Abstract
In academic debates and at practical level too, there is a degree of polarization between those who view religion, particularly Islam, as a developmental obstacle and those who regards it as a developmental solution. It is contended that such a polarized debate is unhelpful for the study and practice of development. A dispassionate analysis of the role and effect of religion, which could bring the rationalist and post-development discourses closer, can better help development practitioners. Based on the theory of social capital and its offshoots, a theoretical framework is proposed to help development institutions and practitioners for the evaluation of their programs and polices of engagement with religion and religious actors, particularly in Muslim-majority countries.
The term “development” throughout in its post colonial scholarship has been more akin with the concepts of secularism and modernism. Its earliest construct defined poverty and backwardness in relation to the socio-political standards of the industrialized nations. Underdeveloped countries, thus, constituted those lacking what the Western World had, not just in terms of money and material processions but also in relation to scientific and technological advancements and political and economic systems. The cultural facet of “development as modernization” essentially meant secularization. The ascendancy of naturalist and rationalist dominated discourse of the time rallied on nonreligious understanding of bases of social institutions and human capacity to control the world through logic and calculation (Peet & Hartwick 2009, p. 107). However, first under the critique of dependency theorists and later with the demise of Bretton Wood system, much of the homogenizing thrust of modernity subsided in the 1970s. But it is only recently that religion has started forming some scholarly space in the study and practice of development. This shift, though paradoxical, is triggered mainly due to the persistence of so-called “Political Islam.” Its first vivid manifestation was the Iranian Islamic Revolution that highlighted continuing importance of religion in lives and identifies of people as well as in the political space. This trend seems to have only gained further momentum and strength in Muslim-majority countries.
“Development” remains a highly contested term. In its modern sense, both as a verb implying a process and as adjective suggesting some sort of a standard or manifestation, “development” has primarily been associated with economic growth. By 1970s, “development” was already seen not just in terms of economic factors but also as a “movement upward of the entire social system”, comprising noneconomic factors of social and political stratification (Myrdal, 1974, p. 729). By 1990s, the meaning of “development” got further expansion and its “ideals” included not just economic and noneconomic factors but also the “principles of diversity and originality” as essential (Slim, 1995, p. 148). The concept of “Development” is presented as participatory, people-centered and accountable in process and its outcomes as intended, recognized, and accepted (Remenyi, 2004, p. 43). Its most recent extension goes even beyond human, social, spiritual, and cultural values and calling it “true” if not only in process but also in impact it involves both the parties, the one who receives and the other which gives development (Swantz, 2009, p. 35). From its initial “positivist” thrust, the term “development” has gained more of a normative outlook being subjected to various value judgments, which remains at the heart of this contention. Under post structuralist and postcolonialist critique, even this normative facet of “development” is questioned as being “still stuck in modernist paradigms”, and existing only in discursive formation as a product of power constructed within representation (Tripathy & Mohapatra, 2011, p. 95). The various meanings of “development,” however, do exist and are put in practice as a conscious effort by outsiders, even if its formation is discursive and its constructs embroiled with claims of “real” and “unreal” to produce conceived notions of positive change in a particular setting. It is then of little surprise that the intersection of “development” with “religion” or vice versa is even more of a perilous undertaking.
The academic debate on the effects of religion on development, particularly of Islam, is still at best split. On the one side of the spectrum are the like of Bernard Lewis who reckon Islam to be a genuine obstacle to development in contrast to Western civilization that define modernity and which has been enriched by its capacity to absorb positive influences of other cultures (Haddad, 1982, p. 10; Kuran, 1997; Lewis, 2002, p. 150; Platteau, 2008, p. 332). On the other side of this debate are those who hold that Islam supports economic development and rather the cause of decline is not the religion but its abandonment by Muslims (Chapra, 2008, p. 45; Noland, 2005; Zebiri, 1993, p. 3). At the practical level too, there is a degree of polarization in perceptions between those who view religion, particularly Islam, as a developmental obstacle and those who regards it as a developmental solution. Here, the latter is charged with inadvertently encouraging fundamentalism and legitimizing religious authorities and their conservative agenda. The former, under the onslaught of post development and post modernists theorists, is accused of neglecting non-economic factors, including religion, and undertaking approaches which fail to take account of local realities (Kirmani & Philips, 2011, pp. 94 and 97). In between these two extremities are those who have taken a defensive line and see religion more of a developmental concern than an obstacle. This group is reaching out to religious authorities primarily to win over their support and to deflect religiously driven skepticism and resistance (Balchin, 2003, p. 42). It is contended in this article that such polarized debates are unhelpful for the study and practice of development. A dispassionate analysis of the role and effect of religion, which could bring the rationalist and post-development discourses closer, can better help development practitioners in their initiatives. Using religion in general and engaging with religious actors in particular in development projects have strong theoretical underpinnings in the concept of social capital (Bourdieu, 1986). Based on the theory of social capital and its offshoots, a theoretical framework is proposed to help development organizations and practitioners for the evaluation of their programs and polices of engagement with religion and religious actors, particularly in Muslim-majority countries.
Three Spheres of Faith Capital
While the concept of social capital is much older, it is essentially Robert Putnam who, through a series of works, launched it in academic circles, and policy discussions (Putnam, 1995a, 2000).
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In Putnam’s description, social capital comprises “features of social organization such as networks, norms, and social trust that facilitate coordination and cooperation for mutual benefit” (pp. 65–66). In a joint essay with Caiazza (2005, p. 71), Putnam further describes social capital as entailing relationships with friends, personal networks, individual contacts, and involvement in more formally organized groups and activities that have direct bearing on a variety of important indicators including those which intersect with development issues. Importantly, Pierre Bourdieu (1986, p. 47) had earlier somewhat clarified the concept of social capital and made contrast with other forms of capital. Bourdieu sees social capital as networks, relationships or membership in group(s) in contrast to the other two forms of economic capital, which is convertible into money, and culture capital, as in cultural habits, personal dispositions, and credentials. For Bourdieu, social capital is an
aggregate of the actual or potential resources … linked to possession of a durable network of more or less institutionalized relationships of mutual acquaintance and recognition – or in other words, to membership in a group – which provides each of its members with the backing of the collectivity – owned capital, a “credential” which entitles them to credit, in the various senses of the word. (1986, p. 51)
None of the major works of Bourdieu tackle the subject of religion or its interaction with the concept of social capital and so the task is left to other sociologists and anthropologists. Christopher Candland (2000, pp. 356, 370), in particular, has further expanded the theory of social capital and considers faith to be also one of its forms and its values as potentially the basis of binding people together for development of communities. Francis Fukuyama also believes in the role of religion in generating social capital that could in turn be used in development initiatives. Fukuyama (2000, p. 16) asserts that religion is an external source of social capital that could be more effective in promoting civil society. He maintains that “there is little evidence that religion is loosing its grip elsewhere … than Western Europe [and] religiously inspired cultural change remains a live option in many parts of the world”, including the Islamic world. This particular dimension, an offshoot of the theory of social capital, is loosely dubbed as religious capital (Bremmer, 2006; Tomalin, 2007, p. 14).
Among the main protagonists of the theory of religious capital is Laurence Iannaccone (1990, p. 299) who writes that religious practices can also be viewed as productive service. He argues that “religious services are designed not only to inspire or entertain the participants, but also to instruct them; religious acts of charity and love are supposed not only to better the lot of others, but also to better the actor as well.” For Iannaccone (1990), religious capital is both a prerequisite for and a consequence of the most religious activity, the former includes familiarity with a religious doctrines and the latter encompasses one’s religious participation. The process of religious practice and the production of religious satisfaction, which together form religious capital, needs not necessarily be at the individual level only. It goes beyond the family or household level to community or set of communities’ level which are bounded by the same religious doctrine (Portes, 2000, p. 3). Verter (2003, p. 158) calls it spiritual capital, taking the theory of religious capital a step further, which includes not just religiosity but also matters of spirituality. He draws the comparison between the two that “if religious capital is conceived that is produced and accumulated within a hierocratic institutional framework, spiritual capital may be regarded as a more widely diffused commodity, governed by more complex patterns of production, distribution, exchange and consumption.” Using Bourdieu’s concept of cultural capital, Verter (2003, p. 152) understanding of spiritual capital is of spiritual knowledge, competencies, and preferences. For Bourdieu (1986, p. 241) cultural capital exists in three forms of “embodied state” which is acquired through upbringing and socialization, “objectified state” that exists in forms of and acquired through books, dictionaries, etc., and finally the “institutionalized state” as a certification or recognition of one’s qualification by a competent authority. Verter (2003, pp. 159–160), through employing the same assertion, makes the case that spiritual capital also exists in three forms of cultural capital. Building upon the embodied state, he sees spiritual capital as of position and disposition of knowledge, abilities, tastes, and credentials that an individual amasses in the field of religion. In the institutionalized state, he sees religious organizations, that is, church, exercise their power “to legitimate an arbitrary array of religious good, promote the demand of these goods, and feed the supply by bestowing qualification on a select group of authorized produces” as compared to an institutional recognition in cultural capital of academic qualifications. It is this institutionalized state of spiritual capital which is often sought for the production of not just religious goods but earthly goods also, that is, safe health practices, sustainable environment, peace building, and many more, through employment of existing religious organizations. Baker’s (2009, 110) distinction between spiritual and religious capitals brings us closer to the theoretical paradigm under which there is an increasing interest in integrating religious organizations and religious actors in development initiatives. He describes religious capital as concrete actions and resources that faith communities have at their disposal and spiritual capital being the motivating basis of faith, belief, and values that helps shaping the concrete actions of faith communities and individuals.
Essentially, religious dimension of the theory of social capital consists of three spheres. The first sphere of faith capital is thus, defined by the power, formal, and informal, vested upon religious organizations, that is, mosques, through its distinctive status, visibility, and embeddedness in cultural practices in a given setting. In an essay, critical of Bourdieu’s work on the study of religion, Urban (2003, p. 363) has coined it as sacred capital. He describes it as the role and power vested upon the church and its priests to impose a specifically religious habitus upon the laity. Development practitioners are essentially invoking this sacred capital – the first sphere of faith capital – to give legitimacy to their initiatives and creating demand to an array of social goods through the power vested upon religious leaders due their scholarship, affiliation, and general recognition. This is akin to the institutionalized form of cultural capital as explained by Bourdieu or the institutionalized state of spiritual capital as argued by Verter. The farther a country from secularism, the greater the mass of sacred capital it possesses. Similarly, the more visible are the religious organizations and its injunctions, formal or informal, due to customs or state patronage in day-to-day life, lesser the development practitioners and institutions can afford to ignore the effects of sacred capital on their developmental goals.
The second sphere of faith capital is constituted by participation in religious services and affinity to religion by the members of a community. As noted earlier, religious capital is also the attachment to a particular religious culture besides the degree of mastery over its doctrine, history, and rituals. One’s attachment to a particular religion relies on religious participation and experiences in its rituals and prayers (Brown, 2009, p. 37; Finke, 2002, p. 107). Participation in religious congregations, such as Friday prayers, is also a reflection of one’s attachment to a particular religion and of social capital that generates the kinds of networks, norms, and relationships that help individuals and communities attain important goal. Wuthnow (2002, p. 678) explains that membership in a religious congregation is generally associated quite strongly and positively with status-bridging social-capital. Participation and attendance in congregational Friday prayer is, thus, indicative of one’s or a community’s attachment to Islam and therefore a social resource for them to generate networks, norms, and relationships for attaining important goals. This sphere is also constituted by references to religion or its injunction in customary practices. The interplay between sacred and religious capitals is usually strong and positively correlated. Interestingly, an increase in the level from the usual threshold in either of the capital, intentional or unintentional, could potentially have disproportionate impact on the depth and breadth of the other.
The outermost sphere of faith capital is defined by aspects of spirituality in a given community and contains, if present, religiosity and sacredness as its subsets (Carkoglu, 2008, p. 113). Wortham (2007, p. 449) notes that while “spirituality is an aspect of the ‘good life’ the accumulation of spiritual capital can impact the ‘good life’ and the ‘good society’ [italic added].” The strength of the spiritual capital is also not necessarily reflected through the degree an individual or a community in general receives religious instruction or participate in religious activities. It is at this sphere where development practitioners and institutions usually operate through raising the normative consciousness among its various actors for the success of its developmental goals. The abundance or lack of spiritual capital is a result of a complex interplay of multiple factors and is usually independent of the increase or decrease in sacred or religious capitals. Spiritual capital, in a society, is manifested through a range of individual and group behaviors from volunteering and charity giving to more institutional responses as in orphanages, shelters for the poor and so on and so forth.
The success and the degree of impact of development interventions involving either religious organizations or religious actors depend on the strengths of sacred, religious, and spiritual capitals as well as on their recognition, understanding, and capitalization by development institutions and practitioners. The practical implications of different spheres of faith capital are discussed in more detail in the following section.
Engaging with Religion in Development Projects
In the past few years, especially after 9/11, there is growing inclination among development circles of giving greater importance to religion in shaping people’s values (Deneulin & Rakodi, 2011, p. 48; Kirmani & Philips, 2011, p. 88). This has led to increasing efforts to engage with religious discourse and actors as means of promoting development agenda. Development practitioners, however, have generally fallen short of applying any analytical framework to test their ontological assumptions or in assessing the impact, whether short or long term, of engaging religious leaders or organizations in the achievement of their development objectives. Particularly in case of Islam, the ontology is derived from the argument that it constitutes an integral part in the lives and identities of its adherents and therefore religious leaders and scholars can potentially become a source of social uplifting and empowering the masses in Muslim-majority countries. For instance, Rakodi (2007, p. 1) argues that given the importance of religious leaders and their prospective role, the intersection of religion and social uplifting has not been given due attention in contemporary literature, academic debates, and development projects. Rifa’i and Dwiyanto (2005, p. 96) argue in similar lines and assert that ulama have a central role to play as being educators and communicators in the development of the contemporary Muslim world. Ali and Ushijima (2005, p. 116) argue that religious leaders have much influence and are genuine opinion-makers who could be used as advocates. It is this realization of different spheres of faith capital as playing a central role in the lives of millions of women and men that demand meaningful and substantial engagement with religious leaders in forging solutions to social issues (Berger, 2003, p. 36).
Islam, however, is not a monolithic religion. It is observed and practiced under a variety of influences. The religious authority in the Muslim world, with the exception of Shiites, is largely fragmented (Robinson, 2009, p. 353). Ulama are only loosely connected inside their schools-of-thought and carry varying interpretations of Islamic injunctions. There are aspects of religious doctrines in Islam that support some development agendas and there are others in tension with it. Development ideas, therefore, may be acceptable in one Muslim setting but the same may be resisted in another. It becomes, therefore, exceedingly difficult to rally such a diverse lot on complex development issues. Similarly, there might be short- and long-term costs, some apparent and other hidden, associated with engaging religion in development interventions that are seldom considered. Engaging with religion and religious leaders may result in perpetuating the same old traditional hierarchical structures, especially those that pertain to the subjugation of women, which have been in conflict with the popular notion of empowering communities. Similarly, common areas for cooperation among the religious actors, the non-governmental sector and the state may be found in one development endeavor but could potentially come in sharp conflict in another. On the one hand, this will result in creating suspicion and mistrust between the parties and, on the other hand, would provoke controversies, confusions, and divisions among the people. Also, role and sphere of religious actors varies from one Muslim-majority country to another and even within a country. For instance, in some Islamic countries, that is, Iran and Saudi Arabia, Friday sermons are controlled and monitored for its topics and contents, while there is a little oversight over congregational Friday prayers in countries of South Asia. In South Asia, a community, small neighborhood association, faith-based organization/movement or a religious seminary appoints an imam and in case where mosque is the property of the government, which is few and far between, ministry concerning with religious affairs appoints the prayer leader. This is unlike other Islamic countries where Religious Affairs, or other relevant government functionary appoints and supervises imam. This implies that if Friday prayer is to be used as a social and behavior change communication medium in countries such as those in Middle East, the involvement of and coordination with the relevant functionary concerning with religious affairs will be of extreme significance. Buy-in from the concerned government department will make this task a lot easier; conversely, near impossible if the intervention is faced with objection. Even if there were buy-in, the development intervention would run a risk of being seen as a government-controlled propaganda. Yet, we are beginning to see that people’s religious convictions and traditions are now considered having strong implications for a wide range of development issues, from water management and family planning to managing AIDS pandemic and promoting girls’ education (Boulay, Tweedie, & Fiagbey, 2008; Burket, 2006; Esack, 2007; Ganter & Bigalke, 2006; Gilli, 2004; Hoodfar & Asadpour, 2000; Patel, 2005; Singhal, 2001; Thomas, 2007, p. 69; Underwood, 2000). The proposed framework can help development practitioners in evaluating their engagement with religion and its custodians in view of its short- and long-term implications and in relation to the aspired development goals.
Ontologically, all development interventions that reach out to and engage religious leaders and organizations are traceable at varying degrees and levels of the three spheres of faith capital. A brief review of published research in last ten years on engaging with religion in development projects makes the case in point. For instance, an intervention-research carried out in Pakistan by the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health Center for Communication Programs (JHU-CCP, 2010) on engaging religious leaders for advocating positive behaviors among men for improving maternal health is based on the premise that religious leaders are highly revered and sought by most people for guidance on religious issues, including those that intersect with aspects of well-being and health. At this level of ontology, the intervention is evoking sacred capital as one of the factors of production for its developmental goals – improved women’s health. At the next level of ontology, the intervention is aiming at reaching male sections of population through the medium of Friday prayers in which men congregate regularly in sizeable numbers, once during the week, and listen to the Friday sermon delivered by the imam of their local mosques. Participation and attendance in congregational Friday prayer is a form of a religious capital, an untapped resource for developmental initiatives and now increasingly seen as an effective medium of communication (El-Bedri, 1959; Rashiduzzaman, 1997). Finally, the intervention is essentially establishing a set of assumptions at a normative level of spiritual capital. Here, it is referring to a growing body of evidence which points at the importance of men as social gatekeepers and ultimate decision-makers effecting women’s health seeking behavior (Dudgeon & Inhorn, 2004; Gallen, Liskin, & Kak, 1986; Greene et al., 2004; Jejeebhoy & Sathar, 2001; Sathar, Crook, Callum, & Kazi, 1988, pp. 415–416; Shaikh & Hatcher, 2005, p. 51). 2 At this normative level, the intervention is basing its assumption on the strength of spiritual capital, where not only ulama are to realize their social role as educators but men too are assumed to heed to their instructions in taking active part in the health and well-being of women. 3 Another intervention-research documented by authors from JHU-CCP (Boulay et al., 2008) on the effectiveness of using religious leaders to reduce HIV-related stigma in Ghana is rationalized on all three spheres. Its premise is that religious leaders have influence over social norms [first sphere], and they will be particularly be effective in West Africa where the rates of religious affiliation and attendance at religious services are the highest in the world [second sphere] in promoting improved attitudes toward people living with HIV/AIDS [third sphere]. Hoodfar and Assadpour (2000) discuss the distinct role of the religious leader within the ambit of the success of the family planning program in the Islamic Republic of Iran following the 1979 revolution. They point to the ability of the religious leaders in communicating program’s agenda to people with low income and those living in rural areas through a network of tens of thousands of local mosques that they have at their disposal [first sphere], patronized by members of less privileged social groups [second sphere] who were told of social importance of family planning [third sphere]. Being a Muslim majority country [first sphere], Patel (2005) discusses Jordanian state’s efforts in promoting development agendas, that is, water conservation, by regulating the contents of Friday mosque sermons and training of imams [third sphere]. A compendium published by the World Bank consisting of several case studies takes stock of partnerships and engagement between faith and development institutions from around the developing world (Marshall & Saanen, 2007). In discussing faith–secular partnerships, authors make a case for a central role of pastors and imams in development work, their ability to reach out to the poorest and most vulnerable people and privilege place of religious organizations in communities [first sphere]. They also talk about the trust communities place in religious organizations and their role in social and economic change because of their rich and dense networks linking different actors and the fact that they are not just places of worship but also community centers where friends, families, and neighbors congregate [second sphere]. Authors then essentially relate these two aspects to several accounts of engagement and partnership between faith and development around the realization of Millennium Development Goals through advocacy and social mobilization [third sphere] (Marshall, 2008). A 2006 report by Pathfinder International is a compilation of selected case studies where the organization has advanced reproductive health and family planning through religious leaders. In discussing cases from Ghana, Egypt, Ethiopia, Bangladesh, Kenya, Uganda, and Nigeria, the underlying premise is that religious leaders are looked to for guidance and advice on all aspects of life, especially in areas where Islamic Sharia law governs life [first sphere], and in settings with strong religious beliefs [second sphere], for spreading messages to followers of religious leaders through counseling, public meetings, and sermons for improving reproductive health and family planning [third sphere] (Burket, 2006).
The underlying logic behind every development intervention that seeks to engage with religious actors and organizations, by and large, could be established on the three spheres of faith capital – sacred, religious, and spiritual. The next step would then be the determination of an optimal combination and volume of subsets of faith capital, if there were one, for its application to the development intervention. This would indeed vary from case to case and from one setting to another. There have been a large number of studies, since Bourdieu introduced the concept, on quantifying impact of social capital for an individual’s or a group’s advantages. For Bourdieu (1984, p. 291), “membership” of a professional or a recreational group, that is, golf club, served as an important determinant for production or reproduction of social assets. James Coleman, who has provided an important counterpoint and initial boost to Bourdieu’s elitist-based theory, emphasizes on “relationships” as an important determinant of social capital for educational outcomes. Robert Putnam, the most influential of social capital theorists, broadens the concept to include strengths of “civic engagement” and “civic trust” as essential determinants for democratic life and democratization (Putnam, 1995b). The religious offshoot on quantification of social capital is also discernable on different spheres of faith capital. Bremmer (2006), for instance, discusses social capital of early Christians and highlights “love of God” and “belief in salvation” as typical of religious capital that are traceable in the first sphere of faith capital. Iannaccone (1990) uses levels of religious participation, of the second sphere, to explain observed patterns in denominational mobility, religious intermarriage, conversion age, the relationship between church attendance and contribution and the influence of upbringing and interfaith marriage through the economic concepts of household production and human capital. In a fairly recent article, Lewis, Carol, MacGregor, and Putnam (2013) examine relationship between religiosity, that is, belief, teachings and congregation life of the first and second spheres, and individuals’ civic engagement, that is, volunteering and charity of the third sphere, as an underlying mechanism for producing strong friendship networks. Verter (2003, pp. 159–160) uses Bourdieu’s theory of social capital, particularly the notion of cultural capital, and presents three forms of spiritual capital in the embodied state, the objectified state and the institutionalized state. In his analysis, the aspects of religious knowledge and competencies of embodied state and their proper consumption as in votive objects and ritual vestments in the objectified state are more akin to the second sphere while the power that religious organizations exercise as in institutionalized state is in parallel with the first sphere of faith capital. A review article of Baker and Miles-Watson (2010), originally produced by the William Temple Foundation, provides a comprehensive synthesis of various factors applied for the quantification of faith and traditional capitals since the time the concept of social capital was introduced.
These various quantifications of social capital and its religious offshoot could become the basis for evaluating development programs and polices of engagement with religion and religious actors. At the first sphere of faith capital, development practitioners could look into the propensity of using religious injunctions as a source of guidance in daily matters in a particular setting. In communities, perceived hierarchical position of religious leaders and their importance as a source of information could also form the basis for such an evaluation. At a meta-level, extent of references to religion in the constitution or law and to the extent it constitutes in forming personal identity could be used as factors to determine the overall environment. In addition and at a practical-level, development practitioners could assess the share, size and success of faith-based organization in provision of development services and the presence and visibility of other religious organizations in communities. At the second sphere of faith capital, extent of the role of religion and use of religious organizations in civil matters such as births, marriages, and deaths together with participation in religious services, observance of religious festivals and rituals, exposure to religious lectures, sermons, and announcements and attendance in religious seminaries and education could be used to assess how strong religious capital in a community is. At the third sphere, development practitioners need to link the first and second spheres of faith capital with the aspects of spirituality, that is, charitable activities and giving, volunteering, existing social-safety nets, neighborhood committees and public meetings and gatherings, to make the case for engaging with religion in development projects. The proposed framework can also be applied in designing development interventions that seek engaging with religion and religious actors. For instance, at the first sphere the framework would require development practitioners to look into whether their intervention is adequately addressing diversity of religious denominations and what could be the possible impact of giving further legitimacy to and heightening the role of religion and religious actors. At the second sphere, the framework would require development practitioners to assess as to what extent engaging with religion could enable their interventions to reach out to those communities and individuals effectively which could otherwise be unapproachable by other means. Finally, at the third sphere, development practitioners would have to gauge the normative appeal of their interventions to religious actors and organizations and their willingness to be part of such an initiative.
Conclusion
Religion, write Couplet and Heuchenne (1998, pp. 28–29), is a fundamental factor for development more than democracy, population, density, or natural resources. Islam has persistently shown the tendency to cater to a broad array of fields of human existence – individual and social, material and moral, economic and political, legal and cultural, national, and international (Bannerman, 1988, p. 10). Resultantly, there is an obvious inclination among development practitioners to rally Islamic institutions and religious actors in the pursuit of their development agenda. However, not all development issues are in conformity with Islamic injunctions or its varying interpretations.
For some development issues common grounds and openings within the existing system of beliefs could be found to frame messages or position development goals so that they are not in conflict with interpretations religious leaders adhere to or those that they generally share with their congregants. But for others it may not be possible. It is crucial that before any dialogue is initiated, prevailing perceptions of religious leaders on development issues are carefully studied. It is essentially for the development practitioners to decide if the costs of excluding religious organizations and actors exceed benefits of engaging them in development projects. The proposed framework of three spheres of faith capital could help in this determination.
