Cultures, spirituality, and development

Thierry Verhelst with Wendy Tyndale

This essay addresses some of the ways in which culture and spirituality may be taken into account in development processes. We shall consider the reasons for adopting an inclusive approach of this kind and ask to what degree it can enhance the effectiveness and sustainability of development policies in general and of anti-poverty programmes in particular. Many issues are simplified for reasons of space, but we trust that the following thoughts will help to stimulate discussion.

We shall focus on the development processes promoted by the multilateral institutions, such as the World Bank, the International Monetary Fund, and the UN specialised agencies, and by individual governments and NGOs of the industrialised countries. These bodies have by no means taken a uniform approach to 'co-operation' with the countries of what used to be called the Third World and are now often referred to as 'the South'. Nevertheless, their combined influence has been and continues to be decisive for millions of people in the world.

Many of the concepts we shall be discussing are difficult to define, so wherever possible we shall provide examples to give a sharper edge to what sometimes seems rather a vague area of debate. A vital task ahead is to engage more systematically in a search for case studies that show how culture and spirituality can influence efforts to support people in moving out of poverty in its multiple forms, towards a state of self-fulfilment and contentment.

Transforming international development

In the 1950s and 1960s, the multilateral institutions and the governments of the industrialised North began to draw up development strategies for the 'developing countries' of the South. Broadly speaking, their aim was to achieve visible goals associated with material development in the Northern hemisphere. Much development planning has consequently been inspired by a vision of history as a linear evolution, and conceived of as a way of 'catching up' with 'modernity'.

The process has emphasised the importance of economic growth and the central role of development experts. It has been embedded in an understanding of knowledge which gives priority to technology and science; and it has been guided by a dualistic world-view which separates the material from the spiritual. That the former has been granted precedence over the latter is made apparent by the scarcity of any mention in development literature of cultural, let alone spiritual, concerns – despite the fact that religious beliefs are the prime source of guidance and support for most human beings, especially those who are materially the poorest.

Over the past two decades, it has become apparent that this approach to development has contributed to the destruction of many societies and community structures. It has brought with it the imposition of the cultural norms of the development institutions and their agents, as though these had some kind of universal validity. The concept of private property and the encouragement of competition over cooperation are just two examples of what have been promoted as universal norms. The sustainable livelihoods of people whose customs and value systems do not fit these norms have often been jeopardised as a result.

Some of the most glaring examples of such destruction of traditional ways of life are found among indigenous peoples, such as the Guarani, Quechua, and Maya in Latin America and the Maasai in East Africa. But the cost of encountering 'modernity' is not borne by indigenous cultures alone. There are many people outside the tribal communities in India, for example, who vehemently oppose the rapid spread of Western values and lifestyles, which they see as detrimental to much of what they most cherish in their culture, especially attitudes and customs related to their spiritual beliefs.

Today there is an increasing (though probably insufficient) awareness that quite different paths can be taken to improve human welfare, and that no programme can bring positive and lasting results unless it is well anchored in the cultural norms and values of the society in question. There is a gradual recognition of the need to acknowledge the central role of people, with their particular aspirations, attitudes, mentality, values, beliefs, spirituality, and sense of the sacred and of happiness, and with their own skills, expertise, and creativity, as a pre-requisite for the success of development programmes.

As all religions would confirm, to become fully human is more than a matter of improving one's material condition. That human beings do not live by bread alone is not only a Christian concept. As a Mayan woman from Mexico put it: "The heart of our struggle, the soul of our vision for a better future is to be able to live with dignity on the basis of our culture. Our culture tells us that our economic activities cannot be separated from social and religious life and cannot be reduced to economics.'

Who can decide what is positive or negative within any given cultural context?

To stress life's invisible and non-material dimensions seems to be interpreted by some as entertaining a romantic vision of material deprivation. But few people would defend living conditions which negate fundamental human freedom and dignity and which are offensive to social justice and equity. Cultures that discriminate on the basis of gender, race, or creed, for example – as many do – should surely be open to change. This does not, however, justify the all too common tendency of visiting experts to pass hasty judgement on other cultures, as if their own views were value-free and grounded in abstract objectivity.

Indeed, one of the questions often asked in debates on the issue of culture is: Who is to decide what is positive or negative within any given cultural context?...