The USAID Strategic Religious Engagement Summit: What Was Not Said

Abstract

This essay reflects on the 2020 USAID Evidence Summit on Strategic Religious Engagement and the field of “religions and development” from the perspective of a practitioner and scholar working in intergovernmental and inter-/multi-religious organizations and spaces for over three decades. Reviewing the papers presented at the Summit, this essay raises some criticisms about perceived gaps in the discussions which also reflect gaps in scholarly work, as well as in some of the ongoing practices, including asking some questions about inclusion of actors, analysis, and narratives not available in English and/or presenting the work of non-Christian resources. The essay ends with some recommendations for working on the religion-and-development nexus going forward.

Keywords:

• Religion
• violent extremism
• race
• colonialism
• human rights
• gender
• faith-based organization

The “Evidence Summit on Strategic Religious Engagement”¹ was sponsored and hosted by the US Agency for International Development (USAID), and was co-convened by the Center for Strategic and International Studies, the United States Institute of Peace, and the Templeton Religion Trust. This unprecedented summit, which took place on October 5–8, 2020 had over 300 participants, and addressed how best to engage faith-based/faith-motivated actors in a mutually respectful manner to advance shared development goals.

As one of the people engaged in the nexus of politics, religion, and human rights for over 30 years, having worked on these issues both academically and as a practitioner, in Europe, Central Asia, and Africa, and living and working in the United States (since 2000) and at the UN (2007–2020), I confess, I was at once delighted and intrigued by the Summit.

The field of religion and development has come a long way. I remember, in early 2002, researching how many sessions had taken place at the UN Commission on the Status of Women (since its inception) that involved some coverage of “religion.” I found that none of the formal sessions of the UN Commission on the Status of Women (which brings together thousands of women and men, from over 190 countries, to discuss and assess women’s empowerment) had “religion” in their title or had dealt with religion. As a result, I examined “side events,” discovering that from 1996 to 2000, if religion was mentioned at all, it focused on “religious fundamentalism.” From 2000 to 2002, the number of side events on “religion” grew to five per year. Four out of five were still focused on fundamentalism as harmful to women’s rights, but in 2002, there were two sessions which looked at “religion” as an empowering aspect. When I did this research again in 2019, there was a 180-degree change: the number of side events covering religion was well over 70, with only 3 dealing with religion as problematic, and the rest focused on religion as empowering in diverse ways.

The Summit brought a welcomed focal point of reflection, more than two decades since Western nations in particular first began to appreciate and respect the nexus of religion with development. It is worth noting that Central Asian, Middle Eastern, Latin American, and African governments have long interacted with religious institutions and religious actors. In fact, tensions between religious and political establishments are a long-standing feature of politics and society in most countries, as part and parcel of the intersection between government run social services and religiously run ones. Some of the research papers presented at the conference point to how many of these interactions are particularly evident in the public health and educational domains.

My experience spans studying the nexus of religion, governance, and human rights, through the lens of Islamic organizations in the Middle East and North Africa, in particular, and working with many human rights and democracy building organizations in Europe, thereafter. Moving on to look at the religion and politics nexus from the perspective of NGOs working to support good governance and democracy, I joined international organizations working with governments and civil society organizations in many parts of the developing world, thus working in and with Southern and East African countries as well as Central and Southern Asia. I served multi-religious peacebuilding with Religions for Peace² from 2000 to 2004, returning to a focus on the Middle East and on gender equality dynamics in multi religious contexts. From 2004, I joined the UN Development Programme (UNDP) followed by UNFPA, where my task was to build the UN Interagency Task Force on Religion and Development (2010), and a Multi Faith Advisory Council consisting of over 40 global FBOs (2018). Throughout this period of institution building, my work was to convene, train, document, and assess FBO work with the myriad UN system entities, in over 190 countries.

My intrigue with the Summit derives from this experience, and thus my observations of some of the relative “silences”—that is, the things not said—and/or points that I missed in otherwise excellent papers.

Silences?

Which Religious Actors Are, and Are Not, Included in the Scope of Engagement?

The Summit’s research papers generally use the now widespread terminology of “faith-based organizations (FBOs)” (a nomenclature USAID has itself played a role in normalizing in the lexicon since the 1980s). In places, the papers also use phrases like “religious leaders and communities.” While well-intended, my concern is that there are important implicit assumptions embedded as to the kinds of religious actors that will be recognized and considered “engageable” within the mandate of “strategic religious engagement.” For instance, there is little in the papers that would make clear whether SRE would include engagement with (or even acknowledgement of) groups such as the Taliban, al-Qaeda, ISIS, the Lord’s Resistance Army, the Army of God, or Eastern Lightening, among others. As just one practical example, negotiating humanitarian corridors with terrorist-designated religious groups is, in some contexts, an inevitable necessity. How “strategic” is it, one must wonder, to ignore or under-emphasize the necessity of dealing with some rather large religious elephants in the room.

Is English the Only Language of Knowledge?

A significant omission in the Summit’s commissioned literature survey is knowledge produced in other languages. Not all FBOs speak and work in English language environments—indeed, in Western languages. And yet, how many of those who attended the Summit, and how much of the literature cited in the bibliographies of the expert papers, actually relied on the reams of knowledge produced in Arabic, Persian, Swahili, or even Spanish and Portuguese? I saw one German reference. But is it truly conceivable that there is no research and work done in other languages, that may be relied on to inform strategic sensibilities?

Put differently, how do we justify that in 2020, our knowledge of strategic religious engagement in the United States of America, produced by some of the most distinguished American institutions and most authoritative sources of global knowledge, in the age of high tech (and even of google translate), relies almost exclusively on what is available in the English language? And yet here we are advising the world’s largest single-nation international development agency, with hundreds of millions of US dollars invested already—and slated to be invested—based on “evidence” produced in English. I do beg the reader’s indulgence if it seems to me that there is little that has changed since the likes of Edward Said and Noam Chompsky, both in their own ways, critiqued the manner in which the Western world not only produces knowledge of “the other,” but manages to succeed in manufacturing consent around them.

During the Middle Ages, Greek works of knowledge were translated into Syriac, Arabic, and Persian (with the original Greek versions often unknown to the West). This was undergirded by the apparent “genius” that learning about “the other”—and about one’s self—in the language of “the other,” is essential for our human evolution. In the 18th and 19th centuries, knowledge of “the other” was made possible through the lens of the colonizing nations, which was, largely, “knowledge” produced in the English and French languages.

We should be beyond arguing that the colonial encounter was breastfed on and by racism, intersecting with misogyny, all even while claiming noble purpose, enlightenment, and civilizational missionarism (pun definitely intended). These attitudes informed our knowledge of religions then, and still color the way we see different religions now.³

In 2018, a global consultation on religion and development led to a report on “Realizing the Faith Dividend: Religion, Gender, Peace, and Security.” The report noted that the UN Secretary General himself is on record as speaking to the importance of faith-based organizations in international development, noting that they have a role to play in his policy of developing transformative multi-stakeholder partnerships. The report focuses on the role of diverse religious actors, and religious considerations in the global development agenda, particularly issues pertaining to gender equality, peaceful coexistence, and security considerations. The perspectives, ideas, and initiatives discussed in the report brought together experiences and policy analysis shared from the different realities of donor governments (including USAID), diverse UN agencies, and several FBOs including Hindu, Buddhist, and Muslim ones. In fact, the report documented a specific ask made by some of the non-Western FBOs: to cull multi-religious narratives on sustainable development. For instance, what does Islam have to say about development per se, and what are the Islamic NGO practices around this? How different are they from other faith narratives and praxis? Interestingly, while this recommendation was picked up by the German Development Cooperation entity (GIZ),⁴ which have also funded and carried out work on the nexus of religion and development,⁵ they ended up collating these narratives—in English.

It would not hurt to continue to ask how many of the references to projects cited in the background papers and discussions, whether on humanitarianism, migration, or health, are the work of/by Christian organizations—with only one or two of these organizations working with but one Muslim FBO (Islamic Relief)? High time, that in the 21st century, in the age and in the country where debates are ranging about Black Lives Matter, culture wars, the “cancel culture,” “critical race theory”—and still rampant misogyny—we, at least, actively seek to translate the knowledge of “the other.” That is my number one recommendation for enhancing the operational capacity of development institutions vis-à-vis strategic religious engagement.

Whither Other Faiths?

Another missed feature in the knowledge amassed about strategic religious engagement relates to the relative lack of references to the work of myriad Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and other faith organizations, not to mention the almost full eclipse of the work carried out by interfaith developmental and humanitarian efforts in many countries. At least three large interfaith organizations have been engaged in development work for nearly two decades; some, such as the one I serve today, Religions for Peace, since 1970. But the work of these entities is not mentioned in the papers I received. The argument about the relative narrowing of the focus on certain Christian FBOs, was already raised in 2011, in the work by Jones and Petersen (2011), in which among other criticism of the review of the work on religion and development, they emphasize the extent to which the interest in religion and development is coming from donors and development agencies themselves. Rendering it of value for us to raise the question: whose standards and what criteria are being used to assess the “strategic” in religious engagement? In other words, “strategic” per whose definition? That of the governments? Or of donor agencies? Or strategic from the perspective of local community-based initiatives—which often rarely report on their work? Ultimately, who defines what is “strategic” and for whom?

Ignoring the Links Between Development and Violent Extremism

USAID identifies itself as an international leader in violence prevention and “countering violent extremism (CVE),” and issued a seminal report in April 2020 entitled “Countering Violent Extremism Through Development Assistance,”⁶ noting how it and its partners have worked to counter violent extremism in Africa, Asia, Europe, and the Middle East for almost two decades, through diverse partners, to provide technical and programmatic support to regional, national, and local governments; civil society, and the private sector. As the U.S. Government’s lead implementer of CVE programming, USAID continues to contribute to U.S. national security by limiting the reach and impact of “violent extremist organizations (VEOs)” to threaten U.S. interests. To which end, USAID has CVE programs in more than 20 countries across the world, and considers itself a leader in CVE programming. How? According to their report,

through dedicating funding to support activities that address the specific needs of women and girls at risk from violent extremism … [operating to push] back and denying space to VEOs such as al-Qaida, the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS) and its adherents, Boko Haram, and numerous other VEOs.

Interesting to note that these are all organizations which are claiming a religious affiliation. All the more reason to argue for finer nomenclature when considering strategic engagement.

But more important is to underline another link: between developmental interventions which strengthen healthcare and educational services, facilitate the provision of decent jobs and employment opportunities, ensure functioning democratic systems where law and order are the basis which enable all population segments (regardless of race, class, ethnicity, or religion) to access social justice (rather than rampant corruption and nepotism), all of which reduce the inequalities which fuel resentment among disaffected populations, young and old. In other words, the work of sustainable development is where prevention of the factors which constitute the root causes of violence in most societies around the world takes place.⁷ A 2017 Report by UNDP, entitled “Journey to Extremism in Africa: Drivers, Incentives and the Tipping Point for Recruitment,” cogently makes this case:

Development actors are uniquely placed within the overall response architecture for tackling violent extremism, and have an integral role to play in averting the threats posed by preventing and transforming it. Development expertise and resourcing can be leveraged to address structural drivers; to support communities in implementing deradicalization initiatives; and to help ensure that former members of violent extremist organizations are socio-economically reintegrated, among many other critical areas.⁸

Further Recommendations

Above I have spoken to the need to systematically clarify our terminologies (and their biases), ensuring greater inclusion of critical and varied voices in the midst of varied consultations (and any future “evidence summits”), widening the pool of religious work assessed to include other religious and interreligious work, and looking much more critically at how religious engagement in development is also a means of prevention of violent extremism. This brings me to another couple of points, perhaps some of the most challenging, which I will continue to address as queries.

Mindfulness About Challenging Trade-Offs

Although religious organizations serve and save millions of lives and spirits, they are also responsible for their own silences around human rights, and even collude with anti-democratic authoritarian regimes. In a consultation which took place in 2014 under the auspices of the United Nations, in preparation for the 193 governmental consultations on a post 2015 global development agenda (now labeled the Sustainable Development Goals/SDGs, or Agenda 2030), over 60 representatives from faith-based organizations and development entities from Africa, Asia, Latin America, the Middle East, Europe, and North America discussed the intersections of religion with development (including governance, peace and security, health, employment, and nutrition) in different countries. The report noted the critique voiced by many in the discussions, of a “Western mindset” in reviewing and speaking of the work in these fields, as well as the dominance of Christian organizations in the consultations which take place (UNFPA 2014). But the report also highlighted the call by most of the FBOs for a “safe space” in which they could articulate their own criticisms of some governments and some governmental donor entities claiming an interest in the religion and development nexus. Their criticisms stemmed from a shared belief that religious discourse and some religious organizations were being “instrumentalized,” as some of the Summit papers also referenced. But interestingly, the point made by the FBOs was not to refrain from instrumentalizing religions altogether, but rather, an invitation to do so with a view to moving partner FBOs towards more deliberate affirmation of all human rights. “If religion is not instrumentalized for aligning development with more universal values, this creates a vacuum for religion to be instrumentalized for more parochial values which push for exclusion and intolerance” (UNFPA 2014, 28).

At what point should we insist that all FBOs, religious leaders, and decades of Christian and non-Christian values ostensibly in service to all humankind, be held accountable for the compromises they may deem necessary to make? For instance, when an FBO seeks to negotiate humanitarian corridors with ISIS, to deliver much needed relief to communities torn between Iraqi or Syrian forces, or with Hamas, to deliver relief to those living in areas which it controls but having to do clandestinely since both organizations are labeled as terrorist? How is it that we can contemplate “strategic religious engagement” without at least noting the responsibilities held in the very acts of service, which sometimes require serious compromises with governments over basic human rights?

At what point do we actually “use” human rights and the defense of democracy as part of the criteria by which we compare, and perhaps even dare to evaluate the work of religious engagement? Or do we let democracy die in darkness in the name of faith-based and faith-inspired strategic engagement?

More Research

And even if we stay far from judging the actions of any FBO, I believe it is imperative to learn about the trade-offs that do result in difficult situations where humanitarian aid delivery to hundreds of thousands of needy, which many FBOs are expert and totally necessary at, may also mean making deals with the “devil(s),” whether state or non-state actors. This is an area that remains understudied and undervalued. Thus, calling for more research and learning from the experiences, including diligently from diverse non-Christian religious actors, in humanitarian relief (taking into account both man-made conflicts as well as natural disasters and now the pandemic context), should be absolutely central to the endeavors of strategic religious engagement going forward.

Food for Thought—Supporting the Multi-Religious?

When Religions for Peace set up its Multi-Religious Humanitarian Fund in April of 2021, to insist on supporting multi-religious responses to the Covid crisis and any further humanitarian challenges, the idea was to pool financial resources of diverse faith communities to serve the shared demand together. Interestingly, the responses of secular development and humanitarian actors varied from utter silence, to murmurs about already having “our own humanitarian mechanisms and work,” to an outright lament that coordination and collaboration are a luxury few have time for, as it was difficult enough to manage the mechanisms already at hand.

Yet, this is happening at the same time that most UN system entities (including the WHO) and other global development donors (including USAID), are increasing their engagement with FBOs, seeking collaboration to spread health and educational messaging among wide constituencies, and documenting the unique roles of FBOs. A recent World Health Organization report, for instance, outlined the important role religious institutions played in the past in getting Turkey’s refugee population vaccinated against many other diseases. They noted that these faith actors were important in reaching out, informing, and directing the millions of people that make up the country’s refugee population. As the papers inform us, religious institutions have long been doing this.

Many religious leaders, on the “right side” of science and steeped in their theological and practical intricacies of service to all barring none, are keen to influence worldwide awareness, and to insist on reaching all those currently marginalized. Even more breathtaking for those of us in this space for nearly three decades, there are many faith leaders who are ready to do so together—thus to speak in one voice. As an example, the unequal distribution of vaccines across the world—referred to by some as “vaccine nationalism”—is a major focus of religious leaders’ efforts to counter misinformation, urge political and business leaders to literally leave no one behind, and commit to promote confidence in taking the vaccines (if and when available). The religious leaders are arguing that access to Covid vaccines, like the disease they are targeting, should cross borders, ethnic divides, gendered and racialized identities, religious differences, and any and all vested interests of the few. As these issues affect all of the world’s peoples, many religious leaders and institutions are heeding the call for their advocacy and voice.

Given a fair chance of being reported, the impact of multi-religious actors working together at community, regional, and global levels can and will shift mindsets of individuals and policymakers alike. The question is this: some are complaining—rightly—about religious actors being instrumentalized to serve the vested interests of some. Yet as we are witnessing a moment where the multi-religious voices for moral dignity and shared well-being are at their loudest, why are we not ensuring that all “secular development actors” are fine-tuning their listening, and increasing their giving, to the multi-religious actors?

Acknowledgments

Publication of this response essay as part of a special open-access issue of The Review of Faith & International Affairs was made possible by the Templeton Religion Trust.

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Azza Karam

Azza Karam serves as the Secretary General of Religions for Peace, the world’s oldest and largest multi-religious and global movement of religious leaders, interfaith youth and women’s networks, which was established in 1970, with over 90 national and regional Interreligious Councils. She is also a Professor of Religion and Development at the Vrije Universiteit of Amsterdam, the Netherlands, with several books and articles published and translated in several languages.

Notes

1 https://www.usaid.gov/faith-and-opportunity-initiatives/2020-evidence-summit-strategic-religious-engagement.

2 https://www.rfp.org/.

3 See especially the criticisms of the colonial lens in Paton (2015). See also Romero (2001), Sen (1999), Williams (1995), Said (1978).

4 https://www.giz.de/en/workingwithgiz/41352.html.

5 Including launching an international Partnership on Religion and Sustainable Development (PaRD) in 2015 which is only recently expanding to include a wider non-Christian FBO representation.

6 https://www.usaid.gov/countering-violent-extremism.

7 https://www.ipsnews.net/2016/08/the-counter-narrative-to-terror-and-violence-is-already-among-us/.

8 https://journey-to-extremism.undp.org/.