality’ in a Western understanding is seen as one aspect of and subordinate to ‘religion’, it is the opposite in the Andes. There, ‘spirituality’ embraces all of life, and ‘religion’ and the ‘religious’ (beliefs, rituals, traditions, faith expressions, doctrines) is only one aspect of it (Estermann, 2008a, pp. 58–9). Within Christianity, spirituality is one of many fields of theology and is often limited to the individual’s intimate relation with the divine. As a result of ‘religious reductionism’ in the West, spirituality was put in a corner and understood as pious and devotional practice, or it disappeared from the agenda. In recent decades, though, spirituality within a Christian setting has found expressions through the Pentecostal and charismatic movements, not least in the Global South (Estermann, 2008a, p. 58). These movements have also had considerable impact on the expressions of Christianity in Bolivia in recent years. It is thus fair to assume that the use of ‘spirituality’ in the political discourse may also have positive connotations for charismatic evangelical churches. Characteristics of charismatic evangelical churches are less formalised rituals and expressions compared to the historical churches, and they have a particular focus on the Spirit. Many of them, notably the independent churches, lack established institutions and the leadership does not necessarily have any theological or pastoral education (Córdova, 2008, pp. 89–97). Spirituality has also had its resurgence in the West in recent decades. Both Western postmodernism and indigenous ‘spirituality’ are attempts to free religion from the bounds of the established religions and their theologies. The objectives are however completely different. While spirituality in the West is focused on the ‘free’ individual, Andean spirituality is the expression of historical collective wisdom (Estermann, 2008a, p. 60). Heelas and Woodhead (2005, pp. 1–9) claim that religion has given way to spirituality in Western societies in recent decades in line with Charles Taylor’s theory of ‘the subjective turn’. They

Religion and development in Bolivia   37 argue that religion in the West is an expression of ‘life as’, while spirituality expresses a turn towards a subjective life. The external expectations and authorities that have guided people in how to live their life are no longer considered relevant. They are substituted with the internal subjective authority of the individual. This understanding of ‘spirituality’, based on the inner subjective authority of the individual, is not consistent with the Christian tradition. Spirituality in Christian circles is also subjective and often involves intense experiences, but these sentiments are directed at the Christian God as an external authority and not inwards in the person, Heelas and Woodhead explain (2005, pp.  1–9). This description of Christian spirituality also applies to charismatic movements in Bolivia, and I will show how it influences IELB and MAN-­B’s faith identity in the following chapters.

Challenging and questioning development As with religion, the concept ‘development’ is also contested on several levels in Bolivia. In the 2009 Constitution it was replaced with a discourse of vivir bien, founded on the philosophical understanding of the Aymara term suma qamaña. However, the understanding of suma qamaña/vivir bien,7 and not least its practice, is disputed. The debate on suma qamaña/vivir bien is an important backdrop to understanding contentions in the national debates in which faith-­based institutions are situated. On a political level, development is both challenged and questioned, as illustrated by this quotation from the first national development plan of the government of Morales: The vivir bien [living well] is an expression of the encounter between people and communities, with respect for the diversity and cultural identity; that means ‘vivir bien among us’. It is to live together as communities, with interculturality and without asymmetries of power, ‘one cannot vivir bien if the others live poorly’. It is about living as part of the community, protected by this. At the same time vivir bien in harmony with nature means ‘vivir bien in balance with all that surrounds us’. That also means ‘vivir bien you and me together’, and that is different from the Western ‘living better’, which is individual, separated from the others and also at the expense of others and separated from nature. (Ministerio de Planificación del Desarrollo, 2006, p. 10) Vivir bien was introduced as the process and aim for the development efforts of the state, and this was followed up in the 2009 Constitution. Vivir bien is found in the introduction of the Constitution, in the title describing the ‘ethical–moral principles of the plural society’ (art.  8) and when education and economy are treated (Asamblea Constituyente, 2009). Hence, it is made a central term to describe where the Bolivian government wants to take society. This is presented in contrast to an individualistic Western logic of ‘living better’, in which both people and nature pay the price for development for the few.

38   Religion and development in Bolivia The political concept of vivir bien is based on the Andean indigenous philosophy of suma qamaña. Numerous academic articles and websites have been replete with discussions of the term after it was made public policy in Bolivia, and there is widespread agreement on the difficulty of translating the term from one philosophy or world view to another (Albó, 2011; Estermann, 2006, pp. 88–93, 2012; Medina, 2011). Based on a linguistic analysis, Albó concludes: ‘That means that seen from different angles qamaña is to live, to dwell, to repose, to find shelter and protect others’ (2011, p. 134). The root qama refers to the ‘energy’ or ‘force’ of both humans as well as physical places (sacred mountains, the sun, etc.), and thus also links the term to nature and the spiritual (Albó, 2011, p.  134; Estermann, 2012, p.  518). Suma can be translated into several positive adjectives in Spanish: bonito (nice), hermoso (beautiful), agradable (pleasing), bueno (good), amable (lovely), precioso (precious), excelénte (excellent), acabado (complete), perfecto (perfect) (Albó, 2011, p.  135). Estermann (2012, p. 518) ends up with bueno (good), agradable (pleasing), armonioso (harmonious) and sabroso (tasteful). He considers vivir bien to be an adequate translation of suma qamaña, if one is aware of the world view and life practices it is based on. Albó (2011) makes the community perspective more obvious and writes: ‘Suma qamaña = convivir bien’ (living well together). Medina warns even stronger against the reductionism of the term when translated to vivir bien and considers criar la vida (‘to breed life’) as a better term that incorporates more of the meaning (2011, pp. 38–9). The contrast to the Western development model, presented in the National Development Plan as individualistic, based on inequality and a threat to nature and other people, is the basis of the political discourse of vivir bien. The global and national capitalist system has been the main enemy for the government of Morales since the beginning, and the term ‘development’ is closely connected with this. Development politics and efforts have historically been dominated by foreign influences such as the World Bank, the IMF or powerful aid institutions such as USAID. The consequences of neo-­liberal politics created a profound scepticism towards international development institutions and programmes. Medina discusses suma qamaña as the opposite of what he describes as the Western paradigm of development and progress. Capitalism, to him, refers to the hegemonic economic system based in individualism, liberalism, consumerism, urbanisation and monotheism. The contrast established to the Western capitalist development perspective is widely shared and debated among researchers discussing how development is questioned in Bolivia (Estermann, 2012; Farah and Vasapollo, 2011; Huanancuni, 2010; Wanderley, 2011). What is this often portrayed as collision of visions based on? Medina (2011) argues that we are talking about two civilisations with fundamentally different logics. This is in line with Estermann’s argument that the Andean philosophy8 is fundamentally relational, while substantial thinking dominates Western philosophy. The ‘principle of relationality’ [relacionalidad] or the ‘holistic principle’ [princípio holístico] is fundamental to Andean philosophy: Everything is related to everything in one way or another. The basic ‘entity’ is not the substantial

Religion and development in Bolivia   39 ‘entity’, but the relation. Thus, a particular ‘entity’ is only constituted as such based on relational structures (Estermann, 2006, p. 126). This basic and fundamental holistic principle is manifested in several ‘secondary’ principles: correspondence [correspondencia], complementarity [complementariedad] and reciprocity [reciprocidad]. Simplified and in very general terms the principle of correspondence signifies a mutual and two-­way directional relation between two ‘fields’ of ‘reality’. The principle of complementarity says that everything coexists with its specific complement that makes it complete. Reciprocity is the pragmatic and ethical expression of the principle of correspondence, meaning that every action has its corresponding act of reciprocity that contributes to complementarity (Estemann, 2006, pp. 123–49). This relational thinking is the fundament for suma qamaña. Estermann writes that the conception of life in an Andean understanding is about relations, balance and harmony. Suma qamaña is determined by what he calls the ideal of ‘cosmic justice’ (Estermann, 2012, p. 521). ‘Cosmic justice’ is expressed as harmony and balance on all levels and in all aspects of human and non-­human life: between the human and non-­human nature, the religious and profane, life and death, ­cultivating and consuming, input and output, gift and retribution, today and  yesterday, this generation and the coming ones, work and ritual. All and everyone have a place and function to play to maintain balance between up and down, left and right, past and present, the masculine and the feminine (seen as opposite poles). He thus argues that suma qamaña in the Andean understanding cannot be separated from the dimensions of spirituality, religion, ecology, economics, politics, ethics and rituality and cannot be restricted to the ‘lifeworld’ of each individual and his/her personal ‘life quality’ (Estermann, 2012, p. 521). The indigenous leader Rodolfo Machaca Yupanqui was asked what concrete practices could help us to understand vivir bien: Really, when one is born in the community one grows together with all that surrounds you, the surroundings, the production, the agriculture, the environment, the water and other species, and part of this, the community’s activities, the theme of living together as members of the community.... So, it is all an integral system of living that one has in the community, and those things are what have led me to appreciate much, to love life and the human being; the life of the plants, of the animals, even the life of the stone or the earth, because they also have life. (Machaca, 2013, p. 125) Machaca is here describing a practice of living in the community as the basis for suma qamaña. It is thus primarily a lived reality. As a discourse suma qamaña is based on the abstraction of this practice, expressed in Andean philosophy and presented in contrast to a Western understanding of development. Indigenous practices and ways of living are considered as the ideal, if they are not ‘corrupted’ by modernisation processes that dominate capitalist society. It is a discourse of resistance, but it has also become a discourse that proposes new

40   Religion and development in Bolivia paradigms of orientation for the global community as well as for local communities. Justice is interpreted as balance and harmony in all relations, including with nature and the spiritual. The concept of life embraces all, also beyond biological life. It also includes the transcendental. The principle of relations is crucial, as all is connected with all. Every change for better or for worse has consequences for other parts of the cosmos, due to the principles of complementarity and correspondence. One cannot live well if others are suffering. This is a cosmocentric philosophy that includes the spiritual and nature, and cosmic balance and universal harmony (‘justice’) is the goal. Suma qamaña in the Andes has cosmic, ecological (also spiritual ecology and metaphysics), religious–spiritual, social, economic and political dimensions (Estermann, 2012, p. 524). Justice is a goal for all relations, both with nature, with the spiritual and in the community. Suma qamaña is a dynamic concept that refers to a continuous process of living. It does not express a state that will be reached one day, as other development discourses often focus on. A clear example of thinking development as a linear process towards the ultimate goal is the modernisation school. Theories focusing on well-­being and human development from different perspectives are also oriented towards a final objective and measurement of results on the way.9 Suma qamaña, on the other hand, is concerned with well-­being as constantly constructed in the daily life relations in search of cosmic justice. Seeking justice and balance in all relations also has consequences for how to live one’s life. One aspect is the treatment of natural resources, which must be handled in the perspective of the survival of the earth and future generations. Humans are to be stewards of nature and part of nature itself, not its dominator. Work is seen as contributing to the continuous creation of life and as highly appreciated and meaningful. Ecology is a way of life in line with the principles of cosmic relations, and not mainly a philosophy. As nature and spiritual beings are part of a person’s relations, Pachamama (Mother Earth) and other parts of nature are considered as subjects and right-­bearers. This took on political expression in Bolivia’s protagonist role to formalise ‘the Rights of Mother Earth’ within the UN system and the approval of the Law of Mother Earth’s Rights in Bolivia in 2010.10 The holistic world view expands the relations so as to include nature and the spiritual realm, but it also redefines who the ‘subject’ is. The subject that takes political and economic decisions is not the individual, but the community. The right-­bearers are therefore not mainly the individuals, but the communities, nations/groups11 and also Pachamama. Private property rights to land, water and so forth are therefore alien to such thinking in the Andes. Suma qamaña implies access to basic services such as education, health, food and housing for all. In a world with limited resources this means that some have to reduce their luxurious way of living and redistribution of wealth is an imperative for cosmic justice. Suma qamaña as practical politics, Estermann argues, has a particular focus on power relations as a hindrance to justice. Interculturality and decolonisation as

Religion and development in Bolivia   41 political and social processes should create diversity and equal power relations and avoid separatism and domination. Power relations based on gender, patriarchy and androcentrism need to be eliminated if justice is to be reached. No superiority based on wealth, perceptions of ‘race’ or ethnicity is compatible with suma qamaña (Estermann, 2012, pp. 524–32). In conclusion, suma qamaña is a concept that embraces a way of perceiving the world which is dependent on the language of origin as well as everyday practices in the Andes. At the same time, it is launched as an alternative to the Western development discourse and as a concrete way to change social and political practices.12 The MAS government’s project has been to build its politics on this alternative vision. Estermann makes the suggestion that the categorical imperative of vivir bien and ‘democratic socialism’ (the political project in Bolivia) is to act in a way that secures and guarantees a life with dignity (access to basic human needs; social political and cultural self-­determination; respect and equal opportunities) for all human beings in the present and future, and that guarantees the survival of the Earth at the same time (Estermann, 2012, p. 532). However, these discourses are idealistic, and attempts to operationalise them have met with hindrances, as well as revealing different interests and interpretations of what these ideas should lead to.

The political discourse of vivir bien The Bolivian sociologist and economist José Nuñez del Prado (2011) argues that vivir bien is understood and communicated differently by central members of the Bolivian government. The political discourse of vivir bien is not consistent and the concrete application in state politics is even more complex and conflictual. The foreign minister from 2006 until 2017, David Choquehuanca, was a key actor in the debate on vivir bien. He represented an ‘indigenist’ understanding, in which vivir bien is a totally different paradigm from a Western understanding of development (Nuñez del Prado, 2011, pp.  297–300). Choquehuanca suggested the rejection of all the terms that accompany a Western development discourse, including democracy, freedom, justice, dignity and human rights. The basis for the severe critique of all the associated terminology is that these terms speak about humans and do not include the rest of the cosmos (Ministerio de Relaciones Exteriores, 2010b). The terms that belong to the paradigm of vivir bien are rather consensus, complementarity, equilibrium, identity and cosmic rights (including of Mother Earth) (Ministerio de Relaciones Exteriores, 2010a). Choquehuanca made an interesting analysis of the anthropocentric and individualistic terms in Western development discourse and suggests changing to the Aymara concepts (although here in Spanish translation) to create a good life for all entities in the cosmos. His discourse was based on the terminology and universe of Andean, primarily Aymara, philosophy. A different perspective on vivir bien has been promoted by the Vice President Álvaro García Linera. He has argued for ‘communitarian socialism’ (as a Bolivian invention) and used the term vivir bien in his political discourse to promote

42   Religion and development in Bolivia the national change process (Nuñez del Prado, 2011, pp.  300–4). Linera is a sociologist with numerous publications in sociology and political analysis, and he was an activist in social movements promoting socialist ideology since the mid 1980s.13 In an interview with the French newspaper L’Humanité (in English) from August 2013, Linera outlined three main components in the Bolivian process of change: decolonisation of the state apparatus, nationalisation and state ownership of what is considered communal goods and the rise of communal values that promote a relationship with nature (Deroubaix, 2013). In this interview he did not use the term vivir bien, and his discourse was analytical and well structured, using terms from political science. While Choquehuanca spoke of vivir bien as an ongoing process and way of living, García Linera talked about the political project of a postcapitalist society and the need for a transitional period to reach this. He portrayed ‘the new society’ ahead, while Choquehuanca considered the past and present indigenous societies as the place for a good life. The discourse of President Morales is somewhere in between, depending on the setting and the listeners. He argues on the basis of Andean philosophy, but he also promotes the political project of ‘communitarian socialism’. Based on readings of theory and governmental presentations, as well as my own empirical material, I argue that there are grounds for speaking of two levels of the discourse of suma qamaña: suma qamaña lived and practised in the local communities, and vivir bien as a political project that includes the whole plurinational state of Bolivia – and even goes beyond this as a global project. It goes without saying that the political project meets even more challenges than local community projects when consensus and just relationships are to be lived out in practice. Religion and development are contextual terms, and in Bolivia they are both resisted, challenged and interpreted according to indigenous philosophies and political changes. The religious landscape is marked by the coexistence of religious traditions, and religious and spiritual dimensions are integrated parts of life. I have shown that religion and development are interrelated both in the suma qamaña philosophy and in political discourses of vivir bien. The two main cases, IELB and MAN-­B, construct their faith-­based identity through negotiations framed by cultural, religious, social and political aspects of Bolivian society. Suma qamaña is part of daily life in the communities they work with, and as institutions they operate in a political context in which ‘Western’ understandings of development and religion are not just challenged and disputed, but also provided with alternatives. The following chapters will analyse how these ‘alternative’ discourses impact the way the institutions construct their faith identities and negotiate discourses and practices.

Notes   1 In the 2012 census the only option given was to identify with one of 37 indigenous groups, or as ‘others’, ‘others not specified’ or ‘not belonging’ (Instituto Nacional de Estadística, 2012).

Religion and development in Bolivia   43   2 Resistance is a reaction to structures of domination, according to John Scott. The social mobilisations prior to Morales’s rise to power can be described as a counteracting power which ‘derives its strength from the number of subalterns that it involves and the solidarity that they are able to achieve in mobilizing their resources’ (Scott, 2001, p. 26).   3 The brutality of combining military invasion and evangelisation in Latin America during colonial times is described in Bonino (2004, pp. 16–21).   4 For a typology of the churches in Bolivia, see Córdova (2008).   5 I here refer to the understanding of religion as tradition of thought explained in Chapter 2. Religious ideas, practices, institutions and communities have been modified and changed, but still ‘survived’ throughout history and are marked by a certain continuity. This refers to both Christianity and Andean religiosity.   6 It is both difficult as well as ‘imperialistic’ to impose a separation of the religious dimension from daily life in the Aymara context. I do not understand spiritual indigenous practices as purely cultural, but also partly religious. Andean religiosity does not contain universal claims, nor does it have established institutions such as churches. However, the Andean religious tradition has institutions in terms of established practices, done at certain times, by certain members of the communities, with certain functions, and at certain places.   7 People often use these terms as synonyms and interchangeably. I will mainly use vivir bien when I refer to the government’s discourse and suma qamaña with reference to the community discourse.   8 I primarily use ‘Andean philosophy’ as the theoretical term, not ‘world view’, in line with Estermann (2006).   9 A clear example is the SDGs to be reached in 2030. https://sustainabledevelopment. un.org/?menu=1300 [accessed 26 February 2019]. 10 For an overview of the leading role taken by Bolivia in the global campaign for Mother Earth’s rights, see http://therightsofnature.org/bolivia-­experience [accessed 26 February 2019]. 11 I here refer to indigenous nations, not nation states. Bolivia is defined as a ‘pluri­ national state’ in the Constitution of 2009. 12 In the foreword of the new edition of his classical work, Escobar ([1995] 2012, pp. xxiv–xxxi) points to the discourse of vivir bien as a ‘transition discourse’ and a marker for post-­development. 13 He participated in the guerrilla movement Túpac Katari and was arrested for terrorism in 1992 (Deroubaix, 2013). For a brief historical introduction to the Katarist Movement, see Albó (2008, pp. 22–3).

References Albó, X. (2002). Una casa común para todos. La Paz: CIPCA. Albó, X. (2008). The ‘Long Memory’ of Ethnicity in Bolivia and Some Contemporary Oscilliations. In Crabtree, J. and Whitehead, L. (eds.), Unresolved Tensions: Bolivia Past and Present (pp. 13–34). Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press. Albó, X. (2011). Suma qamaña = convivir bien. ¿Cómo medirlo? In Farah, I.�������������  ������������ F. and Vasapollo, L. (eds.), Vivir Bien: ¿Paradigma no capitalista? (pp. 133–44). La Paz: Plural editores. Arias, M. (1987). El protestantismo en Bolivia. In Dussel, E. (ed.), Historia General de la Iglesia en América Latina. Peru, Bolivia y Ecuador (pp.  405–13, 90–5). Salamanca: Ediciones Sígueme. Asamblea Constituyente (2009). Constitución Política del Estado. Bolivia, 2009. Bonino, J. M. (2004). Latin America. In Parrat, J. (ed.), An Introduction to Third World Theologies (pp. 16–43). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

44   Religion and development in Bolivia Bull, B. and Bøås, M. (2012). Between Ruptures and Continuity: Modernisation, Dependency and the Evolution of Development Theory. Forum for Development Studies 39(3), 319–36. Córdova, J. (2008). Evangélicos y procesos de desarrollo en Bolivia. Algunas consideraciones conceptuales. In ISEAT (ed.), Religión y desarrollo en los Andes. Deconstrucción intercultural de una relación difícil (pp. 79–114). La Paz: ISEAT. Crabtree, J. and Whitehead, L. (eds.) (2008). Unresolved Tensions. Bolivia Past and Present. Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press. Deneulin, S. and Bano, M. (2009). Religion in Development: Rewriting the Secular Script. London: Zed Books. Deroubaix, C. (2013). Álvaro García Linera: ‘Our ambition is a communitarian, post-­ capitalist society’. L’Humanité [in English], 15 August 2013, www.humaniteinenglish. com/spip.php?article2321 Escobar, A. [1995] (2012). Encountering Development: The Making and Unmaking of the Third World. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Estermann, J. (2006). Filosofía andina. Sabiduría indígena para un mundo nuevo. La Paz: ISEAT. Estermann, J. (2007). ‘Religión’: un concepto ambiguo y culturalmente determinado. Religion y Desarrollo 1(1), 9–14. Estermann, J. (2008a). El mercado religioso y la religión del mercado. Una perspectiva intercultural al campo religioso en los Andes. In ISEAT (ed.), Religión y desarrollo en los Andes. Deconstrucción intercultural de una relación difícil (pp. 53–78). La Paz: ISEAT. Estermann, J. (2008b). Si el Sur Fuera el Norte. Chakanas interculturales entre Andes y el Occidente. La Paz: ISEAT. Estermann, J. (2012). ‘Vivir Bien’ como utopía. La concepción andina del ‘vivir bien’ (suma qamaña/allin kawsay) y su aplicación en el socialismo democrático en Bolivia. In Seminario VI. Vivir Bien ¿Una nueva vía de desarrollo plurinacional? (pp. 517–33). La Paz: MUSEF (Museo Nacional de Etnografia y Folklore). Farah H., I and Vasapollo, L. (eds.) (2011). Vivir Bien: ¿Paradima no capitalista? La Paz: Plural editores. Galeano, E. (2004). Las venas abiertas de América Latina. México: Siglo XXI, 2004. Heelas, P. and Woodhead, L. (2005). The Spiritual Revolution. Why Religion Is Giving Way to Spirituality. Oxford: Blackwell. Helgesen, A. (2005). Kyrkjer i konflikt: kyrkjelege haldningar til spørsmålet om privatisering av gass og vatn i Bolivia. Master’s thesis/Hovudoppgåve, University of Oslo. Huanacuni M., F. (2010). Vivir Bien/Buen Vivir. Filosofía, políticas, estrategias y experiencias regionales. La Paz: Insituto Internacional de Intergración (III-­CAB). Hylland Eriksen, T. (1991). Ethnicity versus Nationalism. Journal of Peace Research 28(3), 263–78. www.jstor.org/stable/424407 IADB (2014). Counting Bolivia’s Indigenous Peoples. http://idbdocs.iadb.org/wsdocs/ getdocument.aspx?docnum=39334197 Instituto Nacional de Estadística (2012). Bolivia. Características de población y vivienda. Censo nacional de población y vivienda 2012. La Paz: INE. www.ine.gob.bo:8081/ censo2012/PDF/resultadosCPV2012.pdf McNeish, J. A. (2013). Extraction, Protest and Indigeneity in Bolivia: The TIPNIS Effect. Latin Amer­ican and Caribbean Ethnic Studies 8(2), 221–42. doi:10.1080/17442222.20 13.808495. Machaca Y. R. (2013). Palabras breves. In ISEAT and Bread for All (eds.), Otros horizontes de vida. Diálogos sobre ‘desarrollo’ y ‘vivir bien’ (pp. 125–7). La Paz: ISEAT and Bread for All.

Religion and development in Bolivia   45 Medina, J. (2011). Acerca del Suma Qamaña. In Farah H., I. and Vasapollo, L. (eds.), Vivir Bien: ¿Paradigma no capitalista? (pp. 39–64). La Paz: Plural editores. Mesa G., C. D., de Mesa, J. and Gisbert, T. (2001). Historia de Bolivia. La Paz, Bolivia: Editorial Gisbert. Ministerio de Planificación del Desarrollo (2006). Plan nacional de desarrollo: Bolivia digna, soberana, productiva y democrática para Vivir Bien. 2006–10. La Paz. Ministerio de Relaciones Exteriores (2010a). Intervención del Canciller David Choquehuanca en la presentación del Plan Nacional de Desarrollo: Bolivia digna, democrática, soberana y productiva para Vivir Bien. La Paz, 7 julio 2006. In Vivir Bien. Mensajes y documentos sobre el Vivir Bien 1995–2010 La Paz. www.planificacion.gob.bo/uploads/ Vivir_bien.pdf Ministerio de Relaciones Exteriores (2010b). Suma Kawsay – el Buen Vivir. Conferencia del Canciller David Choquehuanca sobre el Vivir Bien. Quito, 30 de julio 2009. In Vivir Bien. Mensajes y documentos sobre el Vivir Bien 1995–201. La Paz. www.plan ificacion.gob.bo/uploads/Vivir_bien.pdf Nuñez del Prado, J. (2011). Desarrollo-­vida-felicidad. Paradigmas de desarrollo – Cosmovisiones de vida – Aspiraciones de felicidad. In Wanderley, F. (ed.), El desarrollo en cuestión. Reflexiones desde América Latina (pp. 283–315). La Paz: Plural editores. Rousseau, S. (2011). Indigenous and Feminist Movements at the Constituent Assembly in Bolivia: Locating the Representation of Indigenous Women. Latin Amer­ican Research Review 46(2), 5–28. Scott, J. (2001). Power. Cambridge: Polity. Wanderley, F. (ed.) (2011). El desarrollo en cuestión. Reflexiones desde América Latina. La Paz: Plural editores. Zavaleta R., D. (2008). Oversimplified Identities: The Debate over What Is Indigena and What Is Mestizo. In Crabtree, J. and Whitehead, L. (eds.), Unresolved Tensions: Bolivia Past and Present (pp. 51–60). Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press.

4 Constructing a faith-­based identity

Introduction When we come to a place, how do we present ourselves? We present ourselves first by saying that we are a Lutheran church and that we also get help from other countries to do these projects with the help we also bring. That, and we always give thanks to God first. So, first God and give him thanks. And also to the countries that help us and we pray for them to keep strengthening what they do and what they realise every day in their work. (Interview 7)

This staff member presented IELB’s institutional identity with reference to religion (God and prayer) as well as to their position in development cooperation linking international partners to local communities.1 Presentations of the institution, in different situations and places, are results of individual staff ’s reasoning: ‘When we come to a place, how do we present ourselves?’ They might strategically choose the ‘appropriate’ language to convince or appeal to their communication partners, they might be guided by their own faith and cultural and professional values or they can draw directly on formal institutional discourses. Such individual negotiations, a daily exercise for individual staff, are framed by institutional structures which both delimit and enable possible outcomes. Structural and formal elements of FBOs have been extensively researched in recent years, ending up in different typologies which shed light on the distinctiveness of these actors. The historical background and administrative organisation of IELB and MAN-­B are key parts of the structural frame of institutional identities. Narratives of how and why the work was initiated and the ‘demarcation’ of areas of focus, influence current discourses and practices. Language use in formal documents and daily institutional practices contain key identity markers and represent official strategies. These institutional discourses emerge from relations with actors and discourses on all scales, from the local to the global. As I will show, IELB and MAN-­B are part of networks and draw on discourses from both the field of religion as well as international development. Structural elements, multiple relations and individual agency are all constitutive parts of institutions. In the following, I will show how these are all part of

Constructing a faith-based identity   47 i­dentity constructions of MAN-­B as a development NGO marked by evangelical faith and individual spirituality, and IELB as a socially engaged church based in a Lutheran identity and theology.

MAN-­B: a faith-­based NGO MAN-­B is a ‘Non-­Governmental Evangelical Christian Organisation’ (MAN-­B, 2012). It was founded in June 1978 and recognised formally by the Bolivian state in 1980. The Strategy Plan 2013–17 stated that ‘it is a Mission that facilitates development together with local grassroots organisations and civil society organisations’ (MAN-­B, 2012). MAN-­B was initiated as a Norwegian organisation led by missionaries. In 1997 it became a Bolivian NGO with national leaders. At the time of my fieldwork, the organisation worked in three geographical areas in the department of La Paz: the city of El Alto, the lowlands around Caranavi, and the valleys of Sorata and Quiabaya. While El Alto is a city of immigrants from the countryside with more than one million inhabitants, the other two areas are rural. In these project areas, the majority of the population identify as Aymaras. MAN-­B was an established NGO in terms of financial resources and staff and with the objective of improving life conditions in the communities. The main administration in La Paz held several offices with 20 to 30 persons. A Diaconal Office and an Office of Operations were located at the headquarters together with the leadership and administration. The development work was organised in teams, each with their own leader, in the areas El Alto, Caranavi and Sorata. In Sorata, the area I focused on, there were between seven and ten operative staff, called ‘facilitators’, at the time of my fieldwork. Each area had three programmes, Social Development, Economic Development and Diaconal Development, and the team was responsible for the implementation of projects together with the communities and local authorities and organisations. MAN-­B had a house in Sorata, the main community in the area, where the operative staff had their ‘home’ for three weeks per month. They were to a large extent dependent on being offered food and, whenever necessary, shelter, in different communities, and they shared a daily rhythm. The mission and vision statements of institutions are key parts of their formal self-­presentations and identity markers (James, 2009, pp.  14–15). Both the mission and the vision statements explicitly identified MAN-­B as an NGO working with development as its core action and objective: Based in diakonia MAN-­B is facilitating processes of integral development together with the families, local organisations and communities. (Mission in MAN-­B, 2012) Persons and families with quality of life [are] working for the integral development of their communities in the perspective of the Kingdom of God. (Vision in MAN-­B, 2012)

48   Constructing a faith-based identity The faith-­based identity is expressed as the basis for the development action through the use of the terms diakonia and the Kingdom of God. These are not commonly used terms in the broader society but refer to theological understandings of the motivation for and main goal of the development activity. These statements are expected to be understood by readers familiar with faith-­based Christian work. The term integral development points towards an understanding of development that may include a religious dimension, although not necessarily. The understanding and use of these key terms in discourses and practices are analysed in the following chapters, and for now they serve to point to MAN-­B’s use of both theological as well as development terms in their formal presentations. Through the mission statement, MAN-­B presented itself as an actor working together with ‘families, local organisations and communities’. The units are collectives, and individuals are secondarily introduced as ‘persons’ in the vision statement. Churches were not mentioned explicitly in these main presentations of MAN-­B, despite the historical and contemporary role they played as an obvious network. Omitting them could be a strategic response to an underlying tension in faith-­based development, namely the required separation between ‘evangelisation’ and ‘development’. As this book explores, striking a balance between the two is important to comply with international requirements of tidy relations between religion and development, but also to counter suspicion found in Andean communities towards evangelism. Values and staff ’s motivation are often considered a distinct feature of FBOs (James, 2009, p. 14). In analysing this aspect, it is necessary to distinguish between official institutional values and individual staff ’s values and motivation in daily tasks. Einar Aadland (2010) makes such distinction describing values in professional practices as ‘constructs of worth, being espoused in language as goals, ideals and preferences, or extracted from actions through processes of interpretative sensemaking’ (p.  463). Institutional values are espoused in the language of formal documents, while values extracted from action are found in staff ’s interpretations of their actions and ethical practices (Aadland, 2010, p.  463). MAN-­B’s Strategy Plan (2012) provided a list of institutional values: love, trust, diaconal facilitation, justice and stewardship. Apart from the term ‘diaconal’ these are common values also for non-­religious actors. ‘Trust’ was not framed with as specific religious explanation and pointed further to common ideals in development such as honesty, transparency, co-­responsibility and respect. James (2009) comments generally on the values of FBOs saying that ‘many of these values are shared by many secular agencies and indeed they may practice them more consistently’ (p. 14). There is however a potential for FBOs to add ‘the notions of divine duty and calling’ (James, 2009, p. 14). This was found in the way love was presented as the fundamental value in MAN-­B, given by God as gift that should be shared with the communities as ‘acts of love’ (MAN-­B, 2012). The value ‘diaconal facilitation’ indicates a specific Christian basis through the use of diakonia, a term frequently used at all levels in MAN-­B. The role of MAN-­B was stated to be to facilitate integral development from ‘a perspective of service’, with ‘a diaconal focus’ and ‘a diaconal relation’ with local organisations, the state and civil society

Constructing a faith-based identity   49 (MAN-­B, 2012). The value of justice was also coded in religious language and referred to the belief that every human being should have the same possibility for ‘development, access to services, resources and participation’ as sons and daughters of God (MAN-­B, 2012). References to diaconal service and God’s creation were also briefly used in arguing for the value of stewardship as commitment to care for the environment.

IELB: a church engaged in social development IELB is a national church institution recognised by the Bolivian state in 1972. The church was formally established in 1959, as a result of missionary work by the World Mission Prayer League from the USA from 1938 (Benito, 2008, pp. 73–106). In their own history book, IELB is described as ‘a community of believers, which is naturally a community of solidarity, obedient to the Word of God, committed to the people in their desires to construct a society of justice, solidarity and with peace’ (Benito, 2008, p.  67). The majority of the approximately 120 local congregations were found in the department of La Paz, but IELB was also present in the departments of Cochabamba, Santa Cruz and Cobija and had a declared strategy of establishing congregations at a national level. IELB is by many considered and presented as an ‘Aymara church’ because of its strong presence among this indigenous group. The Strategy Plan 2009–20 stated that IELB is an ‘indigenous church’, an identity aspect I will show as influential on many levels (IELB, 2008). In IELB the main office of the national church is organised with the aim of fulfilling its obligations both to the local congregations and to national and international partners and networks. The office held a small administration (including the Church president) and three secretariats: the Secretary of Education, the Secretary of Mission and the Secretary of Social Development. In addition, they had two coordinators, a Coordinator for Youth and a Coordinator for Women.2 The development programme ‘Diakonia in action’ was the responsibility of the Secretary of Social Development, and the operative work of the projects was carried out by technical staff. At the time of my fieldwork IELB had contracted six persons to work with projects that included solar tents, latrines, water systems and capacity building for women. For about three weeks a month they moved around in different communities and were offered food and shelter and took part in the daily life there. While the churches were not mentioned in the mission and vision of MAN-­B, IELB talked as a church. We proclaim, we announce, we teach, we testify and we live the gospel of Jesus Christ in our reality. (Mission in IELB, 2008) To be a solid and self-­sustainable church for the service and practice of the Gospel through the gifts of the Holy Spirit. (Vision in IELB, 2008)

50   Constructing a faith-based identity Their mission is a communal statement of what ‘we’ do and contains theological language. There are no direct references to development, but the statements build on the assumption that the reader is familiar with IELB as a church and the inclusion of social action as part of their activities. The vision expresses that the church is a goal in itself, but not independent of its quality as ‘solid and sustainable’ and serving and practising the Gospel (IELB, 2008). While for MAN-­B the goal is reached when they themselves are made unnecessary and the work left in the hands of the community, IELB’s aim is to exist and be even stronger as an institution. The focus is on the church itself, and no other actors are mentioned in the mission and vision statements. IELB spoke as a church and to people that knew what a church is and were familiar with theological language and terms such as the Gospel of Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit. Their primary references in the mission and vision statements were related to religion, while their identity as a development actor remained implicit. Objectives in the Strategy Plan did however refer directly to the social development work. The church’s mission should result in ‘an effective contribution with integral participative development at community, family and individual level, based in the diakonia of Jesus, in the communities of believers and the Lutheran church’s area of action’ (IELB, 2008). Main actors of development were introduced and ‘integral participative development’ and ‘diakonia’ are key concepts well known in faith-­based development discourses. Development work was presented as part of the church’s role in society and meant to contribute to IELB being ‘socially recognised for its vocation and evangelical practice’ (IELB, 2008). IELB drew on theological as well as development discourses in their formal presentation. While MAN-­B expressly listed its institutional values, IELB’s values were more implicit. The Strategy Plan presented IELB with responsibilities for ‘preaching the integral gospel of Jesus Christ in Bolivian society, without distinctions based on race or social condition’ and to ‘promote life, peace and respect the native culture as an Indigenous Church’ (IELB, 2008). Peace, justice, love and diakonia were also values to be promoted by IELB, described as a ‘prophetic and liberating’ church (IELB, 2008). These values are not provided with any definition but are assumed to be meaningful to readers familiar with the theological discourse they are part of. Similar to the way in which MAN-­B referred to love as a key value, IELB also related love to a divine source and calling: ‘Practicing the diakonia as a fruit of God’s love, being doers of the word and not only listeners’ (2008).

Influential relations Institutional strategies, marked by religion as well as development, are ultimately results of internal negotiations between individuals. Yet these processes are heavily influenced by international and national partners in development, religious institutions and different actors in local communities. IELB and MAN-­B depended on relations at local, national and international levels to do their work. This dependence and their position between international partners

Constructing a faith-based identity   51 and local communities required negotiating skills in mediating tensions between different interests and unequal power relations. MAN-­B and IELB’s choice of institutional partners is an expression of their double-­sided mission. They cooperated closely with institutions, groups and individuals in seeking community development, and they were part of different networks of churches which shared common goals in the religious field. Both IELB and MAN-­B worked together with and as a rule shared the funding responsibility with the local municipality. They required some kind of counterpart from the implementing community, either in the form of money or local resources and/or labour. Local grass-­roots organisations in the area were fundamental partners, e.g. other NGOs, churches, indigenous organisations and authorities. The foundation for initiating a project was the cooperation with local governments and community members, and MAN-­B and IELB should primarily hold a coordinating function. The first step was for the community to present a project application that exhibited their commitment and a justified need. The power of IELB and MAN-­B to influence the communities is obvious, but I will also show how communities, presented as partners in development, exercised important influence in the faith-­based institutions.3 This was particularly visible in daily practices, as will be explored in Chapter 7. Both MAN-­B and IELB were part of regional and national networks in Bolivia. They formed alliances with other institutions working on the same development questions, such as environmental care, health, access to water or women’s empowerment.4 Even though it was not mentioned formally, MAN-­B associated with different ‘friends’ also in the religious field. They had connections over time with the association of evangelical churches in Bolivia, ANDEB, with other faith-­based evangelical NGOs and with the Centro de Capacitación Misionera (CCM). ANDEB was also a network for IELB, together with Iglesias Unidas de La Paz – Bolivia, an illustration of their identification as an evangelical church. IELB was however also linked with ecumenical institutions, such as the theological institute of superior education ISEAT and the faith-­based educational NGO CEBIAE. Through association with these regional and national partners, IELB and MAN-­B positioned themselves as faith-­based institutions and identified with different theological discourses. MAN-­B and IELB were dependent on their international partners to fund their development work. MAN-­B had a few Norwegian workers, employed and financed by the Norwegian Mission Alliance (NMA), but the great majority of the staff in MAN-­B was Bolivian. All funding for MAN-­B’s work came from NMA, channelling funds from the Norwegian government.5 IELB presented a list of Latin Amer­ican and other international partners, among them the LWF, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), the Latin Amer­ican Council of Churches (CLAI) and the WCC (IELB, 2008). Some of these international actors were the main sources of funding, while others were primarily discussion partners. The leadership in IELB travelled quite frequently to different meetings within these networks. IELB continued to receive missionaries and at the time of my fieldwork there were two missionaries from the ELCA.

52   Constructing a faith-based identity The choice of partners as well as of ‘beneficiaries’ are possible distinctive features of FBOs (James, 2009, p. 16). IELB and MAN-­B presented women and youths as particularly vulnerable groups in line with common understandings found in international development discourses. Women and younger generations were presented as more affected by the lack of fulfilment of basic rights and as frequently excluded from participation and decision-­making processes. From the 1970s, when Esther Boserup drew attention to the role of women in development, the development debates have included women, and later on gender, as a particular focus (Momsen, 2004, pp.  12–16). Youth has also entered as a particular focus group in recent years, although far less extensive than women. Within Christian international discourses on development and mission, youth is considered a particularly important group to address in order to influence their values. Gender is also high on the agenda among Christian actors, not least in the global ecumenical movement.6 IELB and MAN-­B worked in rural areas mostly inhabited by the indigenous group Aymara. Despite this, they did not present themselves explicitly as working for indigenous rights, a discourse that could have appealed to both international donors as well as important institutions in Bolivia. Ethnicity and indigenous identity have been key issues in the political debate in Bolivia in recent years, changing the way indigeneity is perceived and used (Canessa, 2006; McNeish, 2011). Within international development the rights of indigenous peoples have been prioritised in the last three decades. As I will explore in this book, the Aymara culture was highly valued and recognised by individuals in both IELB and MAN-­B. This is linked to their relations with who they officially presented as their main partners: the communities. In the rural areas in the highlands of Bolivia people most often identify as belonging to a certain community. The term indígenas often refers to smaller groups living in the Amazonas region, while the Aymaras and Quechuas are known as pueblos originarios. One of the MAN-­B leaders explained their lack of focus on official indigenous rights pointing to the practice of identification as part of a community: So, for example, when we ask a person that lives in a community in Sorata if he is originario or indígena he will not know how to respond [he laughs]. So, ‘No, I am from this community’. So, one has to convince him that he is originario. (Interview 24) According to this leader, international organisations are the ones promoting the classification of indigeneity. His explanation however overlooks the strong and organised indigenous movement in Bolivia and their insistence on collective rights, within the framework of international discourses. IELB and MAN-­B’s relation to religious aspects of the Aymara culture is a key underlying tension this book addresses and one of the reasons for maintaining a certain distance to indigenous organisations.

Constructing a faith-based identity   53

Churches as actors of development Both IELB and MAN-­B cooperated with local churches. Within theories of development, churches are often treated as civil society actors along with other NGOs. Several researchers have argued that churches committed to contributing to society are often among the most credible actors in civil society and can represent a broad grass-­roots movement (Jones and Petersen, 2011, p.  1296). Churches do however also pose particular challenges, as I will also discuss. IELB is a national church constituted by local congregations, presented as key players in decisions and operationalisation of the social development work. The local churches and their members were described as the main actors in fulfilling the twofold God-­given mission of making disciples and improving life quality (IELB, 2008). The leadership stated that the local churches played a threefold role in social development projects; though participation in selection of communities, as advisers in the implementation and as responsible for the ­follow-­up of the projects to secure sustainability. This supposedly close connection between the congregations and the social development work was however not reflected in the Strategy Plan. Some traits in Operative Plans and reports from the Secretariat of Social Development did however point to how local congregations were involved teaching women handcraft and promoting ‘spiritual strengthening’ (IELB, 2011, 2012). It was explicitly stated that one of the criteria for selecting a project was to strengthen the work of the congregations in the place of implementation. There had been a pressure from congregations to benefit more from the social development work in IELB, and on several occasions the Secretary of Development had been criticised for not taking the local churches into consideration, and been accused of ‘operating more as an NGO’. A resolution from the National Assembly urged better coordination of the totality of the work of IELB, not least referring to social development action. The active role of the local churches in IELB’s development work raises contentious questions of instrumentalisation. Are development resources and projects used as instruments to strengthen the local congregations? Is this legitimate? Instrumentalisation of either religion or development, as I will further discuss, is one of the continuing unresolved tensions and dilemmas of faith-­based development work. In MAN-­B’s Strategy Plan (2012) the churches played a secondary role compared to the communities. Local churches were presented among other potential local actors in development: An important aspect to highlight is the case of connecting the local church to the community, with the different local social actors, and through this to community development, both in rural and in urban areas. This connection is the result of the church projecting itself towards the schools and the community. The mission [MAN-­B] facilitates the construction of a ‘connecting bridge’ in the social process of facilitating development, taking as the basis the churches’ practice of integral mission and diakonia. (MAN-­B, 2012)

54   Constructing a faith-based identity MAN-­B’s strategy was to be a ‘bridge-­builder’ and get the churches involved in community development activities. The means and methods were to promote theological reflection to influence the understandings and practices of the churches. As such, the local churches were a ‘mission field’ for MAN-­B’s promotion of diakonia and integral mission. On a formal and official level MAN-­B did not have any policy on which churches they worked with. This can be interpreted as an open invitation to every church, of whatever confession, formal structure, theology and leadership. In practice, however, they worked with certain categories of Protestant churches, ranging from Methodist and Lutheran to independent Pentecostal churches. There were considerable variations between the different project areas when it came to types of churches involved. In El Alto they used certain informal criteria and based on experience they only worked with established denominations and not independent churches. In Sorata the policy was that the churches were the ones to close the door on MAN-­B, and not the other way around. The Sorata team had so far not seen a need to establish criteria, apart from the loose requirement that they worked with ‘evangelical’ and ‘Christ-­centred’ churches. The actual practice or unofficial strategy was therefore that MAN-­B worked with the churches that wanted to work with them, as long as they were not Catholic. Churches as institutions were not provided any formal position to participate in MAN-­B’s strategic decisions. Despite the lack of formal institutional power of the churches, they had a more indirect impact. The influence churches exercised was based on individual persons engaged in both a church and in MAN-­B. Several church leaders were members of the directing board. They were mainly located in La Paz and not part of the local churches in the project areas. I will soon turn to the possible influence through MAN-­B staff ’s active church attendance. In the case of IELB, I raised the question of whether the influence of local congregations runs the risk of development projects becoming instruments for church growth. The way MAN-­B presented the relation to local churches makes it relevant to ask whether the churches were mainly a means used instrumentally to reach development goals.

‘Well, God decided it’: personal religious identities Individual staff in both IELB and MAN-­B presented church attendance and personal faith as important for the positions they had within the institutions. Individuals exercise agency framed by the institutional structures, and at the same time they constitute and construct them.7 The staff ’s religious identity is therefore important to how the institutions’ relation to religion is perceived both internally and externally. Staff ’s personal faith related to how and why they got the position, what their motivation was, and how they did their job. In both IELB and MAN-­B people’s religious identity was a central question in recruitment of staff. ‘How much “faith” they look for in the recruitment of staff ’ has been an aspect used to distinguish between FBOs (James, 2009, p. 17). Instead of taking such a ‘quantitative’ approach I will show that the two institutions in question

Constructing a faith-based identity   55 vary considerably in the way they describe the ‘right’ religious identity of the staff. It will also become clear that there are different opinions between the leadership and operational level on this issue. In IELB individual religious identity was mainly related to being Lutheran. Staff members presented Lutheran identity through telling stories of belonging to one of the local churches or to the central office of IELB. The leaders were elected first as candidates from their church regions and then in the National Assembly, and they stressed that they were selected based on experience and formerly held positions. A secretary of one of the offices described the ‘climbing’ to the leadership level as a scale of positions, first in his own congregation, then holding different roles in the national board of IELB and finally being elected in the key position as a secretary. The majority of the operative staff, called ‘technicians’, also had long periods of experience in local churches, and this was valued by the leadership. They were presented as ‘the face of the church’ in the communities and as playing an important role in connecting social development projects with the local churches. Even if most of them were Lutherans, IELB had contracted technical staff who were not. The professional skills needed made them contract persons without Lutheran church experience, but with the expectation that they act as representatives of the church. To compensate for their lack of experience from a Lutheran church they were given a course on the identity of IELB. A ‘Lutheran identity’ or church affiliation were not formal criteria, but for two practical reasons most operative staff still complied with these. First, earlier experience showed that persons of other confessions had some difficulties remaining loyal to IELB in confessional questions, such as baptism. Second, local churches and communities expected and asked the technical staff to lead or participate in religious practices such as prayer or presentation of a Bible message. Theological formation was the second key marker of individual religious identity found in IELB. All the leaders introduced theological training as part of their self-­presentation. As a church institution, IELB formally requires their pastors to have at least a minimal level of theological training. The focus on theology as a central part of one’s own personal background for holding the position was therefore natural. All but one of the leaders in the main office had been pastors in local congregations for periods ranging from one to 25 years. Their theological training varied from a few courses to a university degree in theology. The Secretary for Social Development had less theological training and was the only leader without the pastor title. At the operative level, only one of the technical staff mentioned that she had formal theological training. IELB leaders pointed to a need to strengthen the theological competence of the operative staff to meet the communities’ wish for spiritual practices, not least for non-­Lutherans: Sometimes when you’re in a community they ask you to pray for a sick person, that you intercede in a conflict, so this happens as a fact, that the circumstances push you. Out of that we have asked for a way to coordinate

56   Constructing a faith-based identity with the Secretary of Mission so that our technicians can capacitate themselves in this spiritual dimension which forms the background for the diaconal work. (Interview14) While IELB as a national Lutheran church was fairly homogeneous when it came to church affiliation, the staff in MAN-­B belonged to various churches. As part of an evangelical interdenominational institution the staff members pointed towards two main aspects of a religious identity. First, they played out the particularity of their own identity through stating their specific evangelical denomination. Second, since evangelical Christians are a minority compared to Catholic Christians in Bolivia, many defined their identity as evangelical in contrast to Catholic. The leaders explicitly stated what type of church they belonged to, and they were all engaged in evangelical churches ranging from Pentecostal to Presbyterian. At the operational level both Catholics and Protestants made a point of identifying as such. The reasons for introducing their confessional identity should be understood in light of the official institutional identity of MAN-­B as an evangelical NGO. Evangelical identity was closely connected to the staff ’s individual spirituality. Guidelines for selecting and firing staff stated that the ‘evangelical identity of the persons is an essential factor’ (MAN-­B, 2012). This ‘evangelical identity’ was no objective criteria, but highly dependent on personal interpretations. In the Strategy Plan it was connected to a ‘spiritual development based on an intimate relation with Christ and following his diaconal ministry’ (MAN-­B, 2012). Several Catholics worked in MAN-­B, and being an evangelical was not a requirement for being employed. Still, during my fieldwork the discussion about Catholics and evangelicals came up from several angles. At the leadership level, a Catholic confession was looked at with suspicion, based on the above-­mentioned idea of an ‘evangelical identity’. There was an underlying, and frequently explicit, question of whether identifying as a Catholic made an ‘intimate relation with Christ’ probable. Leaders presented a personal spiritual relation to Christ as a requisite for diaconal action, although not without internal contradictions. One of them asked whether diakonia could be carried out by ‘persons who have not accepted the Lord Jesus’ (Interview 20). He answered his own question by saying that they can to a certain point, but that the ‘true’ diakonia for him was the fruit of the faith in Jesus Christ. His colleague went even further, saying that without ‘Jesus living in your life’ you will not obtain any transformation at all, referring to the international discourse of transformational development (Interview 19; Myers, 2011, pp.  173–92). A third person in the leadership group stated that diakonia was based in the person him or herself and cannot be taught: The profile of this position has to be this deacon, firstly committed to Jesus Christ, the poor, that’s the basis. Because you can, if you do not manage Excel well, you can go to a course and learn. And you can go to a university and learn, let’s say, administration. But what’s inside you comes from the

Constructing a faith-based identity   57 family, from your church, all the background that one has, the same with what you have learned from your encounter with the Lord, all that you have learned, right. (Interview 17) The picture was quite different at the operational level in Sorata, where relations between Catholics and evangelicals were presented as harmonious: We might belong to different churches, have different ways of thinking, but in the end we all believe in God. That is the most important. I at least, I always say that I don’t care about the churches. I could go to the evangelical church, the Catholic. If I pray to God with all my heart and also do the things with a lot of love, the other doesn’t matter. (Interview 11) Despite the openness towards different confessions shared among team members in Sorata, they confirmed a tension between Catholicism and evangelicalism in MAN-­B. The Catholics I spoke with made a point of not having any problems in the team, yet they were self-­critical towards their own church and focused on the relation between themselves and God. One of them told me that as a Catholic he was sure MAN-­B was looking for an evangelical, and he was surprised when he got the job. In the main office a colleague told him that while working in MAN-­B he was expected to join an evangelical church, which he did not do. While the operational staff in Sorata focused on how they shared faith across confessional boundaries, the leadership in the main office in La Paz exposed a more sceptical attitude towards religious ‘otherness’. Leaders in MAN-­B stressed the importance of individuals’ ‘intimate relation with Christ’ and linked this with an understanding of spiritual guidance in life and work. God was presented as a personified actor in the lives of individuals and portrayed as important in guiding or appointing persons to positions in MAN-­B. One of the leaders told me how God decided that she got the position: So, I said: ‘Well, I would like it here in Mission Alliance’. So, I had kind of an idea of what the question of the Mission was, so I said ‘well, I can contribute with something if God permits me, right’. Well, I am quite active in the Assemblies of God. I’m an evangelical, so I said: ‘Lord, I want to leave the possibility to do service in this evangelical institution Norwegian Mission Alliance in your hands.’ So, it turned out to be and I said ‘well, God decided it’. (Interview 19) Another colleague also expressed how God told her to work in MAN-­B and presented the dialogue she had with God for guidance and decision. This tendency to express their formal work position as the will of God was also confirmed by the practice of officially praying for God to decide on who should be selected for vacant positions.

58   Constructing a faith-based identity These examples illustrate how the interpretation of one’s own life was marked by an understanding of participating in a spiritual reality which influences and structures the personal life as well as the composition of an institution. The will of God was a factor in explaining what happens, and God was seen as a direct conversation partner. One MANB leader expressed: And, well, this topic is very complicated, and much more when the Lord says to me ‘you will go to the Mission [MAN-­B]’. I said ‘What is the purpose that God has for me here, or what am I going to do here?’ (Interview 17) Prayer as a spiritual practice, through which persons communicated with God, affected their private life and their work. Staff provided meaning and purpose to their position by presenting it as the will of God. God was considered the supreme actor and other actors were influenced by this divine power. This does not mean that the formal competence and professional criteria for positions was of little importance. The leaders focused quite a lot on their own professional formation and work experience from other NGOs, mainly faith-­based. The way they presented themselves as the right person for the job referred to both formal qualifications and faith commitment. The operational staff in MAN-­B did not talk of God’s action as part of the reason for being selected for a position. Religion was however used to frame one’s work with a ‘higher’ purpose: And that is the most beautiful, that there really seems to have been God’s purpose behind and you understand this purpose you have been looking for. And that purpose is important. I think that one suddenly understands why it is that you engage so deeply into the project, you enter so deeply with the people, with the families. (Interview 9) This staff member expressed how important and fulfilling it was to understand one’s work as part of God’s plan. While leaders understood themselves to be selected by God, operative staff expressed an understanding of God’s will or purpose as being behind what they did. These are powerful sources of motivation, but they bear with them serious risks of legitimising actions in the name of God that might therefore be difficult to criticise. The contentious issue of including God as an actor in development work is another of the key underlying tensions discussed in this book.

Performed religious identities: weekly devotions Both institutional as well as individual religious identity marked ritual practices (Lincoln, 2003, p. 6) in IELB and MAN-­B. I made systematic observations of their weekly devotions and this provided insight into usage and understandings

Constructing a faith-based identity   59 of key theological terms and foci. Weekly devotions in the main offices followed a similar structure in both institutions, aimed at bringing the staff together around spiritual practices of prayer, singing and interpreting verses from the Bible. Someone from the office led the gatherings and initiated communal singing of hymns, normally from a printed copy of a ‘homemade’ hymn book for each institution. The next activity was prayer, most often between the songs. The main part of the devotions was the message based on a Bible text, given either by an invited person or by one of the staff members. At the end, there was time for announcements before all participants shared something to eat and drink. Despite the similarities, the form and content of the devotions were varied. There was a diversity in the messages given, depending on the person in charge. Furthermore, the style of singing and praying was different in the two institutions. In MAN-­B an electronic keyboard piano was used to play background music and to accompany the songs and sometimes the lyrics were shown on a screen. They sang a mixture of traditional international Christian hymns and newer worship songs and often stood up while singing. In IELB they played a guitar and several of the songs in the hymn book had melodies marked by traditional Aymaran ways of singing in the Bolivian highlands. They mostly remained seated while singing. Praying was also an integrated part of the devotions, as a communitarian activity. People were asked to pray by the person directing the devotion. In IELB the prayers were not very extensive and normally there was one short prayer before the message and one at the end of the devotion. The style was ‘straightforward’, without many interjections in between. In MAN-­B they used more time for prayer. There was normally a short prayer by the facilitator at the start of the devotion, and after singing they moved to a planned time for praying. A weekly printed bulletin contained points to be prayed for, and different people were asked to pray for one or two points each. These moments of prayer normally took quite some time, as every person started with a general introduction, giving thanks to the Lord for different things, and often added other points to the one they were asked to pray for. There was an extensive use of short interjections (e.g. ‘Yes, Lord’, ‘Father’, ‘papito’) and confirming sounds, both by the one praying and others in the room. The style of the devotions can be approached as marked by both individuals’ faith identity as well as an institutional practice established through history. IELB started as a church in the rural highlands, an ‘Aymara church’, and the majority of their congregations are still located there. Participants in the devotions all belonged to the same church and shared similar songs, style and form. In MAN-­B they came from different churches and they lived and had resided in the city for a long time. The form was more aligned with the charismatic tradition found both among Pentecostal churches, but also in charismatic movements within historical churches. Many, if not most, of the staff members who worked in the main office in MAN-­B attended more or less charismatic churches. The analysis of the form of the devotions strengthens the conclusion of MAN-­B and

60   Constructing a faith-based identity IELB’s distinctive faith-­based identities. Weekly devotions, as performed religious practices, contributed to the construction of MAN-­B as evangelical, including charismatic expressions, and with a focus on a personal and spiritual relationship with Christ. The form of IELB’s devotions exposed how they were marked by their Aymara roots and identified them with a Lutheran identity and style of worship. In the next chapter I will show how the content of the preaching in these ritual practices support the same conclusion of IELB and MAN-­B’s distinct and different institutional identities.

Separating religion and development My analysis of formal documents, interviews with leaders and operative staff, and observations of weekly devotions painted IELB and MAN-­B as distinct as faith-­based institutions, but also different from each other. They were marked by discourses and practices that constructed religious identity differently, as Lutheran and as evangelical. IELB spoke of theology as a central part of what they are and do, while in MAN-­B they focused on spirituality. The distinctiveness of and differences between IELB and MAN-­B as faith-­based institutions were constructed through written and oral presentations and practices, both individual and institutional. As presented, theological and development discourses appeared together at a formal level in IELB and MAN-­B. However, the administrative arrangement of offices, secretariats and programmes pointed towards a division between religious and development activities. In MAN-­B they separated the programme concerned with churches and values (Diaconal Development) from the programmes of Human Development and Economic Development. Even though several facilitators expressed that there was some coordination between the different programmes, the administrative arrangement exposed a certain division of labour. The programme of Diaconal Development was historically called ‘evangelical work’ and focused mainly on working with the churches. The local churches continued to be a key focus, but the programme also included talks on values directed at schoolchildren and their families. The leaders of these diaconal programmes in the different areas, as well as in the Diaconal Office in MAN-­B’s headquarters, were all pastors and considered to be theological ‘experts’. One of their main roles was to preach and teach based on the Bible, be it in and to churches, in openings or closures of projects, in internal devotions or in other settings. The administrative organisation of different secretariats in IELB points in the same direction of an attempt to split up ‘mission’ from ‘development’. The Secretariat of Mission, led by a pastor, and the Secretariat of Social Development, led by the only leader without formal theological formation, had separate budgets, activities and systems of reporting. Internally in IELB staff expressed discontent with this way of ‘isolating’ social development work from education and mission and they wished for more unification. One of the leaders stated that coordination was limited because the Social Development department was

Constructing a faith-based identity   61 c­ oncerned with ‘diakonia’ and the ‘material’, while the Mission department focused on the ‘spiritual’ (Interview 13). In IELB it was clearly stated that such division was a result of their economic dependency on an international system of development cooperation that demanded a separation between ‘words’ and ‘deeds’. Both scholars, policy actors and practitioners within development have struggled with questions on whether and how to separate ‘proselytism’ and ‘development action’. Proselytism can be defined as proclaiming a religious message aiming at conversion, and close synonyms frequently used are ‘evangelisation’ and ‘missionary work’. Western governments have elaborated policies, often in the form of written guidelines, that demand a separation of proselytism from development action (Fountain, 2015, p.  80). Such a construction of dualisms is however also due to processes within the faith-­based institutions themselves. The term diakonia, used broadly in Christian-­based development, has historically been interpreted as actions of silent service. In recent years this separation has been questioned from the perspective of the actors within diakonia and development, such as churches and FBOs (Dietrich et al., 2014, pp.  1–9; Leer-­Helgesen, 2018). From an academic perspective, the question of this separation takes on an additional scope. I argue that the pragmatic separation in the practice field, but also the epistemological possibility of separating ‘words’ and ‘deeds’, are linked to an unresolved tension that needs to be recognised in faith-­ based development work. The following chapters will explore how this tension is negotiated in discourses and practices.

Notes 1 Throughout this book, I will refer to individuals randomly as female or male and place them in according to leadership or operative level, to strive for as much anonymity as possible. Exceptions are made in some cases, when persons representing the institutions in a formal position, spoke in open and public meetings. 2 Approximately 10 to 15 worked in the secretariats and administrative positions in the main office in 2012. 3 ‘Community’ refers to a limited geographical area and the people living there and/or identifying as belonging to this place. In Andean philosophy the community is the basic entity, not the individual persons (discussed in Chapter 3). Both IELB and MAN-­B define their work as ‘community development’. 4 Some examples were MAN-­B’s cooperation with i.e. LIDEMA (working with environment issues), PROCOSI (health issues) and IELB’s coordination with women organisations and organisations working with the right to water (UMAVIDA). 5 Via Digni, the umbrella organisation of Norwegian mission organisations involved in development work. 6 Institutions such as the WCC and LWF have particular programmes for youth as well as strategies and programmes on gender equity and justice. See www.lutheranworld. org/content/lwf-­youth and www.lutheranworld.org/content/women-­church-and-­society [accessed 26 February 2019]; www.oikoumene.org/en/what-­we-do/youth and www. oikoumene.org/en/what-­we-do/women-­and-men [accessed 26 February 2019]. 7 For a discussion on individuals and their room for manoeuvre within institutions, see Hardy et al. (2000).

62   Constructing a faith-based identity

References Aadland, E. (2010). Values in Professional Practice: Towards a Critical Reflective Methodology. Journal of Business Ethics 97(3), 461–72. Benito, A. M. V. (ed.) (2008). Sarantawipa. El caminar de la IELB. Una recuperaciòn de Memorias Significativas Sembrando Vida 1938–2008. La Paz: IELB. Canessa, A. (2006). ‘Todos somos indígenas’: Towards a New Language of National Political Identity. Bulletin of Latin Amer­ican Research 25(2), 241–63. Dietrich, S., Korslien, K. K., Nordstokke, K. and Jørgensen, K. (2014). Introduction: Diakonia as Christian Social Practice. In Dietrich, S. et al. (eds.). Diakonia as Christian Social Practice: An Introduction (pp. 1–9). Oxford: Regnum Books International. Fountain, P. (2015). Proselytizing Development. In Tomalin, E. (ed.), The Routledge Handbook of Religions and Global Development (pp.  80–97). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routlegde. Hardy, C., Palmer, I. and Phillips, N. (2000). Discourse as a Strategic Resource. Human Relations 53(9), 1227–48. IELB (2008). Plan estratégica Iglesia Evangélica Luterana Boliviana 2009–2020 [unpublished]. La Paz: IELB. IELB (2011). Plan operativo anual (POA) Gestión 2012: Diaconía en acción [unpublished]. La Paz: IELB. IELB (2012). Informe narrativo segundo semestre 2/2011. Secretaría de Desarrollo Social IELB [unpublished]. La Paz: IELB. James, R. (2009). What Is Distinctive about FBOs? How European FBOs Define and Operationalise Their Faith. INTRAC Praxis Paper. Jones, B. and Petersen, M. J. (2011). Instrumental, Narrow, Normative? Reviewing Recent Work on Religion and Development. Third World Quarterly 32(7), 1291–306. https://doi.org/10.1080/01436597.2011.596747 Leer-­Helgesen, A. (2018). Rethinking Diakonia and Transforming Our World. Ecumenical Review 70(1), 147–62. doi: 10.1111/erev.12336 Lincoln, B. (2003). Holy Terrors: Thinking About Religion After September 11. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. McNeish, J. A. (2013). Extraction, Protest and Indigeneity in Bolivia: The TIPNIS Effect. Latin Amer­ican and Caribbean Ethnic Studies 8(2), 221–42. doi:10.1080/17442222.20 13.808495 MAN-­B (2012). Plan estratégica Misión Alianza de Noruega en Bolivia 2013–17 [unpublished]. La Paz: MAN-­B. Momsen, J. H. (2004). Gender and Development: Routledge Perspectives on Development. London: Routledge. Myers, B. L. (2011). Walking with the Poor: Principles and Practices of Transformational Development. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books.

5 Theological frameworks for understanding development

Introduction One of the operative staff members in MAN-­B told me a story from a presentation she had on gender equality. A man from the community stopped her, saying: ‘You who represent a Christian organisation; the Bible says that the man is the head, so where does it say that he is not?’ The facilitator was left surprised and with a feeling of not being able to give an adequate response. Her story exemplifies how theological interpretations are part of operative development work and challenge the staff in concrete situations. In this case the facilitator expressed a lack of theological competence to enter the dialogue and defend the rights of women from a theological position. This raises questions of what role theology plays and which theological understandings prevail in the institution. I will in this chapter explore underlying theological ideas in IELB and MAN-­B, explicitly or implicitly disclosed in formal documents and interviews on leadership level and performed in weekly devotions. Theological discourses provide the frame of interpretation for the ‘why, how and where to’ of MAN-­B and IELB’s development work. These questions are intimately linked to understandings of Church,1 mission and the Kingdom of God. This policy statement from MAN-­B is a clear reference to the use of key theological concepts and how they are related to each other: MAN-­B relates its institutional vision to the imperatives of the Kingdom of God in the concrete situation of Bolivia, its mission to the challenges of the Church’s integral mission, and its action and institutional ethics to the focus on diaconal ministry. (MAN-­B, 2012) Development work is framed as a God-­given mandate and purpose, provides a spiritual dimension and is coded as religious through a theological framework. Church, mission and the Kingdom of God are ‘nodal points’, or key terms, ‘around which the other signs are ordered; the other signs acquire their meaning from their relationship to the nodal point’ (Jørgensen and Phillips, 2002, p. 26). These key words are provided meaning through their relationship with each

64   Theological frameworks for understanding development other and the orders of discourse they draw on, at local, national, regional and global levels.

Latin Amer­ican theological discourses Theological interpretations are embedded in local religious and cultural systems but are also situated in between national and international actors and theological currents. Two established Latin Amer­ican theological discourses, ecumenical liberation theology and evangelical teaching on integral mission, are helpful to understand how IELB and MAN-­B frame their work as faith-­based. These discourses emerged in Latin Amer­ican mission thinking and have become influential in global Christianity. The evangelical Lausanne movement has incorporated key lines of thinking of integral mission, while ecumenical liberation theology impacts the global ecumenical movement. Both discourses focus on the role of the Church and its mission in particular contexts of Latin America and they are Protestant responses to the same challenges that gave rise to liberation theology in its Catholic version. Their foundational missiological thinking is that the Church is to be engaged with social and political action in ‘the world’. These ideas can therefore be considered as counter-­discourses to the established evangelical missiology at the time, which tended to alienate the churches from ‘the world’ and its problems (Davies, 2006, p.  180). The dominant focus among evangelical Protestants in Latin America had been ‘the call to personal conversion, conceived in terms of the theology and practice of the Anglo-­Amer­ican “evangelical awakening” ’ (Bonino, 2004, p. 25). Ecumenical liberation theology and integral mission thinking both emerged in the 1960s as a reaction to the social and political context of poverty and injustice and as a response to how most evangelical churches reacted to this situation (Bonino, 2004; Padilla, 2010, pp. 1–25). Integral mission became an established school within Latin Amer­ican evangelical theology, developed by theologians connected to the Fraternidad Teológica LatinoAmer­icana (FTL).2 Despite the common emphasis on the social role of the Church, integral mission was also a reaction to liberation theology, both in its ecumenical and Catholic version. While theologians like René Padilla criticised evangelical churches for not paying sufficient attention to social and political questions of poverty and injustice, they claim that liberation theology downplayed proclamation and community with Christ as the foundation for salvation. Starting as a theology from Latin America, integral mission has become an influential theology worldwide as part of the global Lausanne movement and discourses of transformational development (Plant and Weiss, 2015).

Integral mission, diakonia and the Kingdom of God Both IELB and MAN-­B presented themselves as part of the Church and participants in God’s mission given to the Church. Their theological understanding of the Church’s mission is a central reason for why the institutions engage in development,

Theological frameworks for understanding development   65 as it legitimises their involvement and influences the way they work. MAN-­B expressly identified with the discourse of integral mission at a formal level: MAN-­B adheres to the biblical basis of integral mission as the centre of reflection and institutional action. This basis orients the plans, programmes and projects. MAN-­B will also give impulses to the local churches for a practice of mission that articulates the proclamation of the Gospel with attending to the needs of the community, particularly those that suffer from a lack of services, exclusion and injustice. (2012) The view of mission as integral included both proclaiming and living ‘the equal relations of the Kingdom of God’ under ‘the lordship of Christ’ (MAN-­B, 2012). In the IELB Strategy Plan (2008) the term ‘integral mission’ was not used, but it shared the fundamental meaning of the mission of the Church as involving both the ‘earthly’ and the ‘spiritual’ dimension and enacted through ‘proclamation, service and work for justice’ (IELB, 2008). IELB’s commitment to a ‘contextual mission of the integral Gospel’ as part of living an ‘evangelical and Lutheran life’ was emphasised (2008). The term ‘integral Gospel’ was not elaborated on in the Strategy Plan, but it was confirmed by leaders that it should be interpreted in light of the example of Jesus and his actions of proclamation and service. Despite not being explicitly used in written texts, integral mission was frequently used at the leadership level and presented as a mainstream discourse in the whole church organisation. It was considered a key concept used in the training programme for the Lutheran pastors, as ‘their own’ word: No, we don’t use diakonia much. We rather understand it in our own terms as an integral mission. When we say ‘we need to do integral mission’ I am saying that I have to do diakonia, right. And the same when talking about holistic mission in the [Lutheran World Federation] consultation, then I said that this holistic mission is not very known to us, but that we also understand this holistic mission as the integral mission of the Church, right. (Interview 16) This leader continues by explaining that integral mission means that ‘the Church should not only focus on the spiritual part, right, but the material part is also important. That I need to eat, that I am thirsty, right’ (Interview 16). He further draws on terminology well known to liberation theology, based in a theological model of ‘seeing analytically, judging theologically, and acting pastorally or politically, three phases in one commitment in faith’ (Boff, in Bevans, 2002, p. 77). As Church, the leader expresses, they must see the orphans or others in difficult situations in their congregation and the surrounding society: ‘So we always emphasise this, right, having the capacity to see’ (Interview 16). This is an example of IELB drawing on both the evangelical theology of integral mission as well as ecumenical liberation theology. While this leader provided

66   Theological frameworks for understanding development the most explicit explanation of integral mission, it was consistent with the understanding of mission expressed by his colleagues. They all described it as bringing the Gospel to people through proclamation and service. Such theological thinking must be recognised in the contentious debate on separating ‘evangelisation’ and ‘development’ in international development cooperation. It is, as I will continue to argue, the main reason why relationships between ‘words’ and ‘deeds’ will remain an unresolved tension in Christian development work. In both IELB and MAN-­B integral mission was closely connected to the term diakonia, as illustrated by the quote above. The word was used at the formal level in both institutions, both as a theological concept as well as referring to praxis. MAN-­B presented diakonia as a key identity marker and had a formal definition: It’s the Gospel in action expressed through loving your neighbour, inclusive communities, protecting creation and fighting for justice. It is essentially based in Christian faith; diakonia is the defence of life and human rights, giving priority to communities and persons in situations of exclusion. It is a proclamation of hope in the middle of the fight against poverty. Diakonia is practised for justice, not as charity. (2012) The Strategy Plan continued with a practice-­oriented focus, and diakonia was used to qualify other words, such as diaconal facilitation, diaconal focus, diaconal relation, diaconal ministry and diaconal ethics. The example of Jesus, described in Philippians 2:3–8, was included as a description of a diaconal ‘spirit of service’: Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross. (New Revised Standard Bible) MAN-­B’s formal understanding of diakonia is that it is part of God’s mission and expressed through human practices by persons committed to following Jesus in humble self-­sacrificial service and fighting for justice. In IELB’s Strategy Plan (2008) diakonia was mainly treated from a theological perspective. It was part of the description of IELB as a ‘prophetic and liberating’ church called to ‘proclaim the good news and denounce injustice, promote peace, justice and love and diakonia in the world’ (IELB, 2008). Diakonia was presented as part of an identity based in the Lutheran tradition and as included in the calling of the Church. Diaconal actions were understood as the church

Theological frameworks for understanding development   67 c­ ommunity’s responsibility, but also as part of what it meant to be a church. It was held as an integrated part of mission, enacted in loving service and work for justice following the example of Jesus. The collective diaconal action of IELB at the national level was the programme of integral participative development, also named ‘Diakonia in action’. The life of Jesus was lifted up as the ideal for the way the church should work with development projects (IELB, 2008). Summarising the above it seems clear to me that both IELB and MAN-­B used diakonia as a key term in their formal documents. They included a theological as well as a praxis dimension in their presentations. In MAN-­B diakonia went hand in hand with integral mission, while IELB linked it with being a liberating and prophetic church. This is another example of how MAN-­B mainly drew on evangelical theology, while IELB also included ecumenical liberation theology as a reference. Based on the theological references, diakonia pointed to praxis, and both institutions included service, love and justice as key descriptions. In the next chapter I will show how the institutions’ use of the term diakonia can be traced back to their international networks and global discourses of Christianity. IELB and MAN-­B presented the mission of the Church as working for God’s mission (Missio Dei) and the realisation of the Kingdom of God (IELB, 2008; MAN-­B, 2012). The Kingdom of God has historically and today been debated and interpreted in different ways, not at least among theological traditions in Latin America (Bonino, 1975, pp. 132–53). Protestant churches in Latin America have been dominated by a view of the Kingdom of God as ‘an entirely future reality with no present importance apart from being the arena for individuals to make a decision for eternity. The Kingdom is future and spiritual’ (Davies, 2006, 180). Ecumenical liberation theology and integral mission reacted to this one-­ sided interpretation and emphasise the Kingdom of God as ‘already here’ and still ‘not yet’. Distinguishing meanings given to the term is important to understanding the goals of IELB and MAN-­B. Did they emphasise a better life in this world or salvation to secure eternal life in the heavenly Kingdom? The Strategy Plan of MAN-­B (2012) defined the Kingdom of God as a present (the ‘already’) and future (the ‘not yet’) reality that signifies the establishment of relations of peace and justice between God, humans and the creation (Isa. 11:1–10). It signifies reconciliation of all the created with God the Father, under the lordship of Christ and in the power of the Holy Spirit (Eph. 1:10; 2 Cor. 5:17–20). It was further said that Christians are called to ‘live in accordance with the values of the Kingdom of God (Mk. 1:14)’ (MAN-­B, 2008). As a policy this was linked to the concrete situation of Bolivia, and MAN-­B aimed to reflect on the challenges for the Kingdom of God in this concrete historical reality, it was stated. IELB’s Strategy (2008) also reflected an understanding of the Kingdom of God as already present as well as a future reality. It was expressly stated that the role of the Church is to ‘promote the Kingdom of God on earth’, and that the Church should construct the Kingdom. The Kingdom of God is the goal, and

68   Theological frameworks for understanding development the Church’s role is to proclaim and lead towards salvation and to promote the Kingdom in this earthly life. This horizon was meant to guide all the church’s engagements, including social development projects (IELB, 2008). Despite the common understanding of the Kingdom of God as both present and future, IELB and MAN-­B differed in their emphasis on the Church’s role related to the Kingdom ‘already here’. IELB presented the Church as an active promoter and constructor of the Kingdom. In MAN-­B the focus was rather on how persons should live in accordance with the values of the Kingdom and reflect on the associated challenges, and it did not have the same sense of promotion. IELB strengthened the vision of being a driving force by identifying as a church that is ‘liberating prophetic’ and ‘called to announce the good news and denounce the injustices, promoting peace, justice and love and diakonia in the world’ (IELB, 2008). The verbs used by MAN-­B, ‘live according to’ and ‘reflect on the challenges’, imply a sense of obedience and of implementation of a spiritual reality already there, while the more active verbs ‘promote’ and ‘construct’ used by IELB bring a message of a calling to act and to being co-­creators. These different connotations of the theological term might seem to be of little significance to daily practices, but the intense debates on the ‘real’ meaning of the Kingdom of God has been and continues to be a divisive force in global Christianity. More concretely, as I will show in the next chapter, the interpretations in IELB and MAN-­B can be traced to their networks and discourses on both national and international levels. In the theological discourses expressed at a formal level in MAN-­B and IELB the mission of the Church is understood as twofold, as proclamation of the Gospel and service to the ‘poor’. There was however a difference in what came first. According to IELB (2008) the church is composed of members that proclaim and accept the Gospel, but who also promote the Kingdom of God on earth and practice diakonia. In MAN-­B the bond that holds the Church together was presented to be the faith in Christ, and the members are those who believe in Christ. This faith was presented as a spiritual relationship, and expressions of faith in terms of actions in society were a second step. The individual relationship with God through Christ was presented as the exclusive basis for the Church, while diaconal actions in the world should follow if this relationship was established and maintained. The weighing of proclamation versus social engagements has been and continues to be a topic of tension and mutual critique between evangelical and ecumenically oriented churches. Even though both integral mission and ecumenical liberation theology stress the double mission of the Church, the first has been criticised for still upholding proclamation as the superior goal, while the latter has been accused of giving priority to social and political work. In the formal theological discourses of MAN-­B, traces of a two-­ step thinking in which a personal relationship with Christ comes first, was identified. In IELB, faith and actions were combined and presented as fundamental and inseparable aspects of being a church and a Lutheran.

Theological frameworks for understanding development   69

‘I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly’ (Jn 10:10) I have shown the central position of theology in formal documents and among leaders in IELB and MAN-­B. The lens through which I approach theology will now be somewhat different, as the next section will disclose how staff more broadly used theology and Bible verses when framing different faith-­based practices. This quotation from a staff member in MAN-­B exemplifies how theology was presented as playing a role in relation to development and of how theological discourses were used: There is a close relation between the theological part and the development part, right. For me for example, the passage of John, chapter 10 verse 10, ‘I have come for you to have life and life in abundance’, right, that is really development, right. The Bolivian always says that he is poor, right, and in the worship all this is also reflected, right. So, the problem is that we should change the attitude of the persons, their thinking, saying that they are poor. God doesn’t want that, God really wants us to develop in an integral way. That doesn’t mean that we are only going to develop the spiritual part or the material part, but that there needs to be an equilibrium. So, this development must not make us distance ourselves from God, because that is what happens, there are people that have reached all in life, but they have forgotten about God. So that is a permanent challenge for all, right. Many times wealth, like the Bible itself says, the love for money is the root of all evil, right. So, I think there is a close relation between theology and development. (Interview 10) General theological references and specific Bible quotations were used to justify the idea that development is about God’s will for people to live well, to have ‘life in abundance’. God’s good will for humans was a basic assumption in the discourses in both IELB and MAN-­B. The verse from John 10:10, referred to in the quote above, was used in several interviews and in public situations. It was applied as a general reference and did not address specific questions of development, hence what ‘life in abundance’ meant and how it could be reached remained as an open question.3 The use of a concrete verse from the Bible was rare in IELB and MAN-­B when speaking of development. The common starting point of most theologically based arguments was that humans are created in the image of God: And on the other side this is the start of empowerment, because if I do not recognise that a person of a community that he or she is a son or daughter of God, then a process of empowerment can’t start, right. Afterwards it can, [but] first recognise his/her capacities, his/her intelligence, her/his experiences, her/his knowledges. (Interview 17)

70   Theological frameworks for understanding development This MAN-­B staff member based her whole argument for empowerment on seeing every person as a son or daughter of God. From this recognition followed a positive view of the person, with a focus on her competence and resources instead of her needs and lack of opportunities. Creation theology, the belief in God as the creator and upholder of the world and all human beings, was a source frequently drawn on in general theological arguments. The theological foundation was also based in the belief in Jesus as the redeemer of sins. Sin was presented as the cause of broken relationships and problems, as expressed by this leader in MAN-­B: I can’t say that it is all a consequence of sin, of course, sin also has its origin, but it is also the separation between man and the Lord. Man, when separated from the relation to God and with neighbours, then this man is the one that has made war in a civilisation X, all that we have at this moment, that they have destroyed instead of constructed and protected the environment. So, humans have to assume their responsibility. I can’t say ‘the Devil pushed me, and I did this’, right. (Interview 17) This leader identified broken relationships with both God and neighbours as sin and as causes for war and environmental damage. The responsibility for the destruction was placed with humans, a responsibility one had to assume, he stated. It was a theological interpretation of the state of the world, sin was identified as a hindrance to well-­being and redemption was required. In IELB, people’s actions as contrary to the good will of God was particularly highlighted in connection to care for the environment. The particular attention to ecological concerns can be explained as a consequence of an eco-­theology project which finished a year before my fieldwork. People ruin the world God created, this IELB leader argued: God said, as I said just a while ago: ‘I give you this earth for you to live in, for you to delight in, for you to enjoy, for you to govern’. But what happens? We ourselves are damaging it, right. With many things. An example: before the soils were fertile, but as time went by this has changed little by little. But what happens? Also, scientifically there are fertilisers that help production. But what about the chemicals and what about the ecological fertilisers? The chemical fertilisers will give a good result in the beginning, but with time they will sterilise. While the ecological fertilisers will maintain [a good result], but people don’t see this. (Interview 13) The quote illustrates a general discourse of God’s good intentions and human beings’ sinful actions in destroying creation and also points to the specific development question of environmental care. Another staff member in IELB presented creation theology as the basis for working with environmental issues:

Theological frameworks for understanding development   71 ‘We arrived at this from a biblical point of view, and from the point of view of God’s creation, where God gives us an assignment, arriving at our reality, the universe, the environment’ (Interview 12). IELB’s eco-­theology project focused on a prioritised development issue from the perspective of theology, but such strategic use of theological discourse was rather an exception than the rule. In MAN-­B they rarely used theology to justify and provide grounds for why they worked with specific development issues. A reluctance in MAN-­B towards open theological discussions and taking institutional positions led to a variety of theological foci in practice, including contradicting ones.

Challenging and competitive interpretations Although integral mission and ecumenical liberation theology were the main theological discourses drawn on in IELB and MAN-­B, other discourses challenged them. Different discourses and foci were at play through individuals’ interpretations. In IELB several spoke of the challenge of both conservatism and the Pentecostal influence, and this was considered an internal challenge for a Lutheran church. In MAN-­B the evangelical churches that did not want to cooperate with them were called ‘too conservative’ (Interview 18) and prosperity theology was highlighted as a challenge both at the board level as well as among operative staff. I argue that conservatism and prosperity theology are theological discourses within the structures of IELB and MAN-­B and that they to some degree contest and contradict integral mission thinking and ecumenical liberation theology. Conservatism was presented as a challenge by leaders in IELB. One of them commented on internal resistance towards the participation of women, referring to conservative ideas: There are some conservatives, like we say, very closed, who question it. They say for example, we have recently had a question, they say: ‘Why have women been ordained when the Bible doesn’t say pastora [female pastor], but only pastor?’ So, these are questions they don’t understand, they are very conservative. In a literal sense they say ‘it says like this, it is like this’, right. They do not do a rereading from women’s eyes or look at how life really is, so that is why we need to work much with this part also in some places, right. Not everyone, but there are places here it is like that, they continue to be conservative. (Interview 15) This is an illustration of different theological interpretations of gender relations. It shows that views on how the Bible should be read is a starting point for reflections that may change power relations internally in the church. ‘Conservatives’ within IELB were presented as a challenge by the leadership, as they did not read the Bible in light of the context and reality. They were ‘closed’ to the reality that surrounded them. In MAN-­B a similar negation of reality was grounds for

72   Theological frameworks for understanding development naming churches that did not want to cooperate as ‘conservative’. Such conservative views were what the discourses of integral mission and ecumenical liberation theology emerged as reactions to. The focus in conservative churches, as presented by IELB and MAN-­B, is on the heavenly and spiritual reality and not on engaging in and with this world. As argued above, this is right at the heart of the dispute of theological interpretations of the Kingdom of God. The ‘Pentecostalisation’ of Christian churches is one of the main trends in the religious field in Bolivia in recent years, as in the rest of Latin America (Estermann, 2008). Pentecostal churches might be more or less conservative and marked by prosperity theology to different degrees. The religious competition posed by fast-­growing Pentecostal churches was highlighted as a preoccupation by several IELB leaders, due to two main reasons. They had experienced that members left to attend a new church, and how theological interpretations in line with Pentecostal theology gained influence in their own congregations. To avoid a ‘pentecostalisation’ that alienated local congregations from a Lutheran identity, IELB worked on systematising what a Lutheranism in the Andes context should be (Eller, 2011, 2012). In MAN-­B the theological discourses were less ‘regulated’ since the identity as an interdenominational evangelical institution was based on the inclusion of various theological positions. Most of the staff were part of an evangelical church, but not all. Many belonged to Pentecostal churches and there were also several who attended the neo-­Pentecostal ‘mega’-church Ekklesia in La Paz. In MAN-­B there was a growing awareness of prosperity theology as a challenge to the evangelical churches and integral mission. The team in Sorata discussed it as a challenge that was already present in the communities and local churches. Prosperity theology and how MAN-­B should relate to it had also been debated as part of strategic discussions in board meetings. They had extensively discussed the place of proclamation as part of the institutional work, and if and how this could possibly be done in an institution with persons from different confessions and without institutional theological positions. One of the board members had spoken about prosperity theology in Central America and its arrival in Bolivia, and consequently raised the question of which churches should be considered evangelical. The result of the discussion was that proclamation was left out of the Strategy Plan (2012) as a task for MAN-­B, based on a concern of inclusion of staff from different confessions and the lack of institutional theological positions. In both IELB and MAN-­B, prosperity theology was considered a challenge to integral mission, but they responded to it differently. While IELB met the challenges through a focus on their Lutheran contextual theology, MAN-­B did not have a strategy for how to respond. Several people in MAN-­B, particularly at the operational level and in the board, asked for institutional theological positions to confront this prosperity theology. At the time of my fieldwork, it was however uniformly recognised that systematic theological reflection and elaboration of positions were not part of what MAN-­B did.

Theological frameworks for understanding development   73

Contradictory messages in MAN-­B As I made clear in the former chapter, formal self-­presentations as well as personal religious identities are part of how IELB and MAN-­B construct relationships between religion and development. Strategic documents as well as leaders in IELB and MAN-­B presented the main theological discourses as integral mission and diakonia. The performed theological practices, on the other hand, provide a more nuanced picture. My systematic observations of the weekly devotions illustrate the complex processes of constructing – or deconstructing – relationships between theological interpretations and development work. The ambiguous position of MAN-­B related to theology at an institutional level becomes obvious when looking at the weekly devotions. The staff member responsible for planning the devotions stated that the objective was to strengthen the staff ’s spiritually and their understanding of diakonia and integral mission. The persons invited to speak were presented as invited because of their competence on these themes. Yet only two of the six preachers spoke expressly about topics connected to diakonia and integral mission. One of them framed the institutional role of MAN-­B within the overall mission of the universal Church, through an explicit use of selected Bible texts. A section on how Israel organised their march when leaving Sinai (Numbers 10:11–36) was linked with a story of the first Christians to explain the fourfold role of the Church in the world. MAN-­B was situated as filling a key role in the integral mission, framing their actions within an overall religious purpose. I described his further message as follows in my field notes (2012): He then refers to and reads from Acts 2:41–42, about the first Christians and how they as Church complied with the integral mission: They baptised 3,000, are growing, marching ahead, and this is the role of the lion. They won people for Christ, as is the calling of the Church. Secondly, the pastor said that they studied the word and the doctrine profoundly, to be firm in their ways. Thirdly, the first Christians shared bread, and the pastor says that this is the role of Misión Noruega, who serves others through their work and by this assumes social responsibility, which is also the role of the Church. Lastly the praying and spiritual part of the church is presented in the text. His point is that the Church is complying with the integral mission in including these four aspects and roles. The message supported the theological discourse on integral mission and the role of the Church found in the formal documents and framed the work of MAN-­B in a religious interpretation of their own role as attending as servants. Another preacher spoke explicitly on the concept of diakonia. He was a leader in MAN-­B, yet in contrast to the preacher above, he did not focus on the institutional role. His focus was on individual staff ’s role and personal relation with Jesus. This was linked specifically to diakonia in MAN-­B, which should be based on Jesus as a model for diaconal practice of service. Putting oneself in

74   Theological frameworks for understanding development ‘Jesus’s shoes’, to pray and include him in the decisions, was recommended as the best way to secure the ‘right’ diaconal practice. His message confirmed the focus of the leadership and formal documents in MAN-­B, where the ‘right’ practice is dependent on a personal relationship with Christ. The other four preachers chose a different theological angle. They focused on the eternity to come and how one should endure temptations and sufferings in life. Their choice of texts and angles varied some, but the theme was common. The first one, here named ‘pastor José’,4 chose the prophet Malachi 2:17–3:6 as the text for reflection. He presented the people in the text as questioning God as unjust, arguing that God didn’t listen or respond, and they ended up ‘doing wrong’ and being fearless of God. Pastor José actualised this text through concluding that while waiting for God’s promises to be fulfilled, such as for example home and career, one should expect frustrations and temptations trying to lure you into wrongdoings and alienation from God. From the time of the frustration described in the Bible text, it took 400 years before God sent John and Jesus as fulfilments of the promises, pastor José argued. The message for us listeners was that if anyone was waiting for a promise to be fulfilled, they should be strong and resist temptations. Sometimes it is said, pastor José narrated, that being a Christian is to be happy and get things you wish for here and now. That is not the case, he said, and linked happiness to hope of eternity, the final goal and fulfilment of promises. ‘Here we live in the years of struggle, we are only pilgrims’, pastor José continued. Waiting and enduring was the way to live as Christians. The following week ‘pastor Pablo’ also reflected on one of the prophets, Isaiah 6:1–7. The text addresses the crisis after the death of King Uzziah, and sin was also the central theme in this message. Isaiah came to God with his problem of who would govern in the absence of the king. However, God made him understand that the real problem was another, namely sin and that Isaiah had been separated from God. The main problem was not the lack of a governor, but sin. Pastor Pablo used this story to argue that the current problems people faced were not ‘rebellious kids’, separation, death or loss of work or house. The main problem was sin and rebellion against God, which leads to separation for eternity, he argued. Both these pastors started with prophets in the Old Testament, focused on sin and the separation from God, and ended with the hope of eternal life by the coming of Jesus Christ. The challenges to be faced in this life on earth were resisting temptations, waiting and enduring problems. Pastor Pablo even stated that there is a God’s purpose behind what we experience as problems in this life, and that these problems were nothing compared to sin. ‘Pastor Nelson’ started off with a New Testament text, but had the same focus on individual sin and Christ’s redemption: The theme for his message, he said, was to live with and in Christ. The text his message built on was Phil. 1:19–26. We first read the text from v. 19–20. He asked us the listeners if we could name some liberators. Bolívar was named by some, some others too, and pastor Nelson himself mentioned

Theological frameworks for understanding development   75 Murillo and other names. He also named Bartolina Sisa [a female Aymara hero], said that she is ‘de moda’ [in fashion] now and will even have a plaza. He and several others laughed. He then went on to say what I perceived to be that these liberators have social and political causes as their focus of liberation. But, pastor Nelson said, the most important liberation is the individual liberation from sin. (Field notes 2012) He continued to say that Paul was liberated from sin and expressed joy even during persecution. Even in prison Paul glorified Christ, and pastor Nelson continued to explain that for Paul prayer and the Holy Spirit where the two things that brought him joy. The main message concerned the importance of prayer as the first step and then ‘things can fall in our laps, be it help or material things’, pastor Nelson explained. Seeking Christ must come first, he stated. Towards the end of his speech he talked directly about the work of MAN-­B. In line with his message of seeking Christ first through prayer, he expressed that ‘if you are only a technician, it isn’t worth anything’. If the staff in MAN-­B did not bring the Gospel through preaching and praying, their work was without value, pastor Nelson concluded. Underlying his preaching was an understanding of eternal life as the ‘real’ Kingdom of God and sin as a hindrance to reach it. Diaconal actions in themselves were not recognised as valuable. The last of the four preachers, ‘pastor Fernando’, also added to the overall picture of eternal life as the goal and the real reason to be happy in this world. Drawing on Luke 11:27–8 he concluded that those who ‘listen to the Word and keep it, will be more than happy’.5 Like Jesus and Paul one must endure the suffering in this world and wait for the eternal life: Our blessing is eternal life, not in this life. In this life we shall live with afflictions, and they will not stop. We will have a few happy moments, but there will be a lot of afflictions and worries. Negative things with follow each other, like sickness and so on. The daily life will also have happiness, but suffering is a blessing and we shall be more than happy in the afterlife. That has nothing to do with the thinking in this world. If we focus on the eternal life that will also be a blessing every day, but it is another concept of happiness. (Field notes, 2012) At the end pastor Fernando returned to his main points in a prayer, asking God to save us from loving this world and helping us to love eternal life. The majority of the preachers in MAN-­B had a theological focus on individual sin and hope for eternal life. They presented the world and the role of Christians in it as a sinful place with troubles and sufferings that must be endured and resisted. The Kingdom of God as already here was not emphasised, and the role of the Church as diaconal or integral mission was not even mentioned. Their theological focus did therefore not support the main theological

76   Theological frameworks for understanding development discourses in MAN-­B, but rather challenged ideas of integral mission and the Kingdom’s presence on earth. These messages did not frame the daily work in MAN-­B in a religiously meaningful way, but rather presented these activities as secondary to salvation for eternal life.

IELB: the Church in the world In the devotions in IELB, I did not find the same division between integral mission thinking and a focus on individual sin, eternal life and enduring suffering. The theological themes were varied, but the preachers shared a focus on what consequences faith in Jesus should have in daily life and for the role of the Church in society. Devotions in IELB were marked by dialogue, as comments were asked for and welcomed either during or after the message was presented. The first preacher, ‘pastor Elias’, spoke briefly on the Lutheran doctrine of salvation by grace and a gift from God (Ephesians 2:8). It is not deserved or because of our deeds, he said, but a cause for giving thanks to God for the salvation act through Jesus. The focus was followed up by the IELB president, who confirmed the gift of grace and further asked what this should lead to: ‘What then? What does this mean in our daily life, how do we express it at work, in family, in society?’ He said that being saved by grace does not mean libertarianism in the sense that whatever we do we get saved. ‘What does it mean for the life here and now, for us and for the church?’ the president asked. The message in the second devotion, given by ‘pastor Guido’, started off with the story of Zacchaeus in Luke 19:1–10 and was continued by dialogue with the rest of the participants. That led to several foci in the discussion. The first question was raised by pastor Guido and addressed people’s commitment to the Church and the Word. He asked how many had been to their local church on Sunday, and no one raised their hand. This led him further to question why the Lutheran churches are small, while the Pentecostals are growing. Pastor Guido characterised Lutheran churches’ approach as ‘presenting the Word’ as opposed to other churches that ‘proselytise’. One needs to reflect on the Word frequently and allow that it impact daily life, he proclaimed. Pastor Guido used the Bible text as inspiration and pointed to how Zacchaeus, when he met Jesus, repented and changed the way he lived his life. A second focus introduced in the conversation was Zacchaeus’s wealth. It was linked to another Bible story of a rich man, who was asked by Jesus to sell everything he owned. After a discussion of the difference in the way these two rich men responded to Jesus, the president again linked it to how one should act: ‘What we must ask is how do we come to the Lord? How do we use our capacities and our resources?’ He provided the response himself, stating that helping and working for and doing justice will make us richer. The person who preached in the third devotion, ‘pastor Edwin’, directed the listeners’ attention ‘upwards’. He said that contrary to what was often the case he wanted to focus on spiritual wealth instead of earthly things. Pastor Edwin talked about the importance of prayer, of asking God to provide for needs and to

Theological frameworks for understanding development   77 be prepared for the day Jesus returns. However, he did not preach that one should wait and suffer, but on the contrary asked people not to wait until tomorrow with what can be done today. He spoke about baptism and the communion as spiritual richness important for the church. Spiritual aspects are the most important, and God will provide what is necessary, pastor Edwin argued. The IELB president again brought the attention ‘down here’ and reflected further on what it means to be a Church: The Church is the assembly of believers; we bring hope, the ones believing in something. The faith that we can change this world is part of the Church. The Church is the assembly of people believing in a God who has revealed himself in this cosmos and is present in our daily life. He didn’t stay ‘up there’. (Field notes, 2012) A focus on sharing hope was also found in the message in the next devotion. Beginning with John 7:37 pastor Elias focused on the love of God as living water given to all. This water should be shared, he proclaimed, through justice, grace and love and without distinction between people. The Word should be preached as part of this, but according to the context. Pastor Elias reflected on sentiments of an absent God and preached that God is present and brings hope in situations of poverty and injustice. The only one who was not a pastor spoke based on Revelation 3:8 and 3:10, which he saw as comforting verses to the church in Philadelphia. Based on these verses on how the small church guarded and acted according to the Word, he self-­critically reflected on the role of IELB and himself in it. He was inspired by one of the small IELB congregations in Cochabamba and their work to ‘keep the Word’, and he asked himself whether he himself did enough for the church. This was an ecclesiological reflection, both on the role of IELB as church and individuals’ role in it. The IELB president pointed to the church in Philadelphia as an example to be followed, with open doors to society and everyone, without distinctions. The text challenges us to be a church with a purpose and to know why we exist, the president proclaimed. The last devotion that I attended in IELB was held on 17 October 2012, a day of remembering the ‘Black October’ and the ‘gas war’, nine years before. The IELB president said he wanted to talk about life and read from John 10:10 about Jesus coming to give abundant life. The IELB president linked this to the day of remembrance of people who lost their lives in the ‘Black October’ and encouraged us to reflect the value and importance of every individual’s life. He spoke of feeling lack of meaning in life and contrasted this with Jesus’s promise of life in abundance. The message was a reflection on the aftermath of October 2003 from a perspective of dignity and preserving life. The IELB president argued that the events had not led to better conditions for the people in El Alto or increased respect for life in Bolivia. He described the lack of fulfilled political promises after October 2003 and encouraged everyone to reflect critically on the

78   Theological frameworks for understanding development situation and to contribute to promote life and dignity. That was the role of the church in Bolivia today, the IELB president concluded. The messages in IELB were considerably shorter that in MAN-­B and included dialogue and discussion. The six messages all began with texts in the New Testament and from different angles they addressed what faith should mean for the practices of both the individual Lutheran as well as the Church in society. The faith in Jesus was presented as leading to personal change (giving thanks to God, repentance and changed practices, sharing hope, working for justice, defending life, commitment to the Church, etc.). At the same time the role of the Church as an actor in society was emphasised, contributing to change in the direction of justice and defence of life. The clearest voice promoting this line of thought was the IELB president. One of the messages was somewhat different from this broad picture and focused on the spiritual aspect, but also in that devotion the president turned the focus to the concrete life in society.

Ordering of theological discourses The institutional discourses of IELB and MAN-­B drew on discourses from the fields of theology and development theory at national, regional and international levels. Both ‘external’ fields as well as institutional discourses are marked by an ‘order of discourse’. An order of discourse is by Jørgensen and Phillips (2002) described as ‘a complex configuration of discourses and genres within the same social field or institution’ (p. 141). I have disclosed different theological currents in IELB and MAN-­B and how these provide – or not – development work with theological meaning. These different ways of making meaning can be ordered and positioned in relations to each other. They partly overlap and simultaneously compete to fill ‘the same terrain’ with meaning (Jørgensen and Phillips, 2002, p. 141). In IELB and MAN-­B, as well as in ‘external’ fields they relate to, ‘some ways of making meaning are dominant or mainstream in a particular order of discourse, others are marginal, or oppositional, or “alternative” ’ (Fairclough, 2003, p. 206). As argued, IELB and MAN-­B draw primarily on the two Latin Amer­ican theological discourses of integral mission and ecumenical liberation theology in their understanding of theological key concepts. Despite the clear focus on integral mission and diakonia at a formal level, the weekly devotions drew a more nuanced picture. The theological discourse that characterised most of them in MAN-­B was oppositional, or at the best ‘alternative’, to a focus on diakonia and integral mission. It was marked by thoughts of enduring sufferings in this fallen world and waiting for the Kingdom to come in the afterlife. This are well-­ known ideas in Pentecostal and neo-­Pentecostal churches, and it is often a characteristic of conservatism.6 Seen together with the focus on spirituality and ‘evangelical identity’ on a formal and leadership level, the weekly devotions support that a discourse centred on personal salvation and obedience to God is influential in MAN-­B. This challenge from an ‘alternative’ theological meaning-­ making was therefore not just external, but part of internal processes of

Theological frameworks for understanding development   79 c­ onstructing relationships between religion and development in MAN-­B. The messages in IELB’s weekly devotions were to a large degree supportive of the theological discourses of integral mission and diakonia. This contained the potential for strengthening IELB’s formal identity as a church, as most of the messages addressed questions of the internal relations of the church as well as the broader Church’s mission in and with the world. Concrete reflections on development projects were not included, but the role of the Church in society was coupled with key terms in discourses of development, such as life, justice and even suma qamaña. As already indicated, institutional discourses must be understood through their relations with discourses found in networks on local, national and international scales. IELB negotiated their discourses to fit with both their evangelical as well as their ecumenical network. Ecumenically oriented evangelical churches embraced liberation theology in its first years, including IELB and the Methodist church Iglesia Evangélica Metodista de Bolivia. At the time of my fieldwork IELB was part of ecumenical dialogues and interreligious meetings7 and had an active relation to the ecumenical institute ISEAT. These spaces are marked by thoughts emerging in liberation theological thinking, with an openness to indigenous traditions and a focus on social justice. IELB’s theological discourse was marked by liberation theological thinking, although this was seldom expressively recognised. This influence also came to the surface in the weekly devotions, where God’s presence among the excluded, the critique of the rich and powerful, and the promotion of justice were emphasised and discussed. At the same time, IELB leaders expressly identified integral mission as their way of thinking and were part of the alliance of evangelical churches in Bolivia, ANDEB. In MAN-­B integral mission thinking emerged from influence by local, national and international contacts. The Bolivian theologian Marcelo Vargas was one of the board members when the Strategy Plan (2012) was elaborated. As a general secretary of FTL and director of CCM in La Paz he has been a key figure in promoting and discussing integral mission. His influence, both as a board member as well as through the training of pastors in local churches, is at least one of the factors that contributed to how integral mission was understood and used in MAN-­B. However, the emergence of the discourse must be traced both before and beyond Vargas’s presence on the board. CCM had contact and more or less formal cooperation with MAN-­B for many years, and the NMA has promoted integral mission in several of the countries they worked in and with.8 IELB and MAN-­B differed in the way they related theology to development issues in institutional practices. Theological reflection and sharing are part of what it means to be a church and at the centre of what IELB is and does. It was visible in their formal documents as well as in the way they inspired people to reflect on the Bible verses and included dialogue in the weekly devotions. Theological reflection in the Andean context was a key marker of their institutional faith identity. Even though the weekly devotion was characterised by a dialogical form, the role of the church president as a theological authority was clear. He

80   Theological frameworks for understanding development linked the messages to the role of the Church in society and most often got the last word. As a leader with solid theological competence, his opinions served to confirm or operationalise the theological discourses found in the Strategy Plan (2008), while it might also have limited opposing voices and interpretations. Theological discussion did not mark the collective practices in MAN-­B, nor the devotions. Many of the staff held it as important that MAN-­B, as an interdenominational institution, should include different theological interpretations and positions. During my fieldwork I never observed any open theological dialogue in institutional settings. In an interview after one of the devotions a leader expressed her discontent with the message given by pastor Pablo: I believe that an evangelical Christian also suffers, also cries when someone dies, also has feelings and we can’t cover that and say otherwise. So, I said ‘ay, ay’. And I couldn’t say anything, and I left it there, but I want to clear it up in the next devotion we have. (Interview 17) She did not say anything during the devotion because she wanted to treat the pastor well, and neither did she comment on it in the next devotion. The words of the invited pastors were left without comments. As a contrast to the IELB president, the leadership in MAN-­B were reluctant to take on a role in practice to frame the work in a theological normative interpretation that fitted with the overall discourses of integral mission and diakonia. This chapter has exposed the key importance of theological interpretations and discourses in IELB and MAN-­B in framing their role in development. The next chapter explores how these theological ideas underpin and are negotiated in understandings of development as integral and in encounters with the discourse of suma qamaña.

Notes 1 I use ‘Church’ to refer to the theological understanding of the community of believers, while ‘church’ is used to refer to sociological aspects and institutional structures. Ecclesiology as a theological discipline is concerned with discussion of who the Church is and the role it should play in ‘the world’. 2 FTL is a Protestant movement that has worked with contextual theological reflection in Latin America since the 1970s. 3 This is also a verse that can be interpreted in the frame of prosperity theology, but neither MAN-­B nor IELB representatives commented on such possible interpretations. 4 All names are pseudonyms. 5 This was his interpretation of ‘blessed’, bienaventurado in Spanish. 6 For a brief introduction to Latin Amer­ican Pentecostal theology, see Bonino (2004, pp. 36–8). 7 The Morales government has several times called for interreligious meetings and celebrations, in which ecumenically oriented churches as well as indigenous spiritual leaders participate. One example was a gathering with focus on climate change, arranged during my fieldwork.

Theological frameworks for understanding development   81 8 Several of the former Norwegian missionaries personally knew Vargas and/or had been participating in the Bolivian FTL network. René Padilla visited Norway in 2012 on invitation by among others NMA, they promote integral mission and Padilla on their web page and invited him as part of their projects in both Bolivia and Brazil.

References Bevans, S. B. (2002). Models of Contextual Theology. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis. Bonino, J. M. (1975). Doing Theology in a Revolutionary Situation. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1975. Bonino, J. M. (2004). Latin America. In Parrat, J. (ed.), An introduction to Third World Theologies (pp. 16–43). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Davies, P. J. (2006). Faith Seeking Effectiveness: The Missionary Theology of José Bonino. PhD thesis. Utrecht: Utrecht University. Eller, J. (2011). Hacia una identidad luterana boliviana. Doctrina y teología. La Paz: IELB. Eller, J. (2012). Liturgia luterana en contexto. Teología y práctica. La Paz: IELB. Estermann, J. (2008). El mercado religioso y la religión del mercado. Una perspectiva intercultural al campo religioso en los Andes. In ISEAT (ed.), Religión y desarrollo en los Andes. Deconstrucción intercultural de una relación difícil (pp.  53–78). La Paz: ISEAT. Fairclough, N. (2003). Analysing Discourse: Textual Analysis for Social Research. London: Routledge. IELB (2008). Plan estratégica Iglesia Evangélica Luterana Boliviana 2009–20 [unpublished]. La Paz: IELB. Jørgensen, M. W. and Phillips, L. (2002). Discourse Analysis as Theory and Method. London: Sage. MAN-­B (2012). Plan estratégica Misión Alianza de Noruega en Bolivia 2013–17 [unpublished]. La Paz: MAN-­B. Padilla, R. C. (2010). Mission between the Times. Carlisle: Langham Monographs. Plant, S. and Weiss, D. H. (2015). Theology and Development. Christian and Jewish Approaches. In Tomalin, E. (ed.), The Routledge Handbook of Religions and Global Development (pp. 53–67). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge.

6 Faith-­based discourses of development

Introduction Theological discourses and underlying assumptions are keys to getting a deeper understanding of faith-­based views on development. Institutions negotiate their identities as faith-­based and as professional development actors through drawing on resources from the religious field as well as international development. In IELB and MAN-­B these negotiation processes are exposed in the three main discourses of integral development, diakonia and suma qamaña. I expose how they are portrayed with a common focus on relations and on religious aspects as important to development. This chapter explores power dynamics leading to frequent references to integral development and diakonia on leadership and formal level, and a prime position of the suma qamaña discourse in dialogues with communities.

Integral development: human development with a spiritual dimension In my understanding development is growing. It can be in different aspects, like how one can grow as a person, to something better, to be better. And integral development. Some of us often understand development as having more money, more material things. But I don’t think like that. That’s one part of development, [but] development should happen in different aspects, right. That a community has honest leaders, transparent, hard-­working, marked by solidarity, that he or she is a leader committed to her/his people. At the same time the people in the community should live in solidarity, be honest and these are attitudes, right. And they must also have access to water, to food, education, health [services] and have a road they can use for transport. There are so many things, right, and it is not just the material part, but it’s a totality that permits the human being to live better, and if one is permitted all of these things a better life is a step closer. And after, maybe, comes the technology; that is to have a television, mobile phone, internet and we go further. So, development, I believe, is all. (Interview 11)

Faith-based discourses of development   83 This MAN-­B staff member used the term integral development to provide a broad perspective on what it means to live a good life. The process of development was described as complex and multidimensional, involving improvement in material aspects and basic services and residing in a community marked by positive values and relations. Integral development and diakonia were key terms used at the formal and leadership level in both IELB and MAN-­B. IELB’s programme for development was called ‘Communitarian Integral Development – Diakonia in Action’ (IELB, 2008), and MAN-­B described their work as ‘Integral Development with a Diaconal Focus’ (MAN-­B, 2012). While ‘integral’ was an adjective describing a type of development, diakonia was presented as a focus and a philosophy put into action. Through a coupling of these concepts, IELB and MAN-­B pointed to integral development as a goal as well as a process. The process was ‘coded’ as faith-­based, through the use of the theological concept diakonia. Within theories of development there is no clear definition of integral development. Perspectives in IELB and MAN-­B fell within two main ways of understanding integral development theoretically. The first approach sees integral development as multisectoral and multidisciplinary and a response to the need to address several sectors in the communities at the same time. It is contrasted with NGOs that specialise in one field, for instance in education, in health or in agricultural production. The Integral Rural Development approach in the Andean context drew attention to the need for a multidisciplinary view on development in rural areas and addressed relations between different factors of development in a certain geographical area. For some development actors this has meant including more sectors in their own work, while for others it led to close coordination with different institutions working on different specialised fields (Bazoberry and Ruiz, 2010). The second understanding of integral development approaches religion as a potential part of people’s well-­being and as a possible resource in development work. For Christian actors, integral development is closely connected to integral mission. While integral mission emerged as a discourse that aimed to include the ‘earthly’ social action as part of mission, integral development includes the spiritual in the understanding of development. Ter Haar uses integral development to describe holistic approaches in which transformation is seen from the perspectives of both religion and development, where ‘these two fields merge’: From a religious perspective, the transformation of individuals, or inner transformation, is deemed a necessary condition for transforming society and the world as a whole. From a professional development perspective, on the other hand, it is primarily the external environment, or the arrangements made for the provision of material resources, that constitutes the site of transformation. (2011, p. 5) IELB and MAN-­B referred to both approaches to integral development in different situations. In MAN-­B’s Strategy Plan (2012) there was a definition of what integral development meant for them:

84   Faith-based discourses of development It’s the process of strengthening persons, families and communities, with a holistic focus considering the physical, emotional, cognitive, ecologic, aesthetic creative, intuitive, spiritual, political, economic, social, cultural and ethical solidarity, considering the relationship between the subjects and the environment, and the relationship to God through Jesus Christ. This definition is an example of an interpretation of integral development as processes where spiritual and material aspects are intertwined, shared by Christian development institutions globally (Deneulin, 2013, p.  58; ter Haar, 2011, pp.  3–26). MAN-­B’s focus was on relations, both between subjects, with the environment, as well as with God through Jesus Christ. One of the leaders spoke about different notions of development and highlighted the importance of including ‘soul, spirit and body’: There are Marxist and structural functionalist theories, a long line of theories about development. But I think that if we talk about development, we have to look at it as something integral, as soul, spirit and body. Humans do not only have basic needs that must be satisfied, such as hunger, nutrition, clothes, housing ... not only material questions, but also questions of human nature and spiritual questions. (Interview 17) Her colleague connected the integral approach to individuals’ faith, stating that ‘what distinguishes [MAN-­B] is that the development process is integral, in terms of the Christian commitment’ (Interview 19). This was representative for the institutional thinking and exposed an openness to a Christian spiritual dimension in development but overlooking other religions and spiritualities as potential resources. Even though the multisectoral approach underpinned the way MAN-­B worked, this was less explicitly drawn upon when speaking of integral development. While the Christian spiritual aspect was clearly stated in MAN-­B’s official communications, this dimension was not an explicit focus on a formal level in IELB. They lacked a definition of integral development but stated their goal as contributing to ‘integral participative development’ through projects called ‘integral development for the community’ and ‘the serving community’. The Strategy Plan (2008) presented projects of sanitation services, infrastructure, production support and health and education services as IELB’s contribution to integral development in communities, exposing a multisectoral approach. The project ‘A serving community’ included ‘spiritual and psychological accompaniment’, which in a subtle manner includes non-­material and spiritual dimensions (IELB, 2008). The reference to a spiritual dimension of development was not explicit in IELB, exemplified by the goal for the programme ‘Integral Participative Development – Diakonia in Action’: To improve the level of life of the inhabitants of the rural communities by providing sufficient life conditions that permit a reduction of poverty and

Faith-based discourses of development   85 diseases resulting from a lack of water, a lack of nutrition quality in the families, and the lack of incentives for women to use their capacity; through the communal implementation of water and sanitation systems, solar tents, water pumps, and capacity building in women’s rights and orientation [and] support for their artisanal abilities. (IELB, 2011) This could have been a goal for most development actors taking a multisectoral approach. In a conversation I had with the staff they clarified that they understand development against the backdrop of the integral Gospel and Jesus’s attention to spiritual as well as material and bodily needs. IELB might not need to make the spiritual dimension explicit in a church setting, assuming a shared underlying understanding. When omitting the spiritual dimension in their formal presentations of development projects, they could however open paths to secular supporters who are sceptical of traits of religion in development work. Religious and relational dimensions were interrelated in MAN-­B and IELB’s understandings of integral development. The MAN-­B staff member quoted at the beginning of this section explained her understanding of development as integral, including both access to basic services, and communities and persons marked by certain values and relations. She continued to reflect on what integral development is and presented how she talked about this in her daily work in the communities: I have always been told that the human being is a system. Since it is a system everything needs to function, that means that the one [part] depends on the other and the other way around. The human being must be fine in a physical way, fine in a psychological way, fine in a social way. What does that mean? With its surroundings, how one lives. And in the spiritual, right. I usually use this [image] of the person as a system, including in the courses I hold and tell them ‘we are a system, if one of these [parts] is bad, we feel bad’. And the persons understand and say ‘yes’. ‘Today I ask you how many of you have prayed to God today?’ I say to them, ‘or do we only remember when someone has a problem?’ ‘Oh, yes’, they say. ‘Only when we have problems, we remember God’, they say. But it is important, right, because it helps you to strengthen your spirit. I talk to them about so many things. ‘If we are bad at this, that’s why we have these problems’. ‘Yes’, they say. I work mostly with these four [the physical, psychological, social and spiritual]. (Interview 11) This quote visualises both the religious as well as the relational dimension and how these are connected. Relationships with others in the community as well as with God must be good and in balance, the facilitator argued. This expresses a holistic understanding, in which relations with the Christian spiritual invisible world is just as important for well-­being as the relations in the visible world

86   Faith-based discourses of development (ter Haar, 2011, pp. 10–15). The facilitator referred to how the relation with God needed to be treated as part of development work. It exemplifies how faith identity, her own as well as the institutional, had an impact on how she understood development as well as on her work in practice. Sharing faith was integrated in daily development practices and contact with communities and understood as a part of working for integral development. Contentions and negotiations involved in these practices are broadly discussed in the following chapters. The relational focus found in IELB and MAN-­B’s understanding of integral development drew on discourses of human development. One of the leaders in MAN-­B explicitly referred to Sen’s influential thinking and a rights-based approach: development is really the possibility of participating in decision making, the access to basic services for the most impoverished, but firstly the decision making, to express their opinion, to participate in public politics, in all that a country really needs. That is a right that they have, it’s a right, it’s not a favour that we do for them, it’s a right they have. And recognising that it really is a right is not easy, it’s not easy. The concept of development is close to the concept of Amartya Sen, you have probably read about him, who received a Nobel Prize for development and talks of developments of human capacities and possibilities. [That means] access to the right these groups have to a real development, which they have a right to. (Interview 17) This illustrates a view of relations that take into account improving people’s access to both basic services and decision-­making processes. IELB and MAN-­B approached development with the aim of creating good relations for subjective well-­being and contribute to objective well-­being by fulfilling people’s basic needs and rights to education, food, etc. (Deneulin, 2014, p. 12). The relational as well as the religious dimension of their institutional understandings of development were closely connected to their interpretation of the term diakonia. Diakonia was presented as a philosophy that provided the integral development work with distinct qualities as Christian practices.

Diakonia as ‘the Gospel in action’ The discourse of diakonia in IELB and MAN-­B drew on discourses of human and integral development as well as on theological interpretations of Church, mission and the Kingdom of God. Both institutions characterised their work as diakonia, frequently used as a substitute for ‘development’ and referring to diakonia as Christian social praxis. ‘It is action, it is the faith in action, it is the practice, the Gospel in concrete actions, in attitudes’, one MAN-­B leader expressed (Interview 17). Diakonia was described as the way to create good relations with and within communities, with nature and with God. At the leadership level in both institutions they explained diakonia as a difficult concept to understand and explain. One MAN-­B leader pinpointed a key

Faith-based discourses of development   87 question: ‘ “When I make a water tank for the community, where is then the diakonia?”, some ask. So, this is what we try to explain and settle somehow, to tell them what diakonia is, right’ (Interview 20). Others also focused on the importance of explaining to the community that the project was a gift from God. The essence that made a project diaconal, they argued, was explaining that MAN-­B and the project had reached the community because of God’s love. The staff therefore needed competence to present this from a faith perspective and act according to a ‘diaconal’ ethics of service and commitment. This required a theological language and was why the main tasks of the Diaconal office was to teach the staff about diakonia and integral mission. Diakonia as praxis was in IELB and MAN-­B considered development work with a qualitative and spiritual addition, an ‘added value’ distinguishing them from other development actors. For IELB it was related to their identity as a church. ‘When we define the mission, it is the proclamation of the Gospel and the service’, one of the leaders said. ‘So, for us diakonia is this service, right. This love that is translated into practice through our faith, through our identity, right. Because if not, well, I would become an NGO, right?’ (Interview 16). Diakonia was also in MAN-­B used to describe their distinctiveness and ‘added value’ in the process and quality of the projects: But the Mission has an added value. In all the work that one does, one does it with love, let’s say one does it with diakonia. One does it because one has a passion, a calling from the Lord, to serve others. One does it in terms of service with quality. If I make a school building it is a way to reach a goal that might be invisible, right. Because in the work one considers the participation of the community as very important. Without that we can’t do the work. We can’t do the work without the local contribution either. So, in these terms diakonia is giving the impulse so that the community also participates. Even if one is poor, one can contribute, one has to contribute, be it with local material or money, or one’s work or one’s words or one’s decisions or one’s ideas. We value this highly. So, this is the difference, because if not we would be the same as the municipality, as the other NGOs, and the people feel this, they feel the difference in for example the way we treat people, the attitudes of the facilitators of development. (Interview 17) The ‘added value’ of diakonia was not only, or mainly, to frame actions in religious words, but to be expressed through actions of service. At the operational level in IELB diakonia was presented as the collective action as church, transmitting God’s love through the social development projects: As a start, for us this project is called ‘Strengthening of women – Diakonia in action’. So, for us diakonia is the service of the church towards the peoples, in the communities. We also practice the commandment ‘love your neighbour like yourself ’. So, we as church transmit this love that we feel

88   Faith-based discourses of development towards our Lord. So that is what we transmit, and we also think this in relation to helping the sisters economically. (Interview 7) Diakonia was described actions of service towards the communities, in this case through helping the ‘sisters’1 in their difficult economic situation. A colleague in IELB described diakonia as the church’s ‘help with the projects, such as basic services. So, the church always works with let’s say the remote communities, although also with others’ (Interview 8). On several occasions working with ‘remote’ communities, at far distance from the city of La Paz and difficult to access, was presented to me as a strategic choice. The aim was to reach the excluded and those who need it the most, in places where no one else goes. It showed the commitment of the church and the staff, who sacrificed time and effort while enduring long uncomfortable travels, even by foot. Framing their efforts with a religious meaning, acting on behalf of the church and spreading God’s love, can be strong motivational factors for staff. For IELB it costed more money and time to reach these communities, and the personal and institutional sacrifices were presented as part of what it meant to provide service as IELB. Their strategy can be interpreted in line with the global development discourse of ‘leaving no one behind’, as currently expressed in the SDGs, or theological ideas of siding with the poor. It must however also be looked at in connection with IELB’s strategy to expand and establish Lutheran churches in new areas, an integrated part of their mission as a church. When communities are introduced to IELB’s development projects, they are exposed to the values of faith that are constitutive parts of them. The dilemma if attempting to avoid such a mix of objectives, is that churches might be the only actors motivated and willing to reach remote communities. They fill a gap that might otherwise remain open. Diakonia as service was also a dominant understanding at the operational level in MAN-­B. When asked about his understanding of the term, one of the facilitators responded: Like I said in the beginning, we could present a lot of concepts, but it is simply to serve, like Jesus, right. It is to follow his example. There is no recipe I believe, that says one should really do it like this, and if you do not do it like this you are not, you are not doing diakonia, right. Only God knows. But I also think that when we see this in the communities, the reality in the communities, for me diakonia is to serve. Really serve with love, with vocation, without discriminating, without considering your own time. You give yourself over to the people, this is when it is like you are transformed, you give it all, you really do it all. I believe that it is this, I believe it is this, love and service. (Interview 9) He emotionally expressed a profound commitment to the work describing service as following the model of Jesus and to ‘give it all’ as a response to the

Faith-based discourses of development   89 reality of the communities. For him, discussing diakonia was of limited interest, and he focused on his personal call or motivation to ‘serve with love’. This was however a commitment and a way of living and working that also transformed himself, he stated. Creating good reciprocal relations was an objective to be reached through ‘love and service’. While the staff in IELB presented service as collective practices or actions done on behalf of the church, the focus in MAN-­B was concerned with individual spirituality. It was particularly clear among the leadership and formulated in the Strategy Plan’s focus on diaconal ministry and diaconal ethics: The development of a diaconal ethics is one of the central elements in the institutional practice of MAN-­B, which seeks the development of this ethics in the communities associated with MAN-­B, in the local churches and in the institution’s staff. That means strengthening of a worldview, values and principles according to a spirituality of service, giving of oneself, and commitment with others. (MAN-­B, 2012) This ethics that should mark everyone in the institution was also the basis for how the operational staff was to work, as facilitators and not as external experts. ‘Diaconal facilitation’ was presented as starting from the belief that the communities can be the ones in charge of their own development. This drew on concepts of participation and empowerment that are central in the human development discourse. Diaconal ethics was dependent on individuals’ spirituality, which should be based on ‘an intimate relation with Christ and following his diaconal ministry’ (MAN-­B, 2012). Personal spirituality was presented as the basis for and the first step towards an institutional diaconal ethics, in line with the focus on individual ‘evangelical identity’ that dominated MAN-­B. The source and focus of diaconal practices were in MAN-­B found within the individual person and were not linked to churches or institutional aspects. The concepts integral development and diakonia were in MAN-­B and IELB combined in ways that made their institutional discourses distinct and exposed particular theological interpretations. They drew on and negotiated between global discourses of development as well as theology, while situated within the political, social and cultural contexts of the Bolivian Andes. The crossroads of influences and discourses where IELB and MAN-­B were placed also met with what Escobar names ‘subjugated’ discourses ([1984) 2010a, 2010b). When asked about IELB’s understanding of development, one of the leaders responded: Today there is a rereading of what the concept of development is. It’s debated in Bolivia, in the church, in the communities. Today our discussion is related to a debate in the country: Where is development heading to? What is development? Many times, the concept of development has been linked to bringing people to modernity or civilisation, and I think this is

90   Faith-based discourses of development being questioned in Bolivia. And I think not only in Bolivia, but also in other countries like Ecuador, in Latin America. (Interview 14) An awareness of this fundamental questioning of the concept of development was also present in MAN-­B. One of the leaders talked about the Bolivian government’s understanding of development as a contrast to Western development: Now this concept of development, with the current government, has changed a lot. For the government development it is not Western development, but they say: What model of development are we going to follow? The one of the developed countries or do we already have a model that we have never recognised, which is the one of the original communities and ethnic groups, which puts a different value on things, on the environment, on the solidarity between the peoples, the cultural practices? For them this is another model of development that needs to be recognised as a different model. (Interview 17) The ‘other model’ is based on the philosophy of the indigenous population and their way of living. The leader valued this suma qamaña ‘model’, based on solidarity and respect for nature. ‘They’ see it as a different model of development, she explained, without stating if she agreed or not. The pronoun she used, ‘they’, referred to both the government as well as the indigenous communities. Suma qamaña was not only seen as a political discourse, but also as a philosophy of indigenous communities. Both of these aspects were fundamental parts of the complex negotiation processes in IELB and MAN-­B.

Recontextualisation of suma qamaña We talk a lot about suma qamaña, but more than vivir bien we speak about living a life in plenitude. It might be that we lack some things, but our relations are good. First is the relation with God, social relations, internal relations in the family, relations in the community. While our relations are in order, we will be well. So, I think that suma qamaña is more, for us it is more integral, more.... Let’s say we add another aspect to suma qamaña. (Interview 18) This quote from a staff member in MAN-­B points to several aspects of his relation to the term and philosophy of suma qamaña. He confirmed that the term was familiar, identified with it and framed it with an implicit reference to the Bible (life in plenitude). The main focus of suma qamaña was presented as living in good relationships at various levels, and he argued that MAN-­B’s Christian understanding made the discourse more integral. I explore how ideas of suma qamaña were recontextualised in IELB and MAN-­B, by discussing its usage and understandings.2 Negotiation processes exposed tensions related to the

Faith-based discourses of development   91 spiritual dimension and the strong drive towards harmony and avoiding conflicts. The response from the staff member above illustrates the complexity of the development field in terms of theoretical perspectives and exemplify someone who mediates different discourses. In IELB and MAN-­B suma qamaña does not only encounter other development discourses but is negotiated in light of their faith-­based identity. Neither of the institutions used suma qamaña in formal documents, but the term vivir bien appeared once in MAN-­B’s Strategy Plan (2012). Vivir bien was combined with human development as a basis for the term ‘life quality’, understood as ‘the articulation of the perspective of human development and the “Vivir Bien” of persons, families and communities’ (MAN-­B, 2012). The explanation that followed was taken directly from the national development plan of Bolivia. Interculturality and cultural identity were emphasised and pointed to equality in mutual relations between people, groups and nature. People’s basic needs were to be fulfilled, which included non-­material aspects such as the need for affection, recognition and social acceptance. Harmony in relations with nature and fellow humans was presented as the basis for fulfilling material, affective, subjective, intellectual and spiritual needs (Ministerio de Planificación del Desarrollo, 2006). The inclusion of the political discourse of vivir bien shows MAN-­B’s loyalty to and negotiation with the government’s development plan. The adopted points from the national development plan, without references to it, were framed under their primary concept ‘life quality’. The Aymara term suma qamaña was not mentioned. Even though neither MAN-­B nor IELB used the suma qamaña discourse in institutional documents, all the leaders spoke about it as a natural theme. I observed how several of them used the terminology in public and institutional settings, such as in a meeting in MAN-­B discussing their projects. In a presentation, one of the leaders used slides which visualised different levels of goals for the projects. The highest level of objectives read ‘Mejorar condiciones de vida [Create better life conditions] (VIVIR BIEN – Suma q’amaña)’. Suma qamaña and aligned words referring to the indigenous philosophy were incorporated in MAN-­B without being commented on or discussed. The same was found in IELB, where particularly the Church president used suma qamaña in internal and external meetings and stated that he talked about it in churches. There was a clear discrepancy between the way staff at all levels used the suma qamaña and the absence of it in written formal documents. One leader in MAN-­B argued that their own term ‘life quality’ makes for a better concept than suma qamaña: In this case we manage ‘quality of life’ and the state manages vivir bien. But the variables that we have internally in MAN-­B are in line with what is vivir bien. Only that maybe sometimes it’s not suma qamaña or the vivir bien, but it’s ‘quality of life’ for us in MAN-­B. So, we can say that for us it is maybe a little bit improved, if one can say it like that [he laughs]. That is how I understand it, as improved, and that the government’s term is more

92   Faith-based discourses of development easily understood by the persons that are more, let’s say indigenous, I mean the vivir bien. (Interview 19) In IELB they explained the lack of references to suma qamaña in official documents with an ongoing internal debate about its meaning. If leaders had imposed this language in formal documents it could be met with protest among church members, one of them expressed: ‘If you recognise this [suma qamaña], you are going to recognise Pachamama, and Pachamana is another deity’ (Interview 14). This leader was tempted to use the terminology and argued that the discourse of suma qamaña was better than speaking of ‘development’ in dialogue with communities. The MAN-­B staff member quoted above also pointed to this communicative aspect, but in a more patronising manner stating that the suma qamaña discourse is ‘more easily understood by the persons that are more, let’s say indigenous’ (Interview 19). The discourse was considered a good communication strategy in both MAN-­B and IELB, even if one personally might not share the understanding of the suma qamaña philosophy. In the communities, people argued for their needs based on the change in the political terminology: We now have the concept of suma qamaña, suma kawsay in Quechua, in Aymara, which is that the persons can live well. So, when they say to us ‘brother, I want us to construct drinking water and latrines so that we can live well, right’. ‘We are changing now, right, so we should live better’, they say. ‘Now we should prioritise other things, we have to prioritise this’, they say. (Interview 14) Hence, the language of suma qamaña was considered a good communication strategy in the communities, but was still not an integrated part of IELB and MAN-­B at an institutional level. Several in MAN-­B confirmed that the discourse had not been debated institutionally, but was a constant theme in the operational work: But you do that [use the suma qamaña philosophy] more at operational level or also ... is there also much discussion about using these terms and the philosophy here in the central office for example? Are there differences? Interviewee:  Well, we haven’t talked about this theme at the institutional level, no [laughs]. Yes, no. But it is a debate at the team level. It’s a debate because now all the local organisations are talking about suma qamaña. So, we have to get involved in this theme, right. So now, what focus do we approach it with? We should analyse this internally, let’s say, first as a team and biblically explain what suma qamaña is. He, he, right. So, as I told you, this is what the new [word missing] introduces, the vida plena [fullness of life]. That we are not only occupied with life, that’s this earthly life, as we ARNHILD: 

Faith-based discourses of development   93 say. That’s not our only preoccupation, but we should also be preoccupied with the life that is beyond that. (Interview 18) This interviewee raised the need for an institutional analysis based on their faith identity. The transcendent dimension of MAN-­B’s work should be included in their interpretation of suma qamaña. Such discussions lacked an institutional focus and were left to individuals’ negotiations involving dimensions of religious beliefs and cultural identities.

Suma qamaña and faith identity Well, suma qamaña is part of this cultural and ideological revaluing that the peoples today have as a road to development. And it also has to do with a theological reading, because they are thinking about life, right. So as church we are standing in the tension of constructing our Lutheran identity starting from our own cultural context, how do we do that? There have been many debates. Today the debate is open. I think that we have to construct our Lutheranism from who we are, and I think that suma qamaña helps us think about what social development is. So, I do not think it is contradictory [to our understanding of social development], on the contrary I think it gives nutrition to our work. (Interview 14) This IELB leader’s reflection is illustrative to how relations and loyalties in different directions are negotiated in both institutions, involving their evangelical or Lutheran faith identities, the Bolivian government and Andean communities. A leader in MAN-­B described the search for ‘encounters of unity where it is possible to work together, also with the government’ and how he considered the Bible and the focus of the government as related. ‘Suma qamaña is vivir bien. In the Bible there is talk about plenitude of life and Jesus says that he has come to give life in abundance. So, I think that in this sense there is a relationship’ (Interview 20). None of the leaders in IELB and MAN-­B presented suma qamaña as contradictory to their biblical foundation and Christian identity. They all focused on how it coincided with the biblical message, as expressed by one of the leaders in MAN-­B: The concept of suma qamaña, living well. I think that the Mission [MAN-­B] has done [things according to] this concept for years [she laughs]. Every NGO has the obligation of promoting the government’s policies. But what happens here? There is a coincidence between suma qamaña and what the Bible says. The Bible speaks about life in plenitude, which for me is more than suma qamaña. I think that we do not have differences, on the contrary we coincide with suma qamaña, vivir bien. But the Mission has an aggregated value in the spiritual part, the diaconal part. (Interview 17)

94   Faith-based discourses of development She harmonised the relationship between suma qamaña and a biblical understanding of development as being about the same issues and values. The Christian concept of life in plenitude was however placed ‘above’, and included more, than suma qamaña. Her colleague expressed a similar way of mediating Christian faith and suma qamaña, by framing it all as the works of God. ‘They’, he said, had however not yet understood how everything was connected to God. ‘They’ still believe in Pachamama and practise rituals that he did not consider to be Christian practice. There were thus aspects within the practices that by him and others were seen as contrary to the Bible’s teaching and condemned. He exposed underlying tensions connected to spiritual and religious aspects of the suma qamaña discourse. There was a contradiction found in how staff in IELB and MAN-­B related to suma qamaña. On some occasions a spiritual dimension was presented as a part of the philosophy, while on others the religious aspect was either excluded or presented as added by MAN-­B and IELB. As explained in Chapter 3, the philosophy of suma qamaña as lived and practised in the communities contains a spiritual dimension. Suma qamaña neither excludes nor depends on a Christian spirituality. How Christians and churches relate to Andean indigenous spirituality and practices is a theme with considerable tensions. The most common way staff in MAN-­B and IELB addressed this when I talked to them was to consider suma qamaña according to a material understanding, in line with the dominant political discourse. As such a Christian spirituality came as an addition and was the main or only spiritual dimension. One of them however also recognised that this material understanding is based on a misunderstanding: The philosophy isn’t being understood. Suma qamaña is also a complex philosophy. Suma qamaña also speaks of the spiritual, because it speaks about relations and it also speaks about the respect for nature and also relations between us, right. It also speaks about this, but many people have not understood it like that. They think that suma qamaña speaks of that I should have water, I should have health services, education. It is still materialistic. And many organisations contribute to this [understanding], right. Even the state itself contributes to this. The NGOs continue with this philosophy, they are not much interested in let’s say the spiritual part or in relations, these themes, no. (Interview 18) A material understanding of suma qamaña is a probable reason why staff did not find any contradictions with their own faith identity. The staff that I spoke with expressed a ‘private’ reinterpretation of suma qamaña that fitted with their faith identity and did not find any need to include an indigenous spiritual dimension. They embraced the suma qamaña terminology based on their own interpretations or on a purely material understanding of the discourse. In a follow-­up meeting with IELB in 2013 I used the word ‘spiritually’. This created a short, but interesting discussion between two of the leaders, illustrating

Faith-based discourses of development   95 how the term is used and understood quite differently. When I mentioned the use of ‘spirituality’ by other institutions, one of the leaders commented that for him in IELB theology was the most important because spirituality opened for plurality. He said that for IELB there is only one God, and he understood spirituality as indigenous religious practices he considered to address several ‘gods’. One of the other leaders immediately responded pointing to how the concept of spirituality can be understood in different ways, also referring to a Lutheran spirituality. The spirituality of the Aymara culture can point to the values, and not only or primarily the rituals, he argued, and these spiritual values could be shared. This is a clear example of how the term ‘spiritual’ can be understood as referring to either a ‘Christian’ spirituality, an ‘indigenous’ spirituality, or both. The resistance of some IELB members towards the use of suma qamaña was based on a fear of embracing Andean spiritual practices and ‘gods’ that they considered contrary to their faith. An understanding of suma qamaña as a whole ‘package’ of community practices and beliefs occasionally also led to staff rejecting the use of the terminology of suma qamaña: I speak to them like this, right: ‘God does not want us to be poor, to be [word missing], sick, he does not want that. God loves us so, he is our father, and what kind of father wants his kids to live poorly?’ So I don’t speak with the terms you present, the suma qamaña. No. Now, the current government for example also speaks of suma qamaña, vivir bien, but they do not take in the spiritual part. The spiritual is another part, but the government even talks about decolonisation now, that Jesus, Jehova are gods that the Spanish brought with them. So now in this part they say one should recuperate their gods, let’s say Pachamama, the achachilas, all this. (Interview 11) This operative staff in MAN-­B exposed the complex networks in which both she and the discourse of suma qamaña were situated and which led her to a series of contradicting statements. By applying the material understanding she said that the development pillars of the government are to a large extent the same as in MAN-­B. In a first step she accused the government of excluding the spiritual dimension, but then she referred to a dual understanding pointing to ‘other gods’ of the Andean indigenous tradition. The revitalisation of indigenous spiritual traditions, she argued, had created a resistance towards evangelical churches in some communities. The discussions of suma qamaña in IELB and MAN-­B were marked by ongoing processes of recontextualisation of the discourse. Recontextualisation can be understood as taking the form of colonisation, but such processes also involve appropriation. Organisations can be colonised by external discourses and more or less actively appropriate them within their own discourses (Fairclough, 2010, p.��������������������������������������������������������������������  ������������������������������������������������������������������� 369). In MAN-­B and IELB there was an emerging process of appropriation of the discourse of suma qamaña, as they tended to harmonise it with their

96   Faith-based discourses of development faith-­based understandings of development. Tensions were revealed when suma qamaña was understood as including a spiritual dimension or practices. Both institutions recognised the need to reflect further on suma qamaña from their own position, not least theologically.

Power dynamics of faith-­based discourses The discourses at play in IELB and MAN-­B are part of a complex web of power relations, including resistance, negotiations and shifting roles. Relations of power can theoretically be approached as exercised between a ‘principal’ and a ‘subaltern’ (Scott, 2001, pp. 2–3). MAN-­B and IELB as institutions hold the role of ‘principals’ in many situations and ‘subalterns’ in others, and these concepts are also useful analytical tools to address external influences. Different external ‘principals’, with potential impact on institutional strategies and actions, are identified among their networks at both international, national and local levels. The influence of Latin Amer­ican theological discourses was obvious in both institutions, as discussed in Chapter 5. Integral mission was in IELB highlighted as a contextually appropriate discourse due to its origin in Latin America. They presented it as a more suitable one than diakonia, despite the extensive use of diakonia in their international ecumenical network. In MAN-­B, on the other hand, they adopted integral mission and diakonia as a pair. The discourse of ­diakonia in IELB and MAN-­B emerged as a result of influence from the international network, with little or no recontextualisation in the Andean reality. In MAN-­B the process was marked by ‘colonisation’, in which the discourse of the Norwegian partners had been imported without any visible attempt to critically discuss it in context (Fairclough, 2014, p. 12). The view of diakonia as humble service was part of the tradition and background of the first Norwegian missionaries in MAN-­B from 1978 onwards. Diakonia was a keyword and many of the missionaries were trained as deacons and part of the Norwegian missionary movement. The funder of MAN-­B, the NMA, defines itself as a ‘diaconal mission organisation’ and has actively promoted the use of the term. All the documents in use were provided by them,3 and MAN-­B’s formal definition was directly translated and adopted from the Plan for Diakonia of the Church of Norway (2010). There was no discussion in MAN-­B from the perspective of their own context, but rather a view that they needed to teach people the ‘right’ understanding of diakonia. This ‘right’ understanding was based on resources coming from Norwegian partners. In IELB they included diakonia in their formal structures and documents but showed resistance to it as the term did not function well in dialogue with the Andean communities. Leaders explained the emergence pointing to the LWF, one of the leading institutions in the global ecumenical discussion on diakonia in recent decades. Based on several regional consultations among Lutheran churches, also in Latin America, the document Diakonia in Context (Nordstokke, 2009) was written and spread globally. Lutheran churches in Latin America have also worked with the concept apart from this consultation process and IELB

Faith-based discourses of development   97 leaders participated in regional gatherings discussing diakonia (Helgesen, 2012). The concept was used in IELB’s communication with external partners and in the main office in La Paz but was not considered an adequate contextual language for the Andean communities or local churches. It was too complex, this leader argued: So, where the projects of diakonia has the highest presence now is in the rural areas. So maybe the term diakonia, I think it is Greek, right, is not understood easily. Maybe because of the language or cultural barrier, so one has to find other ways to understand diakonia. In Spanish it is understood as social development, right. So, there is a bit of, I wouldn’t say confusion, but there it’s a bit of ... it is not very clear, it is a bit blurry. That’s diakonia, right. (Interview 14) They used diakonia as the formal name for the social development projects, while preferring terms such as ‘service’, ‘social development’ or ‘integral mission’ in communication with communities and congregations. Because of the use of diakonia in LWF, one of the leaders said, they had begun to introduce the term more broadly in the church, but then with ‘service’ in parenthesis or vice versa (Interview 16). The influence of global and regional partners in the ecumenical network is clear, even if they are not ‘absorbed’ in IELB’s daily life. Institutional discourses do not only expose the impact of external actors but must also be approached as strategic tools applied by MAN-­B and IELB to influence the actions of others. Both institutions used the discourse of diakonia when they considered it to be of strategic interest to their goals or relationships. While suma qamaña was an unofficial communication strategy in the encounters with community representatives, the language of diakonia was important for MAN-­B in the dialogue with local churches. The aim was to teach the churches about diakonia and integral mission in order to inspire actions in society. IELB and MAN-­B can therefore not be considered as passive ‘recipients’ of the discourse of diakonia, but also as strategic users of it to promote theological and professional discussions. They included the language in plans, applications and reports, accommodated to the ‘way of speaking’ in their international network. The ever shifting and complex dynamics of power must not be ignored by locking actors into a restrictive pattern of passive or protesting ‘subordinates’ and active and repressive ‘principals’ (Scott, 2001, pp. 1–5). Addressing the negotiating powers of all actors, independently of their formal positions, is fundamental to understanding any development cooperation. The same international actors that influence IELB and MAN-­B in theology also influence their development theory and strategy. MAN-­B received guidelines and report requests from NMA, situated in the Norwegian development sector. IELB did the same from LWF and other international partners. The human development approach is mainstream in international development cooperation, with an openness to religion and spirituality that has carved out

98   Faith-based discourses of development more space for faith-­based institutions and their distinctiveness. The Norwegian network of MAN-­B as well as the international partners of IELB, operated within these discourses of human and integral development. At a national level, IELB and MAN-­B were influenced by the suma qamaña discourse. The alignment with the government’s concept vivir bien was more obvious in MAN-­B, probably due to more coordination and control, and its being an NGO with extensive work in terms of money and projects.4 As a national church providing what is often considered ‘service delivery’, IELB was less exposed to such control. The community level also influenced the institutional discourses in IELB and MAN-­B, particularly clear when it came to suma qamaña. The discourse was in use as a result of the communities’ communication, its value was recognised, and many of the staff wished for further inclusion of it on an institutional level. The communities’ influence on theological discourses was not particularly clear, even though local congregations in IELB in theory should be considerable contributors through the formal structures of the church. In MAN-­B the local congregations were not presented as sources of theological reflection, but rather as in need of being taught integral mission and diakonia. In both institutions, individual pastors exercised influence, such as those invited to preach in weekly devotions. In addition, local churches had an indirect, but still important, influence through the church affiliations of the individual staff. In IELB such individual influence was subjugated to a governing structure where doctrines, institutional theological positions and the strong voice of the Church president limited the expression of heterogeneous interpretations. The lack of formal theological positions in MAN-­B provided a broader space for individuals to mark the institution with their own theological opinions.

Negotiating discourses of faith and development This chapter has explored negotiations of different perspectives on development, such as human development and suma qamaña, in relation to religious discourses. Both human development and suma qamaña figured as discourses that the institutions drew on, but they integrated them through a negotiation process with their faith identity. Points of agreement were directly adopted into the institutional discourses through emphasising commonalities and constructing harmonic relations. Difficult questions were negotiated out of the debate at a discursive level, most obviously when the suma qamaña discourse was framed as non-­religious. MAN-­B and IELB focused on the relational and religious dimension as fundamental in integral development. In all the theological and development discourses that IELB and MAN-­B drew on, there was an openness to or inclusion of relations with other human beings, the spiritual world and nature as part of an integral perspective and important for ‘well-­being’. In the human development approach relations are fundamental for life quality, subjective well-­being and creation of a welfare system. The approach also opens up the possibility that

Faith-based discourses of development   99 people themselves may identify religion and spirituality as part of well-­being through ‘shaping people’s moral values and what they see as desirable and worthy of pursuit’ (Deneulin and Bano, 2009, p. 8). Opening up to religion also has an impact on how relations are approached, which becomes clear in the discourse on integral development. Relations are not only between humans, but also with the spiritual world and nature. In MAN-­B and IELB the relation to God through faith in Christ was a fundamental aspect of living a good life. This was expressed in their understanding of integral development and supported by their theological reflections on the role of the Church, their mission and the Kingdom of God. In their theological perspective, relations are destroyed through sin, and redemption is needed to restore relations both with God, with fellow humans and with nature, God’s creation. The theological and development objectives are integrated in the faith-­based discourses of MAN-­B and IELB, resulting in processes where religious and development goals are often inseparable. Relations are also fundamental in the discourse of suma qamaña, which refers to the same three dimensions of the spiritual, fellow human beings and nature. In MAN-­B and IELB many presented it as a discourse that contested the mainstream Western conception of development. At the same time, it was put into dialogue with the understandings of development in IELB and MAN-­B and considered as compatible with their faith-­based understanding of integral development. This exposes how religious and development discourses, from the local, national and international levels, were negotiated through processes of adaption, resistance, incorporation and rejection, ending up in distinctive institutional discourses placed in the specific context of the Bolivian Andes during the ‘Bolivian change process’. A central aspect of institutional discourses is ‘how and subject to what conditions discourses are operationalized as strategies and implemented’ (Fairclough, 2010, p. 29). The following chapter will explore how the processes of negotiating religion and development become even more complex in daily operational practices.

Notes 1 Hermano (brother) and hermana (sister) are used as appreciative terms in Andean communities as well as within congregations with reference to a communion of believers. 2 ‘Recontextualisation identifies the (“recontextualising”) principles according to which “external” discourses (and practices) are internalised within particular organisations’ (Fairclough, 2010, p. 368). 3 NMA supported printing of the book by Nordstokke (1998) and a booklet made and printed by MAN-­B themselves (2006). 4 There have been several controversies between NGOs and the Morales government in recent years, based on the government’s wish to get an overview and/or control more of the work of NGOs. A new law on NGOs has restricted the activities of several well-­ known NGOs in Bolivia, and the formal requirements to be acknowledged by the state have become stricter. In 2015, the media identified MAN-­B as one of the ‘suspicious’ NGOs that had not complied with the government’s demands.

100   Faith-based discourses of development

References Bazoberry C. Ó. and Ruiz, C. B. (2010). ¿Que esperar de las ONG? Enfoques y prácticas de desarrollo rural en los países andinos. La Paz: EED [Servicio de las Iglesias Evangélicas en Alemania para el Desarrollo]. Church of Norway (2010). Plan for diakonia. 2007. Retrieved from https://kirken.no/ globalassets/kirken.no/om-­k irken/slik-­s tyres-kirken/planer-­v isjonsdokument-og-­ strategier/plan_diakoni_2010_english.pdf Deneulin, S. (2013). Christianity and International Development. In Clarke. M. (ed.), Handbook of Research on Development and Religion (pp.��������������������������  ������������������������� 51–65). Cheltenham/Northampton, MA: Edward Elgar. Deneulin, S. (2014). Wellbeing, Justice and Development Ethics. Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Deneulin, S. and Bano, M. (2009). Religion in Development: Rewriting the Secular Script. London: Zed Books. Escobar, A. ([1984] 2010a). Discourse and Power in Development: Michel Foucault and the Relevance of His Work to the Third World. In International Development, edited by Sage (pp. 175–94). London: Sage. Escobar, A. (2010b). Latin America at a Crossroads. Cultural Studies 24(1), 1–65. http:// dx.doi.org/10.1080/09502380903424208 Fairclough, N. (2010). Critical Discourse Analysis: The Critical Study of Language. Harlow: Longman. Fairclough, N. (2014). Critical Discourse Analysis. In Gee, J. P. and Handford, M. (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Discourse Analysis (pp.  9–20). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Helgesen, A. (2012). Profetisk diakoni: Stemmer frå Latin-­Amerika [Prophetic diakonia: Voices from Latin America]. Norwegian Journal of Missiology 66(2), 111–26. IELB (2008). Plan estratégica Iglesia Evangélica Luterana Boliviana 2009–2020 [unpublished]. La Paz: IELB. IELB (2011). Plan operativo anual (POA) Gestión 2012: Diaconía en acción [unpublished]. La Paz: IELB. MAN-­B (2006). La diaconía. Obras de la fe. Servicio. La Paz: MAN-­B. MAN-­B (2012). Plan estratégica Misión Alianza de Noruega en Bolivia 2013–17 [unpublished]. La Paz: MAN-­B.  Ministerio de Planificación del Desarrollo (2006). Plan nacional de desarrollo: Bolivia digna, soberana, productiva y democrática para Vivir Bien. 2006–2010. La Paz. Nordstokke, K. (1998). Diaconía. Fe y servicio en un mundo que sufre. La Paz: Editorial Lámpara. Nordstokke, K. (ed.) (2009). Diakonia in Context: Transformation, Reconciliation, Empowerment: An LWF Contribution to the Understanding and Practice of Diakonia. Geneva: Lutheran World Federation. Scott, J. (2001). Power. Cambridge: Polity. ter Haar, G. (2011). Religion and Development: Introducing a New Debate. In ter Haar, G. (ed.), Religion and Development: Ways of Transforming the World (pp.  3–26). London: Hurst.

7 Practising integral development

Introduction Institutional faith-­based discourses of development, written or established in ways of speaking, aim at leading and influencing practices. The processes of operationalisation are however unpredictable and complex and depend on individuals’ interpretation and negotiation.1 The operative staff in IELB and MAN-­B were mediators positioned in between institutional faith-­based discourses on one side and the Andean communities on the other. They formed part of and influenced the institutions but were also closely related with the communities. Such position presents a range of possibilities and challenges, where power is exercised by them as well as on them. In encounters with specific people in particular places, and at certain moments in time, the operationalisation of the discourses has a number of possible outcomes. One of the staff members in MAN-­B reflected on how institutional strategies can move from statements, to internalised convictions and to committed practices: The focus of the institution [MAN-­B] is stated exactly from the perspective of service, from the things like our philosophy, our vision, our institutional values state it, right. Beyond stating it, I think at least here in the area, we really have the conviction of all this. There is a vocation to serve, there is a vocation, even though sometimes in some ways we can’t express it theoretically. We can’t express conceptually what it [diakonia] is, but in practice, in practice it is an action made like that. That our work is concentrated not only on constructions, in giving physical things, material things, but that it consists of giving our time with our patience to listen, to understand the situation that the families go through. And listen to their dreams, their visions, their hopes, and work together with them. Walk together with them. (Interview 9) He exposed how institutional discourses can be enacted as ways of acting and interacting with the families in the communities. The process of ‘walking with them’ was closely linked to operationalising faith-­based discourses as ‘ways of

102   Practising integral development being’ expressing their identities as staff in IELB and MAN-­B (Fairclough, 2014, p.  12). Physical materialisations, ‘constructions’, were presented as secondary to the process of development. This chapter explores how individuals negotiate different institutional discourses in daily practices and encounters with community members, and tensions that arise from these.

A visit to the communities of Cheje and Aguas Blancas When arriving in Cheje we first made a stop where they worked on the water tank for the watering system, just at the entrance of the community. On the other side of the small sandy road was the Lutheran church, which seemed quite old and not too well taken care of. There were several men working on the tank itself, maybe five. Three women, one of them seemed to be at least 60 years old, went up and down a small hillside bringing rocks to the construction site. In a small room by the road the cement and other materials for the construction was kept. One of the MAN-­B staff took a look in there and told me that the control of the material on behalf of the community’s own project committee is very strict. He doesn’t have to do much on behalf of MAN-­B, and the management is all left to the community. My own observations from Cheje touch on several key aspects of integral development projects in both MAN-­B and IELB. The institutions were providers of mainstream material projects, such as water tanks and health facilities. Both emphasised inclusion and participation across gender and generational lines and the communities’ involvement in doing the work. The aim was to build mutual trust, and the community of Cheje was an exceptional case in that sense. They had worked with MAN-­B for many years and had established close relations. Local churches’ position in the communities could be a resource for IELB and MAN-­B, but also lead to tensions. To discuss these faith-­based practices, I will first introduce the communities of Cheje and Aguas Blancas. Cheje is a small community located in the municipality of Sorata, in the valleys of the Andes, about three hours’ drive from the capital La Paz.2 Situated in a valley stretching from around 2,500 to 3,000 metres above sea level, it is one of many small communities scattered around in the hillsides, inhabited by people who identify themselves as belonging to the Aymara indigenous group. As in most of the surrounding rural areas in the highlands, Aymara is spoken, as well as Spanish. Some elderly speak only Aymara, while many children have more knowledge of Spanish than Aymara. In addition to the language, indigenous traditions and practices are important, including social organisation and spiritual practices. The communities in Sorata struggled with a series of difficulties, such as lack of access to water, remote education and health services, and narrow and steep roads that have pedestrian-­only access. Inhabitants live mainly off agriculture, which is hard due to a lack of water, of transportation to the markets and of investments and technology for cultivation. The tradition of dividing the territory

Practising integral development   103 between the children when parents die has resulted in small pieces of land difficult to live off. Many choose to migrate to the cities or other regions in search of work. MAN-­B had projects in Cheje for years, and the community managed to turn the migration trend. When I visited in 2012, they had a school in the centre of the community, in addition to agricultural projects, water tanks and solar tents. Cheje also has a Lutheran church at the entrance of the community, and I was told that the community members were either Lutheran or Catholic. Aguas Blancas is also a small community, located about ten hours’ drive (360 km) north of La Paz, passing approximately 5,000 metres above sea level on muddy and steep roads. It is located close to the Peruvian border, in an area inhabited by people who identify as belonging to the Quechua or Aymara indigenous groups. The population of the region speaks the Quechua/Aymara language as well as Spanish. Indigenous traditions and practices are important for daily life and social organisation in the community. Traditionally Aguas Blancas has been a community that survived off agriculture and suffered from similar difficulties as in Cheje. The distance from the city and the possibilities of transport make access to markets even more complicated. Since Aguas Blancas is further away from the centres, public services are less present. In recent years there had been an expansive growth in the mining industry in the area around Aguas Blancas, and when I visited nearly every man in the community worked in the gold mine. This created other additional difficulties. It led to higher income, but also more environmental damage and social problems connected with alcohol consumption. In Aguas Blancas, IELB had projects with women’s handicraft, solar tents and latrines. There was a Lutheran church in the community, and it was the only church building there. The material projects of MAN-­B and IELB in Cheje and Aguas Blancas were mainstream and traditional elements in human development. In the case of IELB the material elements consisted of resources for the women to use for handicraft, the building of solar tents to increase food production, and the construction of latrines and water systems to improve health conditions. MAN-­B had a wider range of projects, but the tangible results of their impact in a community was also in their case solar tents, latrines, drinking water, water systems for agriculture, equipment for women’s handicraft, health stations and school buildings. More ‘things’ could be mentioned. These ‘products’ illustrate a materialisation of integral development with a multisectoral approach, combining projects that aim at income generation, improvements in access to and quality of food, and strengthened health through clean water and toilets. In their materialised form, the projects had no distinct character as ‘faith-­based’. What makes a latrine ‘diaconal’? The measurable, tangible and observable material results are the same as for any secular development project. Material results played a key role in MAN-­B and IELB, and community members presented constructions as the primary reason for working with them. Several staff claimed that the quality of these tangible results was better than in other institutions. The perceived quality and end result of a project was linked with the process, which IELB and MAN-­B considered as the most important in integral

104   Practising integral development development work. A community representative from Cheje presented what had changed in the community with the entrance of MAN-­B. After listing projects that contribute to economic development (cultivation and sale of flowers) and increased food security (irrigation systems), he pointed to a different type of result: ‘And on the other hand the people are also more united, right’ (Interview 3). The distinctiveness in operationalisation of the faith-­based discourses were found in processes of development, not the ‘cement things’ (DeTemple, 2012). This included attention to relations and involved use of religion as a resource in development practices.

Sharing the Word by words Operative staff in IELB and MAN-­B were in their daily work placed at the centre of the contentious debate on evangelisation and development practice. Institutional discourses clearly presented the spiritual dimension as a key to a good life, centred on the relation with God through Jesus. The theological perspective of integral mission sees proclamation and service as the double role of the Church in the world, in which individual staff was given a key role. At the same time international guidelines as well as administrative arrangements in IELB and MAN-­B contradicted, at least partly, this integral perspective. In the communities they met expectations to perform religiously, but also suspicion of holding a hidden agenda of conversion to evangelical Christianity. Individual staff are ‘caught’ in the middle of these contentions and forced to negotiate in concrete situations. I expose how sharing faith was an integral part of development practices in IELB and MAN-­B, and how pragmatic and different borders were drawn between acceptable and non-­acceptable inclusion of religious language. A variety of terms are used in academic literature and daily talk to describe the use of religious language related to development practices, e.g. evangelisation, proselytism and proclamation. While for many the terms evangelisation and proclamation refer only or primarily to the use of words, others consider them to embrace both ‘words’ and ‘deeds’. Proselytism, though, is mostly used to refer to a verbal activity aimed at conversion, a change in belief and values (Steigenga and Cleary, 2007). In IELB and MAN-­B the terms they used and the practices these referred to, varied. There was a distinction between preaching at official gatherings and sharing faith during the course of daily work. A community representative pointed towards different practices and labour sharing in this area. When asked if the operative staff ‘share the Word’ he referred to different roles and practices, even though the boundaries seemed blurry: In this part they hardly do, they do not share. Only the responsible, right. So only pastor Lido is the one that shares. He is in charge of this, right. But not always. To start the courses, to start the meetings, to start the work, when a technician comes, he/she always speaks and first gives thanks to God, with a prayer, we always start with that, right. And that is also their work methodology, right. (Interview 3)

Practising integral development   105 The one responsible for sharing the Word, preaching in a more formalised manner through reading and interpreting the Bible ‘on stage’ (Goffman, 1969), was the pastor. The other facilitators were however also sharing faith, through words about God and prayers. These practices depended on the individual staff but were also institutionalised in customary ways of doing things. Presenting a Bible message and praying ‘on stage’ when a new development project was initiated or concluded, was an established practice in both institutions. This was primarily considered to be the role of a pastor, a ‘specialist’, either from a local Lutheran church (IELB) or one of the pastors working in MAN-­B. Staff justified this practice by pointing to the importance of explaining to the community that a project is a gift from God, framing the material project within a religious discourse. In contradiction to ‘official’ positions some of the staff in both institutions also expressed that it is an obligation to use these occasions to promote conversion and not ‘let the opportunity pass by’ (Interviews 7, 13, 19). On these public occasions the institutions used the ‘stage’ to mark their faith-­based identity and frame their work in a religious discourse. The community member quoted above referred to the operative staff ’s use of religious language in their daily practices. When asked if it meant something to him that MAN-­B is a Christian organisation, another community leader responded: ‘Yes. Yes, because they always teach us the word of God, how we can, eh, not have problems. They teach us, because the Word always tells us something, it helps us, it teaches us. You pray’ (Interview 1). Several of the MAN-­B staff told how they used religious language as means to overcome challenges of community participation. When relational problems emerged, they needed to address religious aspects or spiritual values. The pastor in charge of diaconal development was often called upon to talk about values and to inspire the community, as expressed by one of his colleagues: There are things in me, for instance I am an agronomist, I have my technical part, and that might be my strength. But the pastoral part belongs to the office, or the Programme of Diaconal Development, because he works more on values, the church etc. and other things beyond that. Well. Some things I could say to them [in the community] in one form, but not with the same strength as for instance the pastor, who is responsible for the diaconal part. I have seen in my projects that things were not done in one or two days and I said to them: ‘why don’t we invite pastor Lido so that he can talk to us about this, for you to understand better what I am trying to tell you?’ ‘Of course, let him come’. Because sometimes in a project, when there are problems, when there are delays, it is not because the people don’t work, but because there might be other problems in the community, that might affect the family etc., lack of values etc. So sometimes that is where the trouble is, and we see that this does not help the development of the project. (Interview 9)

106   Practising integral development He presented the pastor working with diaconal development as the ‘expert’ with the competence to speak about values from a biblical perspective and considered this as a useful means to secure the development of the project. Operative staff in both institutions confirmed that they shared their faith during the course of daily work. IELB staff explained how planned meetings in the communities always began with prayer and often with reading from the Bible. This was considered a fundamental practice for them as a church, even though the community members might not share the same confession. One of them explained how they as Lutherans pray, while they also open for the indigenous authorities to practice their rituals: We invite the authorities [in the community], and the authorities bring their stuff, the challitas. But we as Christians bring the Bible, like that, and we also read a section. ‘We are going to pray, you also are going to give your prayer’, like that. We do not oblige everyone either saying ‘you have to pray’, no, but ‘you will also do what you believe, and we will also pray’. Like that. So, we both respect each other. (Interview 8) The practice of challar refers to sparsely spreading liquid on the ground when drinking, to give thanks to Pachamama for her fruits and because she is thirsty. It is a way of communicating with Pachamama and is often a way of asking her for permissions, blessings or protection (Estermann, 2006, p.  195). Most often the challa is given as alcohol, but many also – or rather – do it with soda or other drinks. The quote above represents a religious dialogue in the sense that the IELB staff stay together and perform their rituals in the same space as the local indigenous authorities with different practices. The staff member referred to the way they pray (orar) and read the Bible as Lutherans, in contrast to the way Catholics pray (rezar) and the practice of the challa.3 It illustrated the complexity of the religious practices in a small community, where different Protestant, Catholic and precolonial traditions all coexist and influence each other. ‘Respect’ in IELB is understood as sharing space with spiritual practices of other traditions, in line with the ecumenical tradition. In MAN-­B they gave the term ‘respect’ a different content, as their informal policy at official events was to leave the place before the communities’ ‘own’ rituals and celebrations started. ‘Respect’ referred to the practice of recognising the difference and leave to give the community space for their practices. When gathering the community to celebrate the completion of a project, for example an irrigation system, MAN-­B initiated the activity with a religious message, often by a pastor. Representatives from MAN-­B were present at the first half and then left the community to celebrate further: Let’s say it is our institutional position, that is not formal, but the way we have always done it. It is consistent with what we do, right. In the openings one can see, even though it is certain that they respect us as Christians, but

Practising integral development   107 as soon as we leave it all turns into a thing, a…. The Andean religiosity is then practised, not so much the Christian. (Interview 18) Underlying this was a sense of conflict between religious traditions that were not compatible with the institutional and/or individual faith identity. The community members, on the other hand, were also present at the beginning of the celebration, when MAN-­B representatives preached and prayed. Hence, there was a disequilibrium in this relation, where community members were expected to observe or participate in the evangelical practices of MAN-­B, but not the other way around.

Religious performances There was an internal expectation in IELB and MAN-­B that the staff should use their Christian identity as resources in the daily work. Many community members also expected them to play a distinct role and act as religious institutions. A story from the municipality of Sorata shows how MAN-­B, as an NGO, was not afraid of performing as a religious actor officially. Both the team in Sorata as well as a local political leader told me the same story about how they arranged an evangelical devotion in the main hall of the municipality. The only confessing evangelical Christian in the municipal council suggested an evangelical devotion in addition to a Catholic celebration in the ‘red salon’. When the council agreed, he immediately thought of MAN-­B: So, from that moment I first thought of MAN-­B, because they are already a team, a team well composed. They know who can preach, who can worship, who can play the guitar in the team, right. I didn’t have to organise it. So, I immediately thought of them and I sent them a note inviting them to a devotion in the ‘red salon’. (Interview 5) As an NGO, MAN-­B was seen not only as a resource when it came to development issues but was also known as performers of religion. MAN-­B staff were also invited, on a personal level, to preach in different local churches. This was also the case in IELB, where several of the technical staff engaged in a local Lutheran church personally. A leader in IELB explained how spiritual practices were expected, and sometimes even required, in the daily practices: Yes, sometimes the circumstances push you, they push you to do it. I don’t have any theological formation, I have taken a few very brief courses in theology, and well, what I have learned in church with some Bible studies. But when I accepted the work here in development, you’re in a community and as an example they say ‘brother, share the Word’. So, you can’t say ‘you know, I can’t’ or ‘I haven’t brought my Bible’. Or they ask you to pray

108   Practising integral development or that you direct a devotion. It has happened to me and I had to simply do it. And it has also happened to some of the technical staff who were not part of the church, for example the one working with solar tents, who was Christian, but he was not a Lutheran. (Interview 14) This leader expressed a need for theological competence to meet the requirements in the operative field. Local churches as well as others in the community expected the staff to have a certain religious competence as workers in a faith-­ based institution. The leadership in IELB expressed a wish to integrate theological reflections in a better way in their social development work, also including the operative staff. The same need was expressed by facilitators in MAN-­B, as the example on the role of women discussed early on in Chapter 5 illustrated. They needed to be able to respond to theological arguments and requests that came from community members. Expectations from local communities and churches, as well as from some colleagues in the institutions themselves, challenged and even contradicted formal administrative guidelines and the international networks’ attempts to separate evangelisation and development work. Most of the staff at the leadership and operative levels in IELB and MAN-­B supported the principle of not asking people to convert or join an evangelical/Lutheran church as part of the development work. Explicit encouragement to convert to evangelicalism or join a church was defined as the pragmatic border between these two ‘spheres’ of their mission. However, the result of the practices was in many cases increased attendance or a better reputation of churches. As long as religious language is part of the means used to strengthen people’s possibilities to live a good life, there are no clear boundaries around proselytism. One of the technical staff in IELB, exposed this blurry field of boundaries: There we are winning souls. The ones that did not know the Lord and come to the course, then we speak to them about the Lord: ‘You have to trust the Lord, because he is the first’, and some then stay in the church. We are helping the sisters that way. After entering with the project, we have won many souls. For example, in Mocomoco there are now many sisters attending church. In Colocolo for example, the whole community, the whole community is now Christian, the whole community. (Interview 7) This should not be automatically judged as discrimination and a violation of religious freedom, as is often argued by adherents to a strict separation of religious and development activities. The Andean communities have lived with Catholic Christianity for about 500 years, and with different types of evangelical Christianity for more than 100 years. They have proved their ability to reflect critically on, strategically use, adapt to and resist religious influences and are not mainly passive victims of religious missionaries. Still, it is a real and continuous tension

Practising integral development   109 of faith-­based development work to strive for non-­discrimination and to avoid putting pressure on people in difficult and vulnerable situations. A critical awareness of power relations is fundamental to the work for religious freedom and non-­discrimination in faith-­based development. Where these boundaries should be drawn will continue to be a highly contentious issue. Communities in the Bolivian Andes are not homogeneous, despite being frequently portrayed as one entity. Just as IELB and MAN-­B meet expectations to perform religiously, they also encounter scepticism due to their faith identities. The community representatives I spoke to were appreciative of the religious dimension in IELB and MAN-­B’s work.4 It is however not obvious that the communities in the Andes respond positively to Protestant institutions. Evangelical churches have often been accused of contributing to a disintegration of indigenous communities, as many of them understand parts of the community practices to be incompatible with their faith, a question I will shortly return to. The growth of Protestant churches in recent decades has also led to an increased heterogeneity in the religious composition, which might be reasons for divisions in communities. Since the projects of IELB were mostly implemented in areas where they had local congregations, the community knew who they were and how they worked. The situation for MAN-­B was different, and they were often met with scepticism towards evangelical actors: On many occasions they have also asked us if we are going to oblige them to all convert to evangelical Christians, right. It is a theme that we explain to them also, and that is also the institutional philosophy. We are going to seek justice, we are not going to discriminate, if you are Christian, Catholic, Muslim, this. And also, the race theme, or if you are from here or there, right. So, we start there, right, saying that the institution is evangelical Christian, we are going to direct ourselves according to these principles and also apply them in the projects. But we are not going to oblige you to convert. (Interview 18) The initial resistance and susceptibility in the communities was also confirmed by her colleagues. They argued that after an initial talk and clarification of MAN-­B’s evangelical identity and their practices, few tensions related to religion marked their relations with the communities.

Local churches as tools or goals The complex negotiation processes of drawing lines between acceptable and non-­acceptable involvement of religion also affected IELB and MAN-­B’s relations with the local churches. In both institutions the local churches were important partners, based on theological reflection as well as development theory. In operationalising such partnerships, the staff needed to balance the role and interests of congregations as local religious actors of development.

110   Practising integral development In MAN-­B the relation with local churches was marked by unity and alliance based in the discourses of diakonia and integral mission, but also by a certain division of labour and fear of being perceived as too close. The direct coordination with local churches was assigned to the pastor in charge of the Diaconal Development Programme. In Sorata the main objective of this work was ‘that the church does not enclose itself between their four walls, but that the church directs itself towards the community in a practical way, right’ (Interview 10). Churches should be part of and strive for community development, as ‘agents of change’. MAN-­B worked to change the churches’ behaviour in society through a strategy of leadership training, particularly of pastors, with a focus diakonia and integral mission. These leaders were then supposed to influence members of their congregations to take part in diaconal actions in society. As institutions churches did not play a role in the projects, only the leaders. ‘There are one, two, three leaders that distinguish themselves in the church, and they get involved in the projects. But as church–church working with the projects, I think not yet. No’, a MAN-­B leader expressed (Interview 18). The operative staff confirmed that the churches are not only a ‘mission field’ for MAN-­B, but also key allied in community development. ‘Churches are strategic allies, right, of the institution, because they, eh, they focus more on the spiritual and we more on the social part. So, it’s complementary, right. It is complementary. But at the same time it is also to challenge the church to comply with their social role’, one of them stated (Interview 10). He confirmed an operative division of labour in which MAN-­B was concerned with social aspects and the churches with the spiritual dimension. In Cheje, where the Lutheran church was centrally placed at the entrance of the community, one community leader saw the church as alien to the community development projects of MAN-­B. The church played no role, but ‘us as community members, as we are part of the community, we do work in them. I myself am a Christian from here, from the Lutheran church, but I am in this with the community working with all the projects’, he explained. He continued to describe a clear division: ‘So, it is here as church, right, only the Word of God, nothing more. There with all the Christians, nothing more, the church does not go further than that. The church does not participate nor influence anything’ (Interview 3). Despite years of working in Cheje, MAN-­B did not seem to have reached their aim of alluring the church out of ‘their four walls’. The direct contact between MAN-­B and the churches as institutions was understood to be through the pastor in charge of the Diaconal Programme. The minimal contact between the other operative staff and churches was explained with references to non-­discrimination and fear of being perceived as favouring evangelicals. One of the facilitators said: Concretely I do not have much interaction with the churches, no, no. Because we are in the communities, I think that is exactly where the communities value us a lot and it is easier that, eh, they listen to the Word like that, because there is no discrimination. Imagine if we said: ‘we are going to

Practising integral development   111 do a project here, but how many families are evangelical, because only for them will we do this project’. We can create division, we can create [division] like that, and I think that the Word does not say that. We rather always say that before God we are all God’s children. And we all deserve an opportunity to change, right. (Interview 9) She pointed to how close contact with churches might threaten the image of the primary goal of MAN-­B as community development, not conversion. Her response indicated a limited practical engagement with churches, despite their position as strategic partners in institutional discourses. In IELB the local congregations were presented as playing an active role in community development projects, which was also my impression travelling with two of the IELB staff on the road to Aguas Blancas. We first stopped in a little community about six hours’ drive from La Paz and parked in the plaza outside the Lutheran church. The church looked like the other houses, small and humble. We were met by an IELB church leader of the district, pastor José. He took us to see the solar tents that IELB was implementing, we explored three tents and talked to a young couple who owned one of them. Pastor José told us that he visited the different churches in the district, mainly by foot and partly by bus. During his time as a district leader the number of congregations had risen from seven to ten, he claimed. Pastor José lived in the community we stopped in, and according to him 18 of the about 60 families were members of the Lutheran church. The only other church present was the Catholic, he said, but only with a catechist. In the final destination of our journey, Aguas Blancas, there was also a Lutheran church building centrally placed in the middle of the community, a quite large construction compared to the other houses. A woman in the community explained that the majority in the community belonged to the Lutheran church. Staff on operative as well as the leadership level in IELB highlighted the importance of close contact and coordination with both churches and community leaders when planning and implementing a project. One of them listed who they mainly coordinate with in the communities: ‘With the authorities, the Mallkus, the originarios [both indigenous authorities], with the committees of water and construction of latrines, with them we have contact. And also with the pastor in the church’ (Interview 8). His colleagues confirmed the contact with the local churches and pointed to concrete roles of local Lutheran churches in the project they were in charge of: ‘Because the course is done in the church building, and the pastors are always there’ (Interview 7). Every course started with a devotion, and most often the local pastor was the one preaching. The local Lutheran church was presented as important for the operative staff, as partners in the projects but also as their ‘home’ when they were travelling from place to place. They were provided food and shelter, used church buildings as locations for activities, were occasionally invited to preach and were engaged in the congregations on a personal level.

112   Practising integral development The relation between the local congregations and IELB’s development projects was strong, both based on personal as well as a strategic level. On some occasions the church leaders in the communities had not been contacted and included in the project process, and this had caused reactions. A central principle was made for the operative practices in IELB, namely that the projects should ‘strengthen the work of the congregations in the place of implementation’ (IELB, 2011). What this ‘strengthening’ meant was not expressed clearly, but it is plausible to interpret it in terms of increased trust from the communities as well growth in members. As one of the operative staff members enthusiastically explained, they had ‘won many souls’ and church members as part of the project. His colleague explained how local church members sometimes expected to be prioritised: ‘Ehm, maybe the brothers and sisters, let’s say they want to be first: “I am Lutheran, you have to do this for me”. But we do not condition saying: “I give you a latrine and clean water, but you have to come to the church”. No. No. We don’t condition’ (Interview 8). This illustrates the complexity and dilemmas facing operative staff when trying to balance between non-­discrimination and simultaneously face the expectations of contributing to strengthening the church. There is an obvious risk that development projects can be used mainly as instruments to reach a ‘higher’ goal of recruiting church members and ‘saving souls’. Relational and religious dimensions were interconnected in the practices of IELB and MAN-­B, and religious language and local churches were means to create good relations and participation in the community. Discursive religious practices were used to inspire change in people’s relations in the communities, with creation and with God. There was an underlying theological assumption that related people’s well-­being to the relationship with God through Jesus Christ. In MAN-­B and IELB the use of Christian language aimed at making life better through what ter Haar calls ‘religious experiences’: ‘the psychic attitudes that religion may induce particularly in individuals, such as the subject experience of inner change or transformation’ (2011, pp.  8–9). Inner subject experiences, ter Haar argues, may empower people to participate and change their own life situation and society.

Religious and cultural values Religious experiences are often presented as a resource for staff in faith-­based institutions, empowering them in their daily activities. In MAN-­B and IELB, faith was presented as a key source of staff ’s values, but as religion is embedded and constructed in specific contexts these values cannot be attributed Christianity as a general tradition. The Christian beliefs were one part of the personal and institutional identity, but the indigenous cultural context (mainly Aymara) was another defining factor in their ‘ways of being’ (Fairclough, 2014, p. 12). Fundamental values were presented as motivating factors by and for the operative staff in IELB and MAN-­B, based in both their Christian faith and their cultural Aymaran context.

Practising integral development   113 Love was presented as a formal institutional value in both IELB and MAN-­B, as discussed in Chapter 4. Testimonies of the operative staff presented the faith in God as a motivating factor and source of values, with love as the most fundamental. One of them exposed loving God and complying with the community as keys to his ways of being as a technical staff in IELB: ‘First comes loving God. Then, comply with people. That we are honest persons. That people do not say that IELB and their technicians do not work, but “they do”, right’ (Interview 8). Working hard and completing the project, preferably within a short time frame, was by this technician described as the way to preserve the respect the community held towards IELB and him personally. To love God was presented as the initial step, leading to the described ways of being and working. One of his colleagues exposed the same line of thinking, presenting love in and from God as the reason for why she worked with IELB: ‘That is because we feel the love towards our neighbour. Like the fourth or fifth commandment says, that is what we practice’ (Interview 7). The actions followed from the divine love and commandments, she argued. Love was also by operative staff in MAN-­B presented as the prime value and starting point of practice. ‘You have to practise love, not just say it, right. So, I say it is not words, it is actions, right’, one of them proclaimed (Interview 9). During my fieldwork, there were tensions around perceptions of institutional values in MAN-­B. The leadership, both in conversations with me as well as in open institutional meetings, questioned the staff ’s operationalisation of the written values. The team in Sorata reacted to this critique and one of them stated with emotion: Arnhild, you know how we went walking yesterday. It is not the same to see it in a moment and then say: ‘this is like that and this is what I observe’. Only the persons, the brothers and sisters who are here, know to which degree it is like that. One has to be there in the battlefield. Because here, above all, I think it is a battlefield of values. What do we do? We fight for these values, values that are given us by God, [and which God] instructed us to follow. Every day we do that. We don’t like to see corruption, we don’t like to see lying because it jeopardises. We don’t like to see laziness, we don’t like to see irresponsibility and every day we are in this in the communities. (Interview 9) The values are fought for every day in the operative practices, and the source of these values is God, she said. While the staff members primarily referred to their Christian belief as the source of values and motivation, the Aymara culture also played a significant role. Values can be justified either based in Christianity or in the Aymara culture, or both at the same time. A staff member in MAN-­B explained how they strategically used different ‘languages’ to promote fundamental values, depending on whom they spoke with:

114   Practising integral development

  When working with the churches the Bible is fundamental, the values that the Bible shows us and the life of Jesus Christ. Fundamental, because without this we will not be able to orient the churches. Now, with the communities, even though it is true that we also use the Word, the cultural aspect is fundamental. Yes, the cultural. So that is where you have to manage several foci, right: The biblical, the cultural, the current, the contextual, right. ARNHILD:  Because all those values could also be talked about from the perspective of values in the Aymara culture, right? Interviewee:  Yes. Yes. They are not necessarily the same, let’s say, as the biblical. But yes, they are, the majority, the same values. Obviously, the Christian aspect has more, let’s say it’s more spiritual, right. More spiritual. So, eh, I believe that one has to be strategic with these issues also, of how we come into the society, seeing their interests first. What are they interested in? What do they know best? (Interview 18) Interviewee:

This quotation reflects how the staff in MAN-­B worked when promoting values in the communities. The institutional values were formally based on a theological understanding, but the guiding principle described above was pragmatic. Whatever language works to talk about the content of the values, should be used. A colleague in MAN-­B presented the biblical as well as the cultural values as expressions of universal values: the values are practically found in the Bible, right. So, these are not something alien, but rather also in the Quechua culture and Aymara culture they manage these three values of ama suwa, ama llulla, ama quella, but this is also biblical, right. Obviously, we have to be cautious of, of not falling into proselytism, right. We are not going to say: ‘Now we are going to speak about the Gospel, we are going to evangelise you’, right. No, because these are human values, they are universal, right. And these must be applied in every culture. (Interview 10) Ama suwa, ama llulla, ama quella is the classical Inca-­code, in Quechua, of ethical behaviour: ‘Do not steal, do not lie, do not be lazy!’ This code is maintained as central in Andean indigenous communities, as practical rules for maintaining the principle of reciprocity and good relations (Estermann, 2006, pp.  269–74). Most of the operative staff members were not only familiar with the values of the Andean context, but also identified with the cultural values. Different religious and cultural aspects of the institutional as well as their personal identity were negotiated continuously as part of their professional development practices.

Practising integral development   115

Giving Pepsi to Pachamama: mediating cultural and religious identities There are other institutions that come here, and the first thing that we see is the drinking and all that. And they show us an example. But the Mission [MAN-­B] gives the example of not doing these things, of not participating much. They only do the positive, thinking of the best for the community. That is what distinguishes them the most from other institutions. (Interview 3) This community leader presented MAN-­B with three characteristics: they showed respect, they administered things well and, as elaborated in this quotation, were marked by their religious identity. He highlighted what the staff members of MAN-­B did not do, which distinguished them from other institutions. The choice of not participating was a response to Andean indigenous practices, when these were understood to have a religious meaning unacceptable to their own faith identity. In the quote above it related to practices of community celebrations, often marked by alcohol consumption. Alcohol consumption is often more restricted among many members of Protestant churches. This is well known in Andean communities, and MAN-­B was not expected to participate in events in which alcohol was involved. This restriction on the use of alcohol and the linkage with a Protestant identity, was also confirmed by a Lutheran pastor and politician, as well as one of the operative workers in IELB. The first said his political life was difficult because he did not share alcohol with community members, and the second pointed out that he as a Lutheran did not drink alcohol. Abstinence from alcohol was presented as a consequence of their faith, without references to potential social impacts of alcohol consumption. In the communities there was a certain acceptance for not drinking alcohol based on being ‘religious’.5 The practical solution to this was that the community postponed the ‘real party’ until after the staff of MAN-­B had left. Alcohol is debated within Christianity globally, but in the Andes there is also the dimension of alcohol playing a central role in spiritual and cultural indigenous practices. When community members drink, they do the challa and give some to Pachamama, to share with her and give back something of that which is given by her. Alcohol is also central in other ceremonies dedicated to Pachamama, asking for protection, prosperity and fertile ground for the crops to grow. In community practices, cultural and religious traditions from Catholicism, different Protestant churches and indigenous groups intersect with other influences of globalisation and ‘modernity’.6 Hence, for the individuals working in MAN-­B and IELB it was not an easy field to manoeuvre in to find out when to participate and when to abstain. None of the institutions had official guidelines for these complex issues. One story from MAN-­B serves as a good illustration to the complex negotiation processes involved. The director of the sister organisation Mission Alliance in Ecuador (MAN-­E) had visited Sorata and participated in an inauguration of a

116   Practising integral development class room. An authority from Sorata initiated the official opening by cutting the ribbon and breaking a bottle on the ground. The director of MAN-­E, as a visitor, was asked to go next. He cut the ribbon, and then he asked for the bottle, which they initially had not given him. He was handed one and broke it like the authority had done. No one said anything at that moment, but afterwards MAN-­B staff explained the symbol of this as the challa, giving thanks to Pachamama. The director of MAN-­E only laughed, and so did the team in Sorata when we spoke about this situation. The ‘misunderstanding’ was based on not knowing the informal, yet institutionalised ‘ways of acting’ in MAN-­B. It was also a clear sign that the director of MAN-­E was not familiar with the cultural and religious practices of Bolivian communities. Representatives of MAN-­B cut the ribbon, but they did not break the bottle. Cutting the ribbon was considered a cultural action, while breaking the bottle was framed religiously. This was not written anywhere, but was an established practice based on – and simultaneously constructing – the institutional faith identity. It was taken for granted and seldomly spoken of in an institutional setting and what was done – and not done – was based on knowledge of established practices and personal interpretations and negotiations. There were different opinions on the issue in MAN-­B, and the leadership in general expressed stricter attitudes than the operative staff. After being told the story in Sorata, we continued to talk, reflecting on the intention and thoughts behind the action related to the act itself. Some of the staff argued that if the intention behind is not to communicate with Pachamama, there is no harm in breaking the bottle. Others focused on the possible message sent to the communities, as legitimising indigenous religious ideas. In IELB there were also different opinions on the relationship with Andean spiritual practices. On our way to Aguas Blancas, I observed pastor José and congregation members giving Pepsi to Pachamama. When we visited the young couple in their solar tents, the man told me he was responsible for communication work in the local Lutheran church. While we talked, the woman ran to their small adobe house to get a big bottle of Pepsi and a cup. We all shared the same cup, emptying it one by one. Both the young couple and pastor José first gave a little to Pachamama, the traditional challa, before they drank the rest of the cup themselves. For them, as active Lutherans, challar was part of their identity and naturally combined with a visit from the IELB leaders. I cannot say whether they would have done the same with alcohol, and the role of the Pepsi thus remains hanging. Did the non-­alcoholic Pepsi function as a mediator between cultural practices and their Lutheran faith? Despite sharing numerous meals with staff at the main office of IELB, I never observed them practising this. Similar differences in concrete practices were observable in the question of chewing coca leaves. Coca leaves are in the Andes traditionally used both as a medicinal plant and as a mild stimulant to avoid altitude sickness, tiredness and a feeling of hunger. However, it is also used in religious practices, as part of what is offered to Pachamama in ceremonies. Based on this, many Protestants consider the coca leaves as something to abstain from. While in Cheje I was told that the Lutherans there ‘are too conservative to chew coca’. The persons from

Practising integral development   117 the main office in IELB, on the other hand, consumed coca leaves in the car all the way to Aguas Blancas to prevent altitude sickness and tiredness. I have never observed anyone from MAN-­B chewing coca leaves or heard them speak of it in either positive or negative terms.7 As neither MAN-­B nor IELB had official guidelines or positions on how to handle these situations, the internal interpretations naturally vary. The cultural identity of individuals was a defining factor and operative staff members underlined the need for the person to judge and act in a given situation. There was a subtle understanding of struggles involved in trying to balance religious faith with cultural background and respect for the community. One of the workers in MAN-­B expressed it as an ‘internal fight’: So obviously we are here in a ... how do I say it ... an internal fight, right. Because we have Christians in the team, Catholics and this, but who are also Andean and know this religiosity. It is not that we do not know, rather we do know, right, we know what the customs are, all this. There is a kind of expectation that because we are Andeans we should be involved in these issues. So, this is in a way the war, that is, we do not do these things, so then you are not Aymara, then you are not Bolivian, right. So exactly this is the fight, this is a fight. That is, I am Bolivian, I know this, this Andean religiosity, but the good things I do and the bad things I throw away. That is the fight that every one of us has. (Interview 18) This quote is a quite clear example of negotiations and the double identity as a Christian and an Aymara. As argued in the previous chapter there was a tendency to harmonise the relation between the Aymara philosophy and the biblical message in the institutional discourses on suma qamaña. In practice this becomes more complex, as the staff members need to define which practices are to be considered as Andean religiosity and which are valuable cultural practices that should be maintained and participated in. One of the facilitators in MAN-­B reflected on the matter as follows: There are for example things that, there are some cultural aspects that ... practically collide with the theology. So, eh, for example the aspect of, let’s say, the Andean world view, that is taking more power now, right, and this is now supported by the state. So, this is a big challenge for us, right. And how can we enter into this, for example with what is Pachamama, right, the practice that is now imposed, particularly in this western part, right. So, this is a challenge, but also in the theological part we should work hard and find some coinciding points, right. Because we do not want to say to the communities: ‘This practice is very bad, because the Bible says so’, no. Because that would be discrimination. So, I think we need to be more strategic and obviously we have to say what we have to say. There are good things in every culture, but there are also things that are not. So, these are practically

118   Practising integral development anti-­biblical, right, and I think this should be worked with very strategically, right, to have an adequate theology in this sense. (Interview 10) He argued for a further need to reflect on the cultural aspect from a theological perspective. The same need of theological discussions on cultural aspects of the Andes was broadly solicited in both IELB and MAN-­B. Such institutional reflections and conversations could provide individual staff with tools in situations where they need to negotiate tensions concerned with framing and defining practices as religious or as cultural. These contentious questions force individual staff into deciding what part of their own identity should be given priority in concrete situations. Their own religious faith can be in conflict with actions that would strengthen relations with community members and development processes, as the practice of the challa can illustrate. Its cultural significance expresses a fundamental sharing, belonging and interdependence with both Pachamama and the rest of the community. Hence, it contributes to IELB and MAN-­B’s central goals of good relations and care for the environment. By participating in the challa, staff would not only identify as part of the community, but also show recognition of indigenous practices. For many in IELB and MAN-­B such actions were however interpreted as contrary to their own faith, as Pachamama was seen as another deity. In this position individuals are caught in contentious questions within communities, churches and faith-­based institutions.

Contentious gender issues Gender equality was a key development goal for both IELB and MAN-­B and another field of clear disputes of the relationship between religion and development. Gender relations and women’s rights are broadly debated in international faith-­based development work and research (i.e. Tadroz, 2010; Tomalin, 2013; Tønnessen, 2012). For some actors, tensions are based on the distance between theological interpretations and secular views on women’s rights, but within Christianity it is also illustrative to the heterogeneity of the religion. I have already pointed to questions of women’s position in church and society as contentious issues in IELB and MAN-­B. They were, as institutions and as individual staff, placed at the centre of theological disputes on what God’s intentions with women and men ‘actually’ are. In IELB there was an internal discussion where ‘conservatives’ discredited female pastors. In MAN-­B they tried to avoid gender as a theological discussion, but the operational staff were met with theology as counterarguments when promoting women’s rights. In both institutions staff negotiated and attempted to reconcile questions of gender roles through shifting constructions of relationships and non-­relationships between religion and development. Both IELB and MAN-­B recognised the traditional subordinate role of women in family, society and church in Bolivia and implemented projects aimed at strengthening women’s rights. In IELB gender relations between men and

Practising integral development   119 women were not made a mainstream thematic issue, but they worked with strengthening women’s role in the church and had specific development projects directed at improving women’s life quality. In MAN-­B, gender work was also in most cases related to women’s projects at a practical operational level. In the organisational discourse gender was however a widely used term, both in writing as well as in speech. The material part of the gender work in both IELB and MAN-­B mainly consisted in women’s projects of teaching handicrafts, flower production, or other kinds of productive activities. These projects gave women income, influenced family relations and created new or strengthened ‘sectors’ for women in society, e.g. handicrafts and flower and food production. These material activities were combined with capacity training on different topics, such as women’s rights and gender-­based violence, and a focus on strengthening women’s organisation and participation on different levels. Through these projects IELB and MAN-­B contributed to improvements in women’s social positions as they expanded their field of agency in society and family. There was a considerable difference between IELB and MAN-­B when it came to addressing women’s position in the churches. MAN-­B had no project or discourse that aimed to change women’s subordinate status in Protestant churches, while this was a main objective at the headquarters in IELB. ‘One of the goals is that the women’s capacity is strengthened in the thematic areas, so that they can work in church, in the family and in the community, right. And another goal is that the women can contribute economically’, one of the IELB leaders expressed (Interview 15). Women’s positions in the three arenas of family, society and church where integrated, and theology was a natural resource in working with gender relations. It was presented as a slow process: We move forward little by little, at the local level, at the district level and at the national level. It has been a long process. We have worked most with the theme of gender, right, gender equality, this, participation of women, leadership, and also women in the Bible. These themes we have been working with for three, four years and from that the organisation of women has appeared, to be able to organise, plan and participate in the church as well as in the family and the society. (Interview 15) In IELB they drew on both theology and development theory in their work with gender, and through this they constructed an integral relationship between religion and development with a theological interpretation of equality between women and men. They co-­organised the work of the coordinator for women and the operative staff working with women’s projects. ‘This year with [the secretary of] Social Development we work with handicraft. They have this, their staff already have capacity in knitting and sewing. So, they help us with that, and we cover the food and the themes of the relation of women, the Bible and all this’ (Interview 15), a leader explained. Theology was not used only to empower women in the church, but also in the work with women in general.

120   Practising integral development In MAN-­B, on the other hand, gender was not presented as a particular challenge in the church or for theology at an institutional level. Apart from the general argument that both women and men are created in the image of God, there was no formal and strategic theological reflection on gender. In an internal meeting one of the leaders spoke about gender relations in a way that illustrate negotiation processes involving theology, international development discourses and the cultural context. She extensively spoke of gender as a question of power relations and justice and defined the aim as equity in possibilities for men and women. The concept of chacha warmi, the Aymara philosophy of gender complementarity, was used both in written and orally (Estermann, 2006, pp. 223–30). This was harmonised with a faith identity through arguing that the same reciprocity found in chacha warmi was also biblical. Both the Bible and the Aymara philosophy values women and men as complementary and recognise differences between the sexes, she argued. For this leader the discourse of gender equality promoted in international development was combined with the discourse of chacha warmi, while she only briefly included a general reference to the Bible. This was only one of the examples of negotiations where internal theological disagreements concerning women’s role were ignored. To avoid open tensions on gender issues staff in MAN-­B kept specific theological arguments out of the conversation, and through this they outwardly constructed a non-­relationship between religion and development. This way they maintained a harmony and unity of staff and churches with conflicting positions on women’s role in society and family. Gender relations in churches was an absent topic on all levels in MAN-­B and constructed as irrelevant to what they did as institution and to their goal of strengthening the churches. While the discourse of integral development dominated and was operationalised in other areas, women’s subordinate roles in churches was disintegrated from the debates on gender relations. Avoiding theological debates led to a lost opportunity of using theology as a resource to strengthen women’s positions. As I have recounted, operative staff requested more theological training in this area, as they lacked tools to meet counterarguments stemming from theological interpretations used to discredit their practice of strengthening women’s rights. They were left in situations where they, as workers in a Christian institution, felt an absence of religious resources to bridge and explain their faith and practices.

Ways of acting, interacting and being I have in this chapter explored how relations of religion and development are constructed through ways of acting, interacting and being in operative faith-­ based development work (Fairclough, 2014, p.  12). Religion was in IELB and MAN-­B presented as a source for the personal motivation of the staff and the way they did their work and treated the communities. Key religious values such as love inspired attitudes that shaped ‘the professional judgement, identity and motivation’ of the operative staff (van der Wel, 2011, p. 355). Religious words and practices were part of the daily dialogue between the community and the

Practising integral development   121 operative staff and at public events. They were means to obtain immaterial goals of good relationships, trust and partnership with and within communities (van der Wel, 2011, p. 354). These development objectives are however also religious goals, and intentions or hopes of personal spiritual changes or church growth can therefore not be ignored. The values promoted by the operative staff were based in personal faith as well as in institutional faith-­based identities. I have argued how these ways of integrating a Christian evangelical religious dimension in the operative work were highly influenced by the cultural Aymara context in which they play out. IELB and MAN-­B’s enactment of integral development have also exposed tensions and contentious issues faced when trying to negotiate multiple sides of individual and institutional identities.

Notes 1 In the following discussion I make use of Fairclough’s approach to operationalisation: Discourses may under certain conditions be operationalized, ‘put into practice’ – a dialectical process with three aspects: they may be enacted as new ways of (inter) acting, they may be inculcated as new ways of being (identities), or they may be physically materialized, i.e. as new ways of organizing space in architecture. (2014, p. 12) 2 I was told that about 80 families live there. The population in the communities are normally counted as number of families, not individual persons. It is also difficult to get an exact number due to migration, and many families have a house both in the community as well as in the city of El Alto or La Paz. 3 Orar is understood as a more personal and ‘free’ prayer, common among evangelicals. Rezar is more common in Catholic settings and refers to fixed prayer and ritual. 4 This might be understood as a consequence of ties with the projects, as I interviewed people involved in or affected by the work of MAN-­B. It must also be taken into consideration that many associated me with the institution, as I arrived as a Norwegian in the company of MAN-­B staff. 5 ‘Religious’ is in the Andes often used to describe people belonging to evangelical churches, distinct from Catholic or indigenous spiritual practices. 6 Modernity here refers generally to Eurocentric ideas of modernity, including processes of secularisation, capitalism and consumption culture. 7 This is based on my former knowledge of and contact with MAN-­B since 2004, as well as the fieldwork in 2012. People in MAN-­B drank coca tea and recommend it for altitude sickness, so it was not the substance itself which was considered controversial.

References DeTemple, J. (2012). Cement, Earthworms and Cheese Factories. Religion and Community Development in Rural Ecuador. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame. Estermann, J. (2006). Filosofía andina. Sabiduría indígena para un mundo nuevo. La Paz: ISEAT. Fairclough, N. (2014). Critical Discourse Analysis. In Gee, J. P. and Handford, M. (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Discourse Analysis (pp.  9–20). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Goffman, E. (1969). The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. London: Penguin.

122   Practising integral development IELB (2011). Plan operativo anual (POA) Gestión 2012: Diaconía en acción [unpublished]. La Paz: IELB. Steigenga, T. J. and Cleary, E. L. (2007). Understanding Conversion in the Americas. In Steigenga, T.  J. and Cleary, E.  L. (eds.), Conversion of a Continent: Contemporary Religious Change in Latin America (pp.  3–32). Piscataway, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Tadros, M. (2010). Faith-­Based Organizations and Service Delivery. Some Gender Conundrums. United Nations Research Institute for Social Development. ter Haar, G. (2011). Religion and Development: Introducing a New Debate. In ter Haar, G. (ed.), Religion and Development: Ways of Transforming the World (pp.  3–26). London: Hurst. Tomalin, E. (2013). Religions and Development. New York: Routledge. Tønnessen, A. V. (2012). Trosbaserte organisasjoner, utvikling og kjønn – utfordringer og muligheter. In Jøssang, A. and Øyhus, A. O. (eds.), Religionens rolle i bistand og utvikling (pp. 98–110). Kristiansand: Portal forlag. van der Wel, L. (2011). Integral Development. Religion and Development Cooperation in the Netherlands. In ter Haar, G. (ed.), Religion and Development: Ways of Transforming the World (pp. 345–59). London: Hurst.

8 Unresolved tensions in faith-­based development

Introduction I have throughout this book approached relationships between religion and development as constructed, complex and dynamic, and involving a range of institutional and individual actors. Even though I myself have made use of typologies of FBOs to some extent and consider such models as useful analytical tools, my approach opposes assumptions of faith identities as inherent in institutions and possible to ‘discover’. I expose a messy, complex and dynamic picture which brings to light underlying tensions and contentious issues involved in faith-­based development. In this chapter I first synthesise the conclusions from the previous chapters to illustrate the complex and dynamic constructions of the faith identities of IELB and MAN-­B. The second part of the chapter provides examples of how contentious issues and unresolved tensions of faith-­based development are global and yet fundamentally localised in their expressions.

Constructing faith-­based identities My analysis of the case studies from Bolivia is based on a view of identity as continuous negotiation processes carried out both on an individual as well as institutional level, in discourses and practices. Hence, the faith-­based identity of MAN-­B and IELB is marked by individuals’ agency as well as structures. The discussion was built around six ways in which institutions construct a complex and distinct faith-­based identity through: (1) formal documents; (2) institutional theological discourses; (3) their relationships to and with the churches; (4) the composition of the staff; (5) their relationships to other confessions and religious traditions; and (6) their understanding of development as integral. A key tension in faith-­based development work is found in the relation between strategies and practices. Religion had a prominent place in the formal documents in IELB and MAN-­B and the presentation of them as an evangelical NGO (MAN-­B) and a Lutheran church (IELB). However, strategic documents offered a limited picture and the use of them varied considerably. MAN-­B had ongoing strategic discussions, while IELB’s documents were taken out of a drawer or not even found. Formal documents are therefore of limited importance

124   Unresolved tensions in faith-based development when exploring institutional identities. The way the suma qamaña discourse was excluded and included in different situations, illustrated the dynamic processes of identity construction. The staff ’s religious and cultural background plays a fundamental role in the construction of the institutional faith-­based identity. Staff members influence the dialogue on theology internally and make use of (or do not make use of ) religious language, methods and means according to their own interpretations and capacities. Individuals negotiate between their own cultural and religious background and their evangelical and/or Lutheran institutional setting. They also negotiate between theology presented in a work setting and that of their own local congregations. Hence, the human factor in faith-­based development work (as well as secular development) is crucial to address in order to understand identity construction. These negotiating processes might be in accordance with, or in competition with or in contrast to, the more or less formal requirements of staffing. In MAN-­B employees were expected to have an evangelical identity expressed through an ‘intimate relation with Christ’. In IELB most of the staff were recruited from local Lutheran churches and loyalty to IELB’s values and strategies was required. Both institutions were marked by a view of faith as positive, and even necessary, for the motivation and ethical practices required. The main institutional theological discourses of IELB and MAN-­B showed that they draw on established orders of discourses in their national and international networks. Both used the evangelical discourse of integral mission, and IELB also drew on ecumenical liberation theology. Even though these theological discourses were dominant, there were competitive and challenging currents found in institutional ritual practices and among individual staff members’ interpretations. The leadership in IELB focused on strengthening the Lutheran identity to combat these competing theological discourses, while in MAN-­B there was little theological discussion. While theological reflection and discussion is a key essence of being a church such as IELB, MAN-­B as an NGO is held together by their main goal of contributing to development. The interdenominational identity of MAN-­B may even be based on such absent theological debate, as opening up for theological discussion could threaten the unity. It did however limit the use of theology as a strategic resource that could strengthen motivation and influence. How and for what purpose theology is used strategically in faith-­ based development, is a debated issue deeply connected with the heterogeneity of theological interpretations. Both IELB and MAN-­B are religious communities that, in Lincoln’s words, ‘construct their identity with references to a religious discourse and its attendant practices’ (2003, p. 7). Theologically both institutions considered themselves to be part of the Church participating in God’s mission in and with the world. This situates their work in relations to interpretations of the nature of the Church, the community of believers, as a theological concept. More apparent are however their relations to local churches seen from a sociological perspective. IELB is constituted by the local churches and these held central positions of power. The local pastor, the church building and members of the congregation were key

Unresolved tensions in faith-based development   125 actors in the social development projects. In MAN-­B the local churches were presented as allies in the mission of the Church, but also as as a ‘target group’ to be changed. In both cases questions of instrumentalisation are pertinent. For MAN-­B the local churches were, at least partially, instruments used in pursue of community development. In IELB, on the other hand, an instrumental use of development projects was to some degree means to strengthen the local churches and ‘win souls’. Concerns of legitimate or illegitimate use of either religion and/ or development are contentious issues both in faith-­based as well as secular development.1 I argue that in practice it is impossible to avoid traits of instrumentalisation of either religion or development. As such the relationship between them remains an unresolved tension. The faith-­based identity was not just constructed through a process of identifying with or as, but also in contrast to or different from other confessions and religious traditions; the ‘others’. Laclau and Mouffe refer to mechanisms of identity construction as ‘the logic of difference’ and ‘the logic of equivalence’ (1985, pp. 127ff.). Group identities are based on being different from someone or something (e.g. indigenous vs. non-­indigenous, evangelicals vs. Catholics), and mobilisation of the group is based on this ‘equivalence’ of being different. This often leads to internal differences being ignored (Jørgensen and Phillips, 2002, pp.  44–5). In the religious context IELB and MAN-­B constructed their faith identity as different from the Catholic confession, different from other evangelical confessions, and in relation to Andean religiosity. In this religious landscape they negotiated which and when actions were perceived as good or acceptable cultural practices, and which and when practices were interpreted as religious and contrary to one’s own faith. As an ecumenically oriented church, IELB presented itself as part of the universal Church and did not have a strong anti-­Catholic discourse. They emphasised their contextual Lutheran identity as part of the community of evangelical churches yet distancing themselves from the prosperity gospel found among Pentecostal and neo-­Pentecostal churches. IELB representatives also on several occasions pointed to differences in approaches to the Bible and criticised conservatives’ literal, rather than contextual, interpretation. As an ‘indigenous church’ the Aymara culture was a central identity marker, and they emphasised that the Gospel needs to be interpreted in this particular context. Still, there was a tension and an attempt to distance themselves from at least part of the Andean spiritual practices. One of the leaders commented on how IELB related to Andean religiosity saying that conceptually ‘on a theological level we sometimes hold it separate, right’. In practice in the communities, he continued, people participate in different practices as ‘it seems that one learns to live together’ (Interview 16). In MAN-­B there was a stronger focus on distancing themselves from Catholicism and Andean spiritual practices. At the leadership level an ‘evangelical identity’ was contrasted with Catholicism, and MAN-­B did not work with Catholic churches. There was also a fairly strong, although not formalised, discourse and practice of distancing themselves from what was perceived as spiritual or religious practices of Andean communities. They were sceptical of the revival of

126   Unresolved tensions in faith-based development Andean religiosity seen in recent years. Alcohol consumption and practices related to Pachamama were particularly controversial. MAN-­B representatives’ ‘way of doing it’ was to leave or not participate in actions seen as contrary to their faith or established institutional practice. They cut the ribbon, defined as cultural and acceptable, but they do not break the bottle, considered a religious and unacceptable action. These questions and practices are at the heart of potential conflicts and distrust among faith-­based actors and communities. Not participating can be a hindrance to a sense of belonging and acceptance, seen both from the perspective of the individual operative staff as well as the community.

Faith-­based views of development Faith-­based identity was also constructed through the views of development expressed in IELB and MAN-­B. The actions of the institutions and the staff were situated as part of God’s mission to both proclaim and serve, which gave the work a horizon beyond the concrete objectives of development projects. Integral development was a dominating discourse that referred to a multisectoral approach, but it was mainly related to the integration of religion. It was operationalised in ways of acting and interacting, with a central focus on creating good relations with and participation of the community (Fairclough, 2014, p. 12). Religion had different functions in operative practices, as motivation and a source of values, but also as concrete means and methods. Some individual staff presented religion, in terms of church attendance or conversion, as goals for their development work. This brings to light unresolved tensions linked to instrumentalisation and illustrates that staff are not automatically or even primarily being ‘governed’ by formal strategies. However, the focus on relations and religion did not lead to a particular ‘alternative’ vision of development, as many scholars argue to be the case of many FBOs (see e.g. Bornstein, 2003; Jones and Petersen, 2011; Occhipinti, 2005). IELB and MAN-­B’s focus fitted well with human development approaches in international development. Their projects and methods were mainstream development projects concerned with meeting both rights and needs through infrastructure and capacity building. As expressed by Deneulin (2013), specific Christian perspectives on development share fundamental values with the human development paradigm: With its affirmation of the centrality of human dignity and respect for human rights, a Christian perspective on international development bears many similarities with what is known as the human development paradigm, publicized by the UNDP in its annual Human Development Reports and conceptually rooted in the works of Amartya Sen. (p. 58) The formal development views of IELB and MAN-­B are to a large degree decontextual and adopted from their international networks. This conclusion was

Unresolved tensions in faith-based development   127 also ­supported by interviewees who had followed the development of the institutions for years (Interviews 21 and 22). The formal documents and the institutionalised discourse of development confirmed a loyalty to the international development discourse, and there were few traits of recontextualisation (Fairclough, 2010, p. 368). The way individual staff members, on all levels, used and valued the suma qamaña discourse had little influence on institutional strategies and theological reflections. This is due to the loyalty to the international development network and their requirements and language, but also a consequence of the relation between the suma qamaña philosophy and Andean spirituality. In operative practices, however, the staff ’s close relation and identification with the communities are expressed in recognition of the resources, values and practices of the Aymara culture. In international development cooperation, also faith-­based, there has been a change from a focus on poverty and service delivery, towards reducing inequalities and advocating for justice (Dietrich et al., 2014; Freistein and Mahlert, 2016). In MAN-­B and IELB this discursive change could be seen in the formal documents’ emphasis on justice, yet there was a striking lack of such perspectives in practice. This was at least partly recognised by leaders in both IELB and MAN-­B, admitting that they were weak on advocacy work. Their projects included capacity training in rights, aiming at increased agency and autonomy for communities, with a particular focus on women. Yet I found few signs that the concrete projects challenged fundamental power structures in society. The emphasis was on creating good relations and on the inclusion of everyone. A strong emphasis on harmonic relations can be a way of suppressing underlying conflicts based in unjust power relations. While the formal discourses of diakonia and integral mission emphasised justice, the practice was marked by self-­ sacrificing service as the prevailing understanding of diaconal practice. The example of justice illustrates challenges connected to the operationalisation of institutional discourses, but more importantly it points to dilemmas of how to handle contentious issues of underlying power structures. On a strategic and theoretical level integral development for IELB and MAN-­B meant an integration of development and religious objectives. Their reflections on suma qamaña were marked by a dialogue with their own interpretations of the Bible and harmonised in line with this. The link between development and theological reflection was however quite general and idealistic. It referred to the horizon of God’s mission and the Kingdom of God on one hand, and to religion and spiritual needs as important for one’s quality of life on the other. They did not emphasise theological justifications for working with specific topics and in certain ways. The same was seen in the weekly devotions. In IELB, not least due to the Church president’s active intervention, development debates were legitimised as source of theological reflection. The use of theology as a resource to discuss particular issues, such as e.g. water projects, was however very limited in both IELB nor MAN-­B.2 Issue-­specific theological reflections were called for, as staff wanted more competence and space for reflections on e.g. gender and suma qamaña.

128   Unresolved tensions in faith-based development Theology was therefore not a frequently used strategic resource (Hardy et al., 2000) in the practical development work of IELB and MAN-­B. Weekly devotions in MAN-­B exposed contra-­productive interpretations, conflicting with the institutional theology of integral mission and diakonia. Daily challenges for the staff and the communities related to development were not an important part of the theological reflection. Hence, these ritual practices had the character of being parallel to development practices, and not integrated. They expressed constructions of non-­relationships between theological focus and the mission of MAN-­B as an evangelical development NGO. Development issues were left outside the realm of theology and became primarily questions of professional development theory. The way women’s role in churches was ignored also exemplifies similar processes of constructing non-­relationships and disintegrating the integral perspective. Integration and separation between religion and development were complex and context-­dependent processes in IELB and MAN-­B. The tension around and difficulty of separating ‘words’ from ‘deeds’ is a clear sign of this complexity. The pressure to avoid mixing evangelisation and development activities has been and continues to be strong in international development discourses, even though recent decades have shown increased acceptance of religion in general in development circles. The administrative separation in programs and secretariats, as well as the lack of theological arguments in reports and other documents, confirmed that this tension marked IELB and MAN-­B. Several of the staff presented such separation as the way to avoid proselytism or being perceived as favouring evangelical Christians and discriminating against others. This was not just a response to international guidelines, but also to susceptibilities in Andean communities. At the same time the way religious language was used in daily practices shows how integrated religion was for both the individual staff as well as the communities. Only a few of the staff pointed to scepticism from community members, and more dominant were the expectations that as Protestant institutions they would and should share the Word. Religious language was used, prayers uttered and the Bible was read. When do words become the Word? Individual staff members needed to draw the line for when activities became proselytism and when they were done to teach and inspire as part of integral development. Integral development theory is not a specific Christian topic or perspective, but covers different approaches aiming to integrate religion in the ways that development is understood and the means and methods of reaching it (see e.g. ter Haar, 2011). For MAN-­B and IELB, however, integral development was held to be an exclusively Christian perspective, and they aimed to include a Protestant religious understanding in their development efforts. On one hand their approach was limited compared to a broader vision emphasising all available religious resources. On the other hand, a Christian religious dimension can lead to a more profound understanding, an ‘added value’, if this is shared by the people involved. MAN-­B and IELB considered the faith and practices that come from their own religious tradition to be resources for a good life, while they to a large

Unresolved tensions in faith-based development   129 extent ignored or even distanced themselves from Andean religiosity as potential resources. They did value community practices, values and visions as long as they did not perceive them as religious. This might mean that they either ignored or refused potential religious resources that come from what they consider a different religious tradition than their own.

Influence and power Questions of power in international development have been broadly discussed in research and policy discussions (e.g. Escobar, [1984] 2010, [1995] ������������������� 2012; ������������ Ferguson, 2006; Gaventa, 2006; Moore, 1999). Attention to what and who influence the strategies of the institutions has also accompanied this book. IELB and MAN-­B were constituted by their relations to networks consisting of international contacts, communities, churches and local, regional and national authorities. International and national orders of discourses of religion and of development influenced their choices and ways of communicating, as did the particular political, social, religious and cultural contexts in which they were situated. The influence of the international network, particularly clear in the formal discourses, was both corrective as well as persuasive (Scott, 2001, pp. 12–16). The donors’ requirements for applications and reports were a means of corrective influence, as a failure to fulfil these obligations could cause less funding and threaten further cooperation. However, the partners’ persuasive influence and their ways of offering reasons for acting in certain ways, has had a stronger focus in my study. Shared cognitive meanings and value commitments are important in order to be able to influence people’s ways of acting (Scott, 2001, pp. 13–14). In IELB and MAN-­B meanings and values were based in both theology and development theory, expressed in ideas from ecumenical liberation theology, evangelical integral mission and the human development approach. The emergence and reception of the discourse of diakonia, an important part of both IELB and MAN-­B’s construction of distinctiveness, reveal the strong influence of international networks. This language was introduced by donor institutions such as LWF and the NMA, and there were few traits of a recontextualisation and appropriation of the discourse. It seemed to be either ‘imported’ more or less directly (MAN-­B) or left as a parallel and little used discourse at the margin (IELB). Instead, integral mission was presented as a Latin Amer­ican alternative which had more contextual relevance in IELB and was made a parallel to diakonia in MAN-­B. In IELB the contextual was highlighted as fundamental for their identity as Lutherans, while MAN-­B was less occupied with contextualising their discourses. The dominating institutional discourses were based on common values and cognitive meanings from theology and development theory, but not from the specific cultural context of the Bolivian Andes. In the operative practices the influence of the international networks was less visible and concrete. This is natural due to the distance and limited direct contact. Individual staff members constantly negotiate and interpret their loyalty to the ­official institutional strategies and the underlying influence of the international

130   Unresolved tensions in faith-based development partners, in actual situations encountered in their daily work. These negotiations are expressions of freedom (Foucault, 1982) and possible ways of resisting external directions that are not perceived contextually relevant or adequate to the situation. Communities influence the daily operative practices because IELB and MAN-­B depend on their trust to do their work and personal relationships are established between the staff and the community members. Personal qualities might cause persuasive influence (Scott, 2001, pp.  28–30) and the way of interacting marked by good personal relationships thus strengthens the possibility that staff might influence the community members. This is however a two-­way street and personal relations with community members also impact the staff ’s negotiations of ways of acting and ways of being. Power relations between the community and the operative staff need to be addressed with attention to shared values and symbols (Scott, 2001, p. 13) of the cultural context and Aymara identity. The staff members reflected on and used the discourse of suma qamaña on an individual basis, even though it had not been made part of an institutional debate or discourse. The suma qamaña philosophy was part of the identity of many of the staff, particularly on the operative level. Most of them were born in rural areas or in the immigrant city of El Alto and identified with the Aymara identity. The community members and their philosophy and values are hence shared by many of the staff in IELB and MAN-­B, and these shared values and cognitive symbols are the basis for the strong influence of the community. Conflictual relationships with Aymara philosophy were grounded in perceiving Andean religious practices in conflict with one’s own faith. The opinions on this in local churches vary, and the staff members were also influenced by these. While many evangelical community members consider practices directed towards Pachamama to be idolatry, many Catholics and ecumenically oriented Protestants might interpret them as contextual Christian theology.3 Most staff members in MAN-­B and IELB were also churchgoers, are personally engaged there and share cognitive meanings found in their local congregation. The theology of the local church and pastor thus influence how the staff negotiate their way of acting and way of being in the institutional operative setting. In the case of MAN-­B, were theological discussions were not encouraged, different interpretations were left unchallenged on the institutional level. In IELB the voice of the Church president can be seen as an attempt to govern and lead (Foucault, 1982) the Lutheran community and also the local churches and pastors. It might present a risk of weakening the voices that challenge the understanding of the leadership and reduce the room for sound and critical internal dialogue. Local, regional and national governments and indigenous authorities are also part of the networks that influence institutional strategies, relations I approached in a more indirect way and which would have deserved more attention. In documents and interviews this influence was more subtle than that of the community and the international network. The formal discourses in both IELB and MAN-­B referred to and related to the national development discourse of vivir bien and/or the political context, but this was given little attention in internal debates and the

Unresolved tensions in faith-based development   131 operative work. In the religious field the Morales government’s national politics of valuing and emphasising Andean religiosity and practices influenced the way both institutions presented their faith identity. For MAN-­B representatives it was important to distance themselves from interreligious practices promoted by the government. IELB participated in these events and settings, but with a critical attitude.

Broadening the scope of negotiations Every development institution, religious or secular, is constituted by its relations to people and places. I have argued that the faith-­based discourses and practices of development must be understood in light of the networks with which they connect, but also the particular social, political, religious and cultural contexts in which they are situated. Placed in crossroads were different identities, discourses and people meet, both faith-­based institutions and their staff have no choice but to negotiate. The three case studies I use in the following all make use of perspectives of negotiations, to different degrees and from varied angles. DeTemple (2012) explores how religion and development intersect in the ���������������������������������������������������������������� rural Bolívar region in Ecuador in the first decade of this millennium����������������������������������������������������������������������� , a context similar to the Bolivian Andes. She ���������������������������� extensively uses negotiation as a perspective to describe how community members encounter discourses of religion and development: The ways that people perceive and negotiate the discourses of religion and development as they have and do come together and break apart in their homes, communities, and national life are as vital and as varied as the discourses themselves. A careful attention to this negotiation displaces many of the common and disempowering tales of a hegemonic development invented, implemented, and analysed solely by (neo)colonial and secular West. (DeTemple, 2012, p. 10) The focus in DeTemple’s study is on the community members’ negotiations and how they actively engage with, modify and reject different discourses of religion and development in daily life. Occhipinti (2005) writes on another part of the Andes, the north-­western region of Argentina, in the late 1990s. She, as I, place the focus on a meso-­level and explores FBOs as actors and locations of negotiating religion and development. ‘NGOs may have an important role in negotiating between the “local” and the “global” visions of “development”, in the definition of poverty, the strategies chosen, and the cultural (sub)text of local projects’ (Occhipinti, 2005, p. 116). Bornstein’s (2003) ethnography is located in a very different context, Zimbabwe, in the middle of the 1990s. She also focuses on the level of Christian faith-­ based institutions, as Occhipinti and myself. Negotiations of staff are situated in the crossroads between local, national and international levels, as she analyses ‘the experiences of NGO workers as they engage with what are at times opposing

132   Unresolved tensions in faith-based development forces: the directives of international donors, the politics of the Zimbabwean state, and the desires of rural beneficiaries in Zimbabwe’ (Bornstein, 2003, p. 5). Exploring the different case studies together illustrate the global character of discourses of both development and Christianity and how these intersect with other discourses and contexts. In her study of World Vision and Christian Care in Zimbabwe, Bornstein (2003, pp. 45–53) identifies ‘theologies of development’ and analyses how these drew on discourses of evangelical holistic thinking and economic growth. The parallels with the theological thinking identified in my study point to the key influence of global discourses and international networks within faith-­based development, across both time and geographical contexts. The discourses are centred around the same or similar concepts such as ‘integral’ and ‘holistic’ and a theological understanding of Christian service connected to God’s love and a ‘life in abundance’. Bornstein traces the emergence of these theological ideas to the influence of North Amer­ican evangelicalism: ‘Such integrated, or holistic, development is an expression of evangelical holism, in which religion concerns itself with all aspects of life’ (Pieterse in Bornstein 2003, p.  48). The development work of World Vision was framed theologically, drew clearly on Chambers’s (1997) ideology of participatory development and added a spiritual dimension in World Vision’s promotion of transformational development ­(Bornstein, 2003, pp. 119–32).4 The transformational development discourse holds a strong position on a global level, not least in the evangelical Lausanne movement (Plant and Weiss, 2015). DeTemple’s study from rural Ecuador also supports the strong position of the global evangelical movement and the discourse of ‘whole person’ (DeTemple, 2012). She explores how discourses placed within the alternative development paradigm play out as both secular institutions (US Peace Corps) as well as Christian development actors, draw on its ideas. DeTemple argues that despite being named ‘alternative’ these discourses can be said to be part of the same ‘field of action that remains hierarchical and tied to colonialist power structures’, despite their attempts to reform these (2012, p.  86). ‘Integral’ approaches and the concept of ‘wholeness’ are part of alternative development discourses, she argues. In the US Peace Corps these ideas draw on dominant discourses of free market and individualism. The escape from poverty is an individual possibility and responsibility, and the aspect of inequality is rarely addressed (DeTemple, 2012, pp.  86–92). This exemplify how institutions are constituted by their network and the influence, in this case, of US politics and staff ’s cultural background. DeTemple shows how similar ideas of development and what she names ‘whole person thinking’, fit like a glove for many evangelical development actors: HCJB, like many evangelical development organizations, is interested in developing ‘whole persons’, that wholeness being defined as physical, spiritual, and psychological. For these organizations, in a way strikingly similar to the Peace Corps, ideal development is integrated development, one that seeks to create whole, educated, and connected individuals living in

Unresolved tensions in faith-based development   133 improved physical conditions that they themselves have created, and for which they themselves are responsible. (2012, pp. 92–3) Both secular and religious development actors circle their discourses around transformation of the whole person. For evangelical actors this includes a spiritual transformation through a personal relation to Christ, very similar to ideas found in IELB and MAN-­B (DeTemple, 2012, pp. 97–9). Transformation is also by DeTemple (2012) exposed as both a religious as well as development goal, often presented as inseparable and intertwined (p. 157). Bornstein (2003) and DeTemple (2012) convincingly describe the hegemonic role of international discourses of global evangelicalism and international development and how faith-­based actors are dominated by these. A question that remains unanswered is however the role of ‘subjugated’ discourses originating from the cultural context (Escobar, [1984] 2010). People in San Marcos are by DeTemple presented as powerful actors who skilfully and strategically negotiate, resist and accommodate ‘external’ discourses. Their roles as proposers of ‘alternative’ visions of development or religion are however not made explicit. ‘Outsiders’ come with the discourses at play, both theological and development discourses. Such cultural dimension is also downplayed in Bornstein’s search for development discourses (2003). The picture drawn is that international discourses on economic neo-­liberal development and Christian transformational development are dominating the field of faith-­based development work in Zimbabwe. Neither ‘indigenous’ theological interpretations, nor visions of development, are given any explicit attention. Transformational development and neo-­liberalism were surely, and in many cases continues to be, dominant in faith­based development work and might be described as hegemonic in line with Escobar’s critique ([1984] 2010, [1995] 2012). However, there is a ‘second step’ in Escobar’s approach, namely the presence of ‘subjugated discourses’ that challenge the dominant ones. Looking for such, religiously or not, in the Shona culture in Zimbabwe or the rural communities in Ecuador, would have added to the picture of the crossroads of discourses in which FBOs were placed. It would have identified counter-­discourses as forms and means of resistance (Scott, 2001, pp.  25–8) and illustrated subjects’ agency (Foucault, 1982) in a different way, when encountering foreign discourses.

The contextual cultural dimension I believe that emphasising the cultural dimension, exploring cultural identities and perceptions of the good life and spirituality, provide a deeper insight into the complex processes of negotiation in faith-­based development. The concept of ‘community’, important in all the four ethnographic studies, serves as an illustration of different ways of approaching the cultural dimension. Community is a key term in discourses of both religion and of development on a global level. Bornstein (2003) and DeTemple (2012) both analyse how ‘community’ is constructed and

134   Unresolved tensions in faith-based development given particular meanings when framed in theological and development discourses (Bornstein, 2003, pp. 120–9; DeTemple, 2012, pp. 129–61). Religious and development institutions are dependent on communities as meaningful categories and an actual social cohesion of people. ‘Like development organizations that require proof of a cohesive community in order to fund and construct projects such as the seedbeds in Sinche, religious organizations also look for unity and cooperation as a prerequisite for creating permanent structures’, DeTemple writes (2012, p. 156). Bornstein also argues that in World Vision ‘community’ is understood both in light of participatory development and framed religiously: ‘In participatory development, the idea of community is teleological. Community is both the target of development and its hoped-­for result. In Christian development, the term alludes to religious ideas of community, communion, and communitas’ (2003, p.  125). The importance of constructed ideas of community, both framed religiously and as the main actor of development, is revealed in a convincing way by Bornstein and DeTemple. They do however not analyse explicitly how this connects with cultural categories of community in the local settings, as collective identities that existed independently from and prior to encounters with global discourses of Christianity and participatory development. How do these ‘external’ ways of constructing communities cross with those defined by for example ethnicity, language, customs and/or geographical boundaries? In Occhipinti (2005) and my own analysis the category of community is primarily based in the way Andean rural areas have been, and in many cases still are, organised into indigenous and rural communities, comunidades. The idea of community in the Andes is not least related to the ayllu, the ‘ethnic unity of the rural communities’ (Estermann, 2006, p. 220), based on the social organisation and systems of reciprocity existing prior to the Spanish colonisation. A strong communal thinking in indigenous traditions in the Andes is promoted as the ideal way of living in community and living well. These are important ideas found among indigenous authorities and organisations, for example in the discourse of suma qamaña. Bolivia has seen a revival of collective thinking based on indigenous philosophies also on the political level, with the 2009 Constitution and increased autonomic rights for indigenous groups and communities. Both Occhipinti (2005) and I discuss how the heterogeneity of the religious landscape, and visions and practices of development from the ‘outside’, at times pose challenges for what is presented as united rural communities. Evangelical Christianity has in many cases split communities or created tensions around participation in community practices that had been constitutive to the community identity (DeTemple, 2012, pp. 157–60; Occhipinti, 2005, p. 103). Development visions and practices oriented towards economic growth were by OCLADE and Fundapaz in Argentina seen as threatening fundamental indigenous values and traditions (Occhipinti, 2005, pp. 99–102). In the contemporary situation in both the Argentinian and Bolivian part of the Andes, the faith-­based institutions frequently described communities as marked by individualistic interests and poor moral standard. Occhipinti (2005) and I explore how OCLADE, Fundapaz, MAN-­B and IELB all presented their role in assisting communities in recuperating

Unresolved tensions in faith-based development   135 the ‘real’ indigenous communities, marked by solidarity and equality. Christianity was a means to promote positive values that would contribute to a united community. Approaching the category of ‘community’ both from an ‘internal’ cultural meaning in the context, as well as the way it is constructed in ‘external’ religious and development discourses, would have complemented the pictures presented by Occhipinti (2005), DeTemple (2012), Bornstein (2003) and myself. The determinant factor of the context in which the faith-­based development actors are placed is also clear looking at the ways theological discourses are combined with particular visions of development. I have argued that the global discourse of transformational development was a common influence found in my own and Bornstein’s case studies. However, the combinations with different discourses of development make the focus of the faith-­based development discourses strikingly different, and to some extent contradictory. In World Vision the holistic dimension and the centrality of the personal relations with Christ was combined with a clear focus on economic development. The dominant neo-­ liberal thinking within development organisations globally at the time, and the close relation to capitalism in USA, dominated the view on development. It resulted in a faith-­based discourse that connected leading ‘evangelical Christian lives’ with economic success, and religion was a tool to promote individual economic growth (Bornstein, 2003). This was far from the result of the evangelical discourse in IELB and MAN-­B in Bolivia nearly two decades later. The global development community was dominated by the human development approach and the paradigm of alternative development. The Bolivian national political and cultural context was marked by a strong anti-­capitalist rhetoric and increased appreciation of indigenous peoples’ views of a good life based on solidarity equity and care for nature. Economic growth was only a means in the development process towards for example health, equality or women’s rights, but never lifted as the main goal by IELB and MAN-­B. Money was even framed theologically as a hindrance for a close relation with God, as opposed to a sign of a good relation. Such comparison underlines the need to contextualise – ­geographically, timewise, politically and culturally – the negotiation processes of religion and development.

The heterogeneity of Christianity To understand negotiations in faith-­based development I argue that one must approach networks and theologies as heterogeneous. On a global level evangelical Christianity, with its different denominations and contextual features, is increasingly becoming expressed in public life. The ecumenical movement, also a heterogeneous group of churches and institutions, is often placed in the shadow of evangelicalism in the scholarly debate on religion and development. I concluded that these two networks of global Protestant Christianity influenced IELB and MAN-­B and contributed to their distinctiveness and difference. Bornstein (2003) provides us with a solid description of the difference between global evangelicalism and ecumenism, their origin, network and their theological focus.

136   Unresolved tensions in faith-based development While Christian Care Zimbabwe, as IELB, was part of the ecumenical network connected with the WCC, Bornstein presents them as holding the same evangelical theology as World Vision (2003, pp.  17–24). There are no strict boundaries between these two theological currents, as I also show through my case studies. However, to distinguish faith identities, it is fruitful to place theological discourses according to differences between evangelicalism and ecumenism. I am not convinced that Christian Care Zimbabwe was just as influenced by North Amer­ican evangelicalism as World Vision. As part of a global network as the WCC, with considerable influence of liberation theology and other ‘Third World theologians’ and churches,5 I would be surprised if the attitudes towards Shona traditions and practices as well as interpretations of the Kingdom of God, were just the same. The Protestant ecumenical movement share many of the theological approaches and perspectives as Catholic liberation theology. Both are marked by an emphasis on and theological justification of social and political work and a more positive relation with different cultural traditions. DeTemple (2012) exposes how liberation theology, even though it is not referred to by name, influences how people think and practise faith-­based development in a cooperative driven cheese factory in Ecuador (pp.������������������������������������������  ����������������������������������������� 154–5). The influence of liberation theology in Occhipinti’s study from Argentina is even more obvious. OCLADE and Fundapaz are presented as promotors of indigenous cultures, of communities as theological actors and of indigenous peoples’ liberation from an oppressive capitalist society (Occhipinti, 2005, pp.  197–210). Liberation theology provides a theological justification for valuing the ‘indigenous’ and the critique of capitalism and neo-­liberal policies. Occhipinti describes many of the same values as distinguished in MAN-­B and IELB, with the community as the main entity, a promotion of their culture and economy as only the means to an end. Human well-­being, in accordance with the communities’ own desires and visions, is the main objective of the faith-­based development work. Indigenous community values are by OCLADE and Fundapaz presented as compatible with Christian values (Occhipinti, 2009, p.  207). The indigenous ways of living presented by Occhipinti in the Argentinian Andes and the suma qamaña discourse in the Bolivian Andes, are important contributors to dialogues around faith and development. Occhipinti points to the fundamental role of the relation to culture as constitutive for the faith-­based development work: There can be little doubt that the ways in which NGOs conceive of the cultures in which they work have a tremendous impact on their work. This conception shapes how the organization understands the causes of poverty, as well as its vision of the future. It influences not only personal relationships between NGO staff and community members, but the kind of programs that the NGO implements. (2009, p. 206) As I have argued, the way IELB and MAN-­B relate to the Andean cultural context does not just impact their visions and practices of development, but also

Unresolved tensions in faith-based development   137 how they construct an identity as faith-­based through identifying ‘the others’ related to religious traditions. The overall picture reading the four case studies together illustrate the influence of the evangelical and ecumenical or liberation discourses in Christian development work (Plant and Weiss, 2015). An evangelical holistic discourse was dominant in MAN-­B in Bolivia, World Vision in Zimbabwe and among different FBOs in Ecuador, while liberation theology was extensively drawn on in OCLADE in Argentina, IELB in Bolivia and a Catholic cooperative in Ecuador. However, all authors also point to how theology and development are disputed internally in each institution. Although not digging into detail to the same extent as I have, Bornstein discusses how ‘faith was diversely interpreted within World Vision’ (2003, p. 62), and many of the staff struggled with the idea of evangelism promoted in formal strategies. Focusing on the heterogeneity of different Christian discourses and networks, but also the variation of theological interpretation within each of these, is in my opinion key to the understanding of complex and dynamic processes of constructing faith-­based identities. How religion is intertwined and used in struggles of power comes to the surface looking at the open or underlying conflicts between different Christian confessions. In my own study it was apparent that there were internal tensions between evangelicalism and Catholicism. Leaders in MAN-­B were particularly sceptical towards Catholicism, as this confession was not seen to provide space for an ‘personal relationship with Christ’. A striking parallel can be found in Bornstein’s analysis of World Vision in Zimbabwe. She describes how promoting an ‘evangelical identity’ was a key part of the organisation’s development work, through outwards evangelisation and an internal focus on staff ’s personal faith commitment. She quite clearly concludes that in the main office in Harare ‘faith became a moral standard by which employees judged each other’ (Bornstein, 2003, p. 58). The internal culture was marked by ritual faith practices such as prayer and devotions and a focus on the staff ’s personal relation with Christ (Bornstein, 2003, pp.  58–65). As in MAN-­B, World Vision hired staff from many denominations, but clearly promoted evangelicalism as their ‘institutional ideology’ (Bornstein, 2003, p.  21). Just as I placed MAN-­B in networks with both the evangelical Lausanne movement as well as closely connected to evangelical churches at a local level, Bornstein shows similar connections in her study. FBOs are institutions placed in between and marked by individual staff ’s personal faith and relations to local churches, and global discourses and networks of Christianity. The institutions are spaces for negotiations and handling of tensions in this heterogeneous field. Individual staff must manoeuvre in this field based on personal convictions, professionality and institutional structures.

Negotiating boundaries Relations to people of other religious and theological traditions mark the operative practices of faith-­based development work and represent contentious issues shared across different contexts. Underlying this are attitudes of what is considered as the

138   Unresolved tensions in faith-based development ‘right’ faith and how and if this is a condition for development. In World Vision Zimbabwe there was a fundamental link between evangelical faith and economic success. This hybrid of an evangelical lifestyle and economic prosperity was a faith-­based discourse of development that confronted traditional practices and beliefs in Zimbabwe. A traditional cultural interpretation of economic success was that it caused negative reactions from the spiritual world, identified by Bornstein as ‘witchcraft’. World Vision did not just offer opportunities for economic development but reframed it in an evangelical theological discourse that contradicted religious traditions in the context. Evangelical faith commitment was by many seen as making them ‘immune’ to witchcraft, a motivating force to change as a ‘whole person’, and as providing a religious legitimation of economic success (Bornstein, 2003, pp. 141–67). World Vision’s discourse and practice, Bornstein (2003) argues, is based on a double distinction between evangelised/developed and non-­evangelised/undeveloped (p. 46). As I exposed, IELB and MAN-­B portrayed a more complex picture where indigenous values and practices in many cases were lifted as development ideals contrary to economic growth and degradation of the environment. In other cases, cultural or religious practices were presented as hindrances to development, such as alcohol consumption. One example that clearly shows how World Vision staff negotiate between cultural, religious and professional aspects of identity is a bookkeeper’s story. Selected by his community to be the bookkeeper of a World Vision project, he was later attacked by a demon. He explained his own situation in line with traditional spiritual beliefs, but also in connection with his Christian faith. The demon was combatted by a traditional healer, a n’anga, but the healer was empowered by Jesus due to his own and other colleagues in World Vision’s prayer (Bornstein, 2003, pp.  142–5). The story illustrates the multiple aspects of identities of staff members belonging to the cultural context in which they work, and at the same time being part of an institution with a formal faith-­based identity. Not only was the bookkeeper part of the Shona culture and working at World Vision, but he was also a Catholic. From this position he negotiated between three different religious tradition, Catholicism, Shona spirituality and evangelical Christianity, which were all part of his daily life in one way or another. His actions were however not accepted by all, and Bornstein (2003) narrates how a field officer in World Vision ‘acknowledged that it had happened but expressed concern that he had gone to a n’anga for assistance. God, the Christian God, was where Christian NGO workers were supposed to turn for assistance’ (p.�������������������������������������������  ������������������������������������������ 145). According to the institutional evangelical interpretation in World Vision, neither Shona practices nor the Catholics’ acceptance of them, were appreciated. The bookkeeper handled the situation by drawing on different religious traditions, a way of negotiating that was not seen as according to the institutional identity by World Vision leaders. For Zimbabwean Christians in Christian Care and World Vision, the spirits of the Shona culture did exist and were real beliefs in the communities. ‘Some explained the situation as a dichotomy of spiritual realms, pitting those on the side of Mwari (God; vadzimu or ancestral spirits were commonly classified in this realm), against those on the side of Satan (zvishiri and zvidoma)’ (Bornstein, 2003, p. 147).

Unresolved tensions in faith-based development   139 A contradiction to such polarisation between the spiritual traditions, found at the headquarters, can be found in the way different traditions coexist both in communities’ work as well as in persons’ identity. Another of Bornstein’s stories illustrates this. A community representative, member of the Salvation Army, simultaneously held and made use of powers connected with traditional Shona spirituality (Bornstein, 2003, p. 153). This serves as an example of a more ecumenical, or maybe primarily pragmatic, approach to different culture and religious traditions. The director of the Zimbabwean Council of Churches expressed a similar approach: ‘Placed in the category of “culture”, traditional beliefs were aspects of faith to be integrated into Christian ways of life’ (Bornstein, 2003, p.  54). The Church Council recognised the religious dimension of traditional practices and ‘did not want to violate’ but to respect them, Bornstein writes. In Latin America tensions between evangelicals and Catholics mark the religious landscape, as described also by DeTemple (2012, pp.  1; 157–8) in Ecuador, and Occhipinti (2005, p.  103) in Argentina. These conflicts are not least related to how relationships between religion and development are constructed in community practices. Evangelicals criticise Catholics for alcohol consumption as well as the practices of worshipping saints, while the critique the other way is concerned with evangelical churches being ‘closed’ to community participation and condemning local customs as pagan. Occhipinti’s description of the ‘Pachamama worship’, what I described as challa, confirms the widespread impact of Andean spiritual practices. She argues how the Catholic Church in the area consider this practice as a cultural symbol of ethnic identity and does not frame it as a religious practice stemming from a different religious tradition. ‘The Church’s attention to pachamama ceremonies’, she writes, ‘seems to value it as a visible cultural symbol, but not as a genuine religious practice’ (Occhipinti, 2005, p.  105). This is parallel to how individual staff frame community practices as either cultural or as religious, depending on their own negotiations. It is also similar to the deconstruction of the spiritual and religious dimension in the suma qamaña discourse, found in IELB and MAN-­B as well as in Bolivian politics. Occhipinti (2005) mainly describes the negotiations on an institutional level as Catholic Church, without asking whether individual church representatives or Catholic laypeople agree with these distinctions. I indeed trust her description of the dominant discourse of the Church and NGOs, yet I am left wondering whether there are contradictory discourses at play simultaneously. Looking particularly for these could reveal whether the personal cultural identity as an indigenous or ‘outsider’, as well as one’s theological position on the scale of ecumenical/liberal or conservative in Catholicism, impact how individuals negotiate these questions. The separation between ‘words’ and ‘deeds’ is a key tension in my study and a contentious debate in research, policy and praxis of international development. DeTemple’s (2012) study exposes a complex picture of attempting to draw boundaries between religion and development, an idea she links with European ‘modernity’. She argues convincingly that nothing, not even ‘cement things’ are inherently neutral or ‘modern’ in the context of San Marcos. Earthworms as a

140   Unresolved tensions in faith-based development tool for community development can, as one of the farmers made her aware of, be ‘evangelical’. They can be framed in a secularised view of development as independent from religion, as in DeTemple’s own mind when the farmer asked if she was evangelical. The farmer, however, wondered if the earthworms were a tool used to convert him and the rest of the community to evangelical Christianity (DeTemple, 2012, p. 1). Seven years later, again ‘up to my elbows in earthworms’, DeTemple describes how the earthworms are indeed to be handed over to an evangelical development project, with the double aim of community development and conversion to a ‘Protestant understanding of salvation through a personal relationship with Jesus Christ’ (2012, p.  197). As Lincoln (2003, p.  5) describes, everything can be coded as sacred through religious discourses, and DeTemple (2012) narrates how things, practices and discourses of development are often coupled with religion. Faith-­based institutions like MAN-­B and IELB, or missionary organisations in Ecuador, strategically frame their development work theologically. DeTemple’s (2012) study clearly demonstrates that despite the institution’s attempts to govern (Foucault, 1982) the minds of their staff and the communities with which they work, they are faced with individuals’ negotiating power. Sometimes their integral thinking is well received, while being resisted or rejected in other situations. The Protestant or secular earthworms in DeTemple’s (2012) narrative point to the tension between religious and development objectives in faith-­based development work. In World Vision Zimbabwe the double agenda of economic growth and a personal relationship with Jesus Christ is openly communicated through the discourse of holism and lifestyle evangelism. Bornstein (2003) describes how she in formal strategies and operative practices saw Christianity ‘incorporated into the development objectives of the NGOs. Faith became the motivation and meaning for the development work, providing logic for its expression’ (p. 53). Despite this integration of religious and development goals, World Vision, as IELB and MAN-­B, attempted to separate between ‘words’ and ‘deeds’ administratively. They had separate budgets for ‘Christian witnessing’ and an ‘evangelism committee’ composed by members of local churches working to engage churches in development projects (Bornstein, 2003, p.  55). These arrangements are a striking parallel to MAN-­B. Again, it becomes clear that framing and naming different practices matter. Witnessing was distinguished from evangelism, and evangelism as cooperation with churches was differentiated from what Bornstein calls ‘lifestyle evangelism’ as a calling and expectance towards all World Vision staff. While the evangelism committee trained church members in evangelisation, the philosophy of ‘lifestyle evangelism’ was to introduce people to Christianity through ‘deeds’ and not ‘words’ (Bornstein, 2003, pp. 52–3). The way of working in and with communities was a way of leading people to evangelical Christianity, following the example of Jesus. The blurred boundaries I have pointed to in my own study is also obvious in World Vision. One of the leaders in Harare illustrated this when he presented the institutional mission ‘to follow Jesus Christ and to encourage others to follow him – whether it’s in the drilling of a borehole, we can relate that to scripture and we can also

Unresolved tensions in faith-based development   141 challenge people to follow Jesus in that way’ (Bornstein, 2003, p.  51). The framing of the drilling of a borehole in a religious meaning depend on the use of religious words. If a borehole drilled by World Vision is to be ‘different from a borehole drilled by any other organisation’ (Bornstein, 2003, p. 50), ‘words’ and ‘deeds’ are inseparable. I am not arguing for abandoning guidelines trying to distinguish between proselytism, with an explicit aim of conversion, and development actions aimed at securing every person’s rights. I am rather seeking an awareness of such separations as always results of constructions through negotiations. Institutional strategies and guidelines delimit the possible actions of the individual staff, but they will never have the final, and maybe not even the strongest, say when decisions are taken in daily situations. When words are used, which words and connected to what practice cannot be controlled, no matter how dominant a discourse might be.

Notes 1 Jones and Petersen’s (2011) critique of instrumentalist approaches and my response to this was presented in Chapter 2. 2 An exception is a concluded project in eco-­theology, which clearly combined theological reflection with concrete actions. 3 The great majority of community members identify as either Catholics or evangelicals, although in recent years it has become more common to identify as belonging to an Andean indigenous religion and resist all forms of Christianity. 4 I mainly use World Vision as an example, as most of the empirical data presented by Bornstein is taken from this. 5 From the 1960s, in line with international debates on the ‘Third World’ as an alliance of non-­allied in global politics and the demand for a new economic world order, the role of theologians and theologies situated in the Global South was moved up the agenda in the ecumenical movement (Parrat, 2004).

References Bornstein, E. (2003). The Spirit of Development: Protestant NGOs, Morality, and Economics in Zimbabwe. New York: Routledge. Chambers, R. (1997). Whose Reality Counts? Putting the First Last. London: Intermediate Technology Publications. Deneulin, S. (2013). Christianity and International Development. In Clarke, M. (ed.), Handbook of Research on Development and Religion (pp.  51–65). Cheltenham/­ Northampton, MA: Edward Elgar. DeTemple, J. (2012). Cement, Earthworms and Cheese Factories: Religion and Community Development in Rural Ecuador. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame. Dietrich, S., Korslien, K. K., Nordstokke, K. and Jørgensen, K. (2014). Introduction. Diakonia as Christian Social Practice. In Dietrich et al. (eds.). Diakonia as Christian Social Practice: An Introduction (pp. 1–9). Oxford: Regnum Books International. Escobar, A. ([1984] 2010). Discourse and Power in Development: Michel Foucault and the Relevance of His Work to the Third World. In International Development, edited by Sage (pp. 175–94). London: Sage.

142   Unresolved tensions in faith-based development Escobar, A. ([1995] 2012). Encountering Development: The Making and Unmaking of the Third World. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Estermann, J. (2006). Filosofía andina. Sabiduría indígena para un mundo nuevo. La Paz:  Fairclough, N. (2010). Critical Discourse Analysis: The Critical Study of Language. Harlow: Longman. Fairclough, N. (2014). Critical Discourse Analysis. In Gee, J. P. and Handford, M. (eds.), The Routledge Handbook of Discourse Analysis (pp.  9–20). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Ferguson, J. (2006). The Anti-­Politics Machine. In Sharma, A. and Gupta, A. (eds.), The Anthropology of the State: A Reader (pp. 270–86). Malden: Blackwell. Foucault, M. (1982). The Subject and Power. Critical Inquiry 8(4), 777–95. www.jstor. org/stable/1343197 Freistein, K. and Mahlert, B. (2016). The Potential for Tackling Inequality in the Sustainable Development Goals. Thirld World Quarterly 37(12), 2139–55. Gaventa, J. (2006). Finding the Spaces for Change: A Power Analysis. IDS Bulletin 37(6), 23–33. Hardy, C., Palmer, I. and Phillips, N. (2000). Discourse as a Strategic Resource. Human Relatations 53(9), 1227–48. Jones, B. and Petersen, M. J. (2011). Instrumental, Narrow, Normative? Reviewing Recent Work on Religion and Development. Third World Quarterly 32(7), 1291–306. https://doi.org/10.1080/01436597.2011.596747 Jørgensen, M. W. and Phillips, L. (2002). Discourse Analysis as Theory and Method. London: Sage. Laclau, E. and Mouffe, C. (1985) Hegemony and Socialist Strategy. Towards a Radical Democratic Politics. London: Verso. Lincoln, B. (2003). Holy Terrors: Thinking About Religion After September 11. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Moore, D. S. (1999). The Crucible of Cultural Politics: Reworking ‘Development’ in Zimbabwe’s Eastern Highlands. Amer­ican Ethnologist 26(3), 654–88. Occhipinti, L. (2005). Acting on Faith: Religious Development Organizations in Northwestern Argentina. Oxford: Lexington Books. Occhipinti, L. (2009). Faith, Hope, Charity: Catholic Development Organizations in Argentina. In Hefferan, T., Adkins, J. and Occhipinti, L. (eds.). Bridging the Gaps. Faith-Based Organizations, Neoliberalism, and Development in Latin America and the Caribbean (pp. 197–212). Plymouth: Lexington Books. Parrat, J. (ed.) (2004). An Introduction to Third World Theologies. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Plant, S. and Weiss, D. H. (2015). Theology and Development. Christian and Jewish Approaches. In Tomalin, E. (ed.) The Routledge Handbook of Religions and Global Development (pp. 53–67). Abingdon, Oxon./New York: Routledge. Scott, J. (2001). Power. Cambridge: Polity Press. ter Haar, G. (ed.) (2011). Religion and Development: Ways of Transforming the World. London: Hurst.

9 Conclusion Negotiations and contentions of religion and development

Introduction I have throughout this book explored relationships of religion and development as constructed in complex and multifaceted processes on institutional and individual levels. In faith-­based institutions such processes are fruitfully approached as negotiations between a theological frame of interpretation and theories of human development; between their own identity as a professional and/or as a believer and their cultural background; between different religious traditions at local, regional and international levels; and between institutional structures and individual agency. Based on the discussions of my case studies from Bolivia, as well as other research I have engaged with in this book, I suggest points to a research agenda that addresses relationships between religion and development as negotiations. These inputs are also relevant for policymakers and practitioners in faith-­based development, particularly in contexts marked by Christianity. The first point is to recognise unresolved tensions as an indispensable part of faith-­based development. It might seem obvious, but as Jones and Petersen (2011) have pointed out, much research and policy debates have been normatively biased in their argumentation for religion as either ‘good’ or ‘bad’ for development. Tensions might be downplayed, underestimated or even subjected to attempts of being ‘solved’. Dilemmas and contentions are just as much a part of secular development work, but as this book has outlined, some questions are exclusive to or particular to faith-­based work. I have painted a nuanced picture of how religion can be both a hindrance as well as a contributor to different development goals, and even play both roles simultaneously. Similar unresolved tensions and contentious issues are found in faith-­based development work on a global level, but they take on specific characteristics in distinct places and at different times. Conflicts and differences should, I argue, not be addressed as inherently negative, but as possible productive sources for increased reflection and improved praxis. Second, tensions between formal strategies and the operational practices of institutions call for a ������������������������������������������������������������� focus on institutional identity as constructed through operative practices. ����������������������������������������������������������������� Formal institutional strategies might influence, but never determine, the outcome of negotiations. Researchers and policymakers have had a

144   Conclusion strong focus on formal aspects of faith-­based development work, while I have argued for the key role of the day-­to-day negotiations. The operational practice and its consequences depend on individuals’ interpretations and mediations. They are influenced by institutional structures such as discourses, leaders, formal documents and colleagues, but exercise agency through negotiations in concrete encounters with community members and situations. Hence, the role, competence and dilemmas of staff members as negotiators must be in focus to understand the dynamic field of faith-­based development. Third, approaching Christianity as a heterogeneous field of theological interpretations provides a deeper understanding of connections between religion and development in Christian development work. Different theological discourses compete to frame aspects of the world in a religious meaning, on institutional as well as on global levels. I have particularly emphasised the impact of the global evangelical discourse of transformational development and ecumenical liberation theology on faith-­based development. Theological interpretations operate as assumptions guiding people’s perceptions and actions, but theology can also be used as a strategic resource. It might empower the development action and goal, as illustrated by several of the weekly devotions in IELB. Theology can also be constructed as non-­related with development practices, as in the majority of the devotions in MAN-­B. I argue for the importance of including theology as theory and practice to understand the dynamic construction of and negotiations between religion and development. Theological interpretations are embedded in local religious and cultural systems. This requires attention to the cultural dimension, which is my fourth input to a research agenda. As the discussion in the previous chapter revealed, the embodiment of global discourses of religion and development in local contexts in Ecuador, Zimbabwe, Argentina and Bolivia was defined by the encounter with different political and cultural contexts. An emphasis on the cultural context and the different understandings of development and religion found there, balances the frequently argued hegemonic power of Western development actors. The analysis becomes more balanced and enriching when communities and persons in different places at certain times are approached as actors with strategic negotiating power. Attention to the cultural dimension also enables the exploration of how borders between ‘culture’ and ‘religion’ are drawn in different contexts. Global theological discourses intersect with different religious landscapes and spiritual traditions, resulting in specific contextual interpretations. A contentious question on a global level is what can be accepted as part of Christian faith and what should be defined and resisted as belonging to other religious traditions. My fifth concern is to argue for a recognition and acceptance of instrumentalisation as unavoidable in faith-­based development work. The objectives involved may be mainly related to religion or to development, but they are often intertwined. I have argued that when churches and theology are part of development work they will play shifting roles as means or goals for development. In MAN-­B development projects were used to change the theology of the churches, and

Conclusion   145 simultaneously local churches were used as strategic partners to reach development objectives. This is closely linked to the debate on the separation between proclamation and development actions. From my epistemological standpoint, it is impossible to separate between religion and development in a way that draws up clear borders between ‘words’ and ‘deeds’. The understanding of integral mission and diakonia in MAN-­B and IELB included both proclamation and service, and the religious was an integrated part of their perceptions of a good life and a just society. I question whether the fear of instrumentalisation of either religion or of development is productive. Recognising that objectives are often both related to development as well as religion in one way or another, might increase reflection on which goals are legitimate in light of both, and how religious and development practices can contribute to reaching these. When religious and development goals collide, choices need to be made according to a normative position of what counts the most. Sixth, I argue for the need to approach faith-­based development with attention to power dynamics. In my study, I made use of both ethnographic methods and discourse analysis to address influences on discourses and practices on an institutional and individual level. I argue that this methodological approach enabled me to disclose the dynamic negotiations of power, where individual agency is fundamental and yet limited by structural features. Power analysis of international development should not be guided primarily by assumptions of hegemonic Western actors and system features but seek to identify ‘subjugated discourses’ (Escobar, [1984] 2010) and individuals’ agency in resisting, adapting and mediating ‘external’ discourses as well as proposing and promoting ‘alternatives’. This is indispensably linked to the cultural dimension discussed above. The seventh and last point on my list is the need to approach constructions of non-­relationships between religion and development as important in negotiation processes. In my own study, I focused mainly on how IELB and MAN-­B constructed relationships between Christian theologies and visions of development. I however also pointed to constructions of non-­relations going on simultaneously. The administrative arrangements, international guidelines and the messages in the majority of MAN-­B’s weekly devotions were examples of processes of constructing religion and development as non-­related. Parts of indigenous spiritualities and practices were by some constructed as non-­related to positive change but got back into the picture related with negative development trends. Different theological interpretations of gender relations were in MAN-­B negotiated by ignoring an integral focus and exclude women’s role in churches from their agenda. DeTemple’s study (2012) clearly demonstrates processes where an integral perspective is often embraced and welcomed while in other moments rejected, by Ecuadorians encountering faith-­based strategies of development. Approaching constructs of religion and development as relationships as well as non-­relationships expose the key role of individuals’ power and institutional interests as dynamic and strategic processes of negotiation. It should go without saying that my proposed list for a research agenda on negotiating religion and development is not exhaustive. It reveals new questions

146   Conclusion and gaps to address and can hopefully inspire further research driving towards a better understanding of relations of religion and development. One of the dimensions that I did not look deeply into in my own case studies in Bolivia was the impact of local, regional and national governments on these constructions. This dimension would also more directly have addressed the impact of, adaption to and resistance to neo-­liberal ideas and policies in Latin America. Another avenue of further research would aim at a more profound understanding of the negotiation processes in operative practices. This would require a different methodological approach, with more extensive observation of the operational practices and interpretations of what is said and done. A third suggestion for further studies, which would provide insight into relations of religion and development, is to apply similar methodological and analytical focus to explore non-­religious NGOs and how they construct relations or non-­relations of religion and development. I started this book with an experience from El Alto, where a pastor and director of an evangelical NGO chose a theological focus that contradicted the message of the activities on the day for children’s rights. What reasons he had for this way of acting remains an unanswered question. Did he interpret his own message to be in line with promoting children’s rights, or did he see it as necessary to complement or contradict these rights by emphasising parents’ and God’s authority? Did he reflect on any link between his theological message and the actual event at which he spoke, or did he construct a non-­relationship between his faith and the development activity? While this book has suggested ways in which to better understand relationships of religion and development, the story of the pastor in El Alto is a reminder that the task of making sense of the dynamic, multifaceted, complex and contentious field of faith-­based development work is far from being a closed chapter.

References DeTemple, J. (2012). Cement, Earthworms and Cheese Factories: Religion and Community Development in Rural Ecuador. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame. Escobar, A. ([1984] 2010). Discourse and Power in Development: Michel Foucault and the Relevance of His Work to the Third World. In International Development, edited by Sage (pp. 175–94). London: Sage. Jones, B. and Petersen, M. J. (2011). Instrumental, Narrow, Normative? Reviewing Recent Work on Religion and Development. Third World Quarterly 32(7), 1291–306. https://doi.org/10.1080/01436597.2011.596747

Appendix Interviews in Bolivia, 2011–12

Code

Year

Place

Institution

Level

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27

2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2012 2011 2011 2011 2011

Chinchaya Sorata Cheje Chinchaya Sorata Aguas Blancas La Paz Aguas Blancas Sorata El Alto Sorata La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz La Paz

MAN-­B MAN-­B MAN-­B MAN-­B MAN-­B IELB IELB IELB MAN-­B MAN-­B MAN-­B IELB IELB IELB IELB IELB MAN-­B MAN-­B MAN-­B MAN-­B

Community Community Community Community Community Operative Operative Operative Operative Operative Operative Leader Leader Leader Leader Leader Leader Leader/operative Leader Leader Academic/external Academic/external Pastor/external Leader Leader Leader Leader

MAN-­B MAN-­B IELB MAN-­B

Index

Aguas Blancas 17, 102–4, 111 Albo, X. 32–3, 35, 38–9 alcohol consumption 103, 115–16, 126, 139; in spiritual practices 106, 115–16, 126; see also challa alternative development 20, 132; see also empowerment; right-based approach (RBA) andean philosophy 38–41, 43n8; and gender 120–1; see also world view ANDEB 51, 79 aymara: Aymara church 49, 59–60, 125; identity 130–1; group and culture 2, 22, 47, 52, 95, 102–3; language 5, 37, 42; values 113–18 Bano, M. 14–16 Bolivia’s Constitution 2009 5, 33–4, 43n11; on development 37–8; on religion 36 Bolivia’s ‘process of change’ 31–6, 42, 99 Bornstein, E. 4, 131–41 Catholicism: in Argentina 4, 139; in Bolivia 34–5, 115; in communities 103, 106, 108, 111; in IELB 125; in MAN-B 54, 56–7, 125, 137; tensions with evangelicalism 56–7, 138–9; see also liberation theology cement things 7, 104, 122n3, 139–40; see also materialisation Centro de Capacitación Misionera (CCM) 51, 79 challa 106, 115–16, 118, 139 Chambers, R. 19, 20, 132 Cheje 102–4, 110, 116 Choquehuanca, D. 41–2 Christian Care Zimbabwe 132, 136, 138 church 80n1; as actors of development

53–4; attendance and faith identity 54–7; IELB as church 49–50, 59, 71, 76–8; theological concept Church 63–8, 73; see also religious community coca leaves 116–17, 121n8 community 61n3; Andean communities 52, 102–3, 106–7, 134–5; as constructed 133–4; see also religious community community development 51–2, 140; churches in 53–4, 110–11, 125; see also integral development; participative development conservatism 71–2, 78, 116, 118, 125, 139 conversion 61, 64, 104–5, 108–9, 111, 140; see also proselytism critical discourse analysis (CDA) 8, 145 culture: Andean/Aymara 52, 95, 113–8; in Bolivia 31–7; cultural dimension 133–6; and identity 113–18, 125–6; institutional 50, 137; and religion 113–18, 144; Shona culture 138–9; see also ethnicity; interculturality decolonisation 32–3, 40–2, 95 Deneulin, S. 8, 14–16, 19, 21, 30, 126 dependence theory 19 DeTemple, J. 4, 7, 10, 131–5, 139–40 devotion 58–60, 79–80, 107–8; in IELB 76–8; in MAN-B 73–6; see also religious practices diakonia 2, 61, 78–9, 83, 145; in IELB 49–50, 84; and justice 48–50, 65–8, 77–9, 127; in MAN-B 47–8, 53–4, 56, 73, 8; and power 96–8, 129; as practice 20, 86–9, 101; as service 48–9, 66–8, 73, 87–9, 96–7, 127; as theological concept 64–8 discourse 2, 7–8; order of 78

Index   149 ecumenism 6, 11n5, 35, 52, 135; see also liberation theology empowerment 7, 19–20, 26, 69–70, 89 Escobar, A. 5, 8, 18, 89, 133, 145 Estermann, J. 14–15, 34–6, 38–4; on concepts in Aymara 106, 114, 120, 134 ethnicity 30–3, 41, 52, 134, 139 ethnography 133; ethnographic methods 7, 25, 145 evangelicalism 6, 35–6, 64–8, 125; in the Andes 108–11; global 132–3, 135–41; identity 56–7, 78, 89, 109, 124–5; networks 51, 71–2 evangelisation 48, 61, 104, 108, 128, 137; see also proselytism faith-based organisation (FBO) 2, 23–6, 126; characteristics of 46, 48, 52, 54, 123 faith identity 9, 93–4, 107, 115–16, 125; see also religious identity Fairclough, N. 7–8, 95–6, 99, 120 Foucault, M. 20–2, 130, 133 Fraternidad Teológica Latinoamericana (FLT) 64, 79, 80n2, 81n8 Fundapaz 134, 136 Garcia Linera, A. 31, 41–2 ‘gas war’ 33, 77 gender equality 23–4, 41, 52, 61n6, 102, 118–20; and theology 63, 71, 118–20, 145 Gospel in action 24, 66, 86; see also diakonia holistic development 83–5, 132–5; see also integral development holistic mission 65; see also integral mission holistic principle 38–9; see also world view human development 1, 3, 19–20, 82–6, 97–8, 126; and suma qamaña 40; see also alternative development; well-being identity 10, 14; construction 3, 9, 14, 17, 46–61, 123–6; cultural 31–5, 37, 116–18, 130, 139; institutional identity 3, 8, 9, 17–18, 58–60; negotiation 9–10, 14, 42, 138; see also culture; faith-based identities Iglesia Evangelica Luterana de Bolivia (IELB) 2, 49–50; mission and vision 49; networks 3, 50–4

indigenous peoples 4–5, 22, 30–42, 52, 115–18, 134–6 Instituto Superior Ecuménico Andino de Teología (ISEAT) 4, 51, 79 instrumentalisation 9, 22–4, 53, 125–6, 144–5 institution 11n2 integral development 9, 47–8, 82–6, 98–9, 101–21, 126–8; see also holistic development integral mission 6, 53–4, 63–81, 83, 96–8, 110 interculturality 32–3, 37, 40–1, 91 Jesus 74–5, 77, 93; as deacon 50, 65–7, 88; relationship with 56, 70, 73–4, 76–8, 84, 140–1 Jones, B. and Petersen, M.J. 8–9, 22–6, 143 justice: cosmic 39–41; social 8, 25, 109, 120, 127; theological perspectives 6, 23–4, 64–8, 76–9; as value 48–50; see also diakonia, and justice Kingdom of God 23, 47–8, 63–8, 72, 78, 136 Latin American theology 5–6, 64, 78–80, 137; see also liberation theology Lausanne movement 6, 11n5, 64, 132, 137 liberation theology 5–6; Catholic 5–6, 64–5, 136–7; ecumenical 64–5, 67–8, 71–2, 78, 129 Lincoln, B. 8, 14, 16–18, 140 love: of God 77, 87–8, 95, 132; institutional value 48, 50, 66–9, 87–8, 113, 120; personal value 57, 88–9, 113 Lutheran World Federation (LWF) 3, 51, 61n6, 96–7, 129 materialisation 101–3, 121n1; see also cement things Medina, J. 38 mestizo 31, 33 Misión Alianza de Noruega en Bolivia (MAN-B) 3, 47–9; mission and vision 47; networks 50–4 modernisation theory 18–19, 39, 40 modernity 5, 115, 121n7, 139–40 Morales, E. 4, 30–4, 42, 43n2, 99n4, 131 Movimiento al Socialismo (MAS) 4, 30–4, 41; see also Morales, E negotiation 2–3, 10, 14, 143–6; see also identity

150   Index neo-liberalism 5, 9, 19, 33, 133–6 network 3–4, 10, 46, 50–2; influence of 96–8, 129–31, 131–7; religious 6, 48, 53–4, 79 normativity 8, 9, 25–6, 80, 145 Nordstokke, K. 8, 96 Norwegian Mission Alliance (NMA) 3, 51, 79, 81n8, 96–7, 129 Nuñez del Prado, J. 41–2 Occhipinti, L. 4, 24–5, 131–6, 139 OCLADE 134, 136–7 operationalisation 53, 101, 104, 113, 121n1, 127 Pachamama 40, 92, 94–5, 106, 115–18, 139 Padilla, R. 6, 64, 81n8 participation: community 20, 49, 87, 105, 126, 134; participative development 7, 19–20, 26, 89, 102; of women 52, 71, 102, 119; see also empowerment pentecostal churches 15, 35–6, 76; attendance 54, 56; influence of 59, 71–2, 78; pentecostal theology 80n6, 125; see also prosperity theology persuasive influence 20–1, 129–30 post-development 4–5, 8, 18–19, 43n12; see also Escobar, A Potosí 32 power 20–2, 129–31, 145: in Bolivia 30, 32–3, 40–1; influential relations 50–3, 54; religion and 58, 71, 109, 137; see also Foucault, M.; Scott, J praxis 27n4, 139; diakonia 18, 66–7, 86–7 prayer 46, 55, 57–9, 74–5, 137–8; in development practice 85, 104–7, 121n4, 128 preaching: as institutional ritual practices 50, 60, 73–8; and development practice 104–5, 107, 111 proselytism 61, 104, 108, 114, 128, 141; see also evangelisation prosperity theology 26, 35, 125, 138 Protestant churches 6, 11n5; in Bolivia 35, 54, 106, 109, 115; in Latin America 66, 80n2; tradition 11n5, 64, 135–6, 140; women in 119 Rakodi, C. 1–2, 8, 15–16 recontextualisation 90, 95, 99n2, 127; of diakonia 96; of suma qamaña 90–5 reflexivity 7

relational thinking 98–9, 126–7; in the Andes 5, 33, 38–40, 114, 118; in development 85–6, 98–9, 105, 112 religion 1–2, 14–6; dimensions of 16–18 religiosity 15, 43n5, 107; Andean 15, 27n1, 35, 43n6, 117, 125–6; Christian 43n5, 107 religious community 17–18, 21–2, 34, 49, 80n1, 84; church as 17, 24, 25 religious identity 10, 16–18, 54–9, 60; see also faith-based identity religious leaders 2; role of pastor 105–6, 110–11, 124, 130 religious performance 58–60, 73, 104–6, 107–9 religious practice 17, 21, 55, 60, 112, 139; Andean 35–6, 95, 106, 116, 130–1; see also prayer; preaching resistance 20–2, 43n2, 96, 133; in Bolivia 30–3; to Western ideas 26, 39 right-based approach (RBA) 19, 86; see also alternative development; empowerment right-holders 3, 20 Scott, J. 20–1, 43n2, 96–7, 129–30 social movements: in Bolivia 6, 32–3, 42 spirituality 4, 15; in Bolivia 34, 36–7, 94–5, 127; evangelical 47, 56, 60, 78, 89 subjugated discourses 8, 18, 89, 133 suma qamaña 5, 18, 26, 37–42, 90–6, 98–9; see also vivir bien Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) 1, 19, 27n5, 43n9, 88 ter Haar, G. 8, 14–18, 27n2, 83, 112 theology 8, 9, 17, 27n4; and development 21–2; as strategic resource 119–20, 124, 127–8, 144; see also Latin American theology; liberation theology; prosperity theology theological formation 55, 60, 80, 107–8; training 63, 120 transformation 7, 18–19, 83, 112, 133; transformational development 56 values 48, 99, 104, 112–4; Aymara 113–14, 126–9, 136; institutional values 48–9, 50, 101, 129; and power 130; religious 112–13, 120–1; teaching on 60, 89, 104–6; see also normativity vivir bien 5, 33, 37–42; communitarian

Index   151 socialism 41–2; in IELB and MANB 91–6, 98, 130; see also suma qamaña ‘water war’ 33 well-being 1, 19–20, 26, 30; religion and 83–6, 98–9, 112, 136; and suma qamaña 40

World Council of Churches (WCC) 11n5, 27n7, 51, 61n6, 136 world view 15–16, 34, 36–8; Andean 15, 117; holistic 14–15, 34, 40; indigenous 32; modern 5; religious 26 World Vision 132, 134–8, 140