Engaging Local Religious Actors in Humanitarian Aid Delivery

The delivery of humanitarian aid to crisis-stricken communities is often marred by corruption, particularly in active conflict zones where organizational oversight and due diligence may seem, to aid organizations, like unaffordable luxuries. Consider, as an example, Yemen, where 4.5 million people have been displaced by a nine-year civil war between Saudi-led forces and Houthi rebels. In 2019, more than a dozen U.N. aid workers were accused of enriching themselves with WHO and UNICEF aid funding. In one case, the deputy head of WHO’s Aden branch, Omar Zein, funneled several hundred thousand dollars in aid to his personal bank account. During his tenure with the WHO, he also served as the health minister of one of the warring factions while holding a $1.3 million contract with the U.N. for his private nutritional program NGO, which did not even have a ground operation in the city it purportedly supported. And it appears these are not isolated anomalies. A 2021 report by the Sana’a Center for Strategic Studies found that aid workers in Yemen perceived corruption in the humanitarian aid sector as widespread and deeply entrenched. While civilians keep complaining about missing aid and international organizations keep reaffirming their zero-tolerance policy on corruption, there seems to be an unmitigated accountability gap between affected local communities and international aid agencies.

At the core of the aid corruption epidemic in Yemen and many other conflict zones (including Ukraine, Sudan, and Syria) is the disconnection of the organizations providing aid from the community in need. International organizations have not been able to provide sorely needed accountability and oversight of their local field offices. Additionally, there is often no direct social connection between local communities and these field offices. The intermediaries between the field offices and the local population are typically local NGOs, but these alleged “aid distribution partners” are often suspected of being established by political factions to attract international funds and channel those funds to specific regions for political and military advantage, or for personal gain. (Omar Zein’s NGO is an example.)

While there is no perfect solution to this problem, international aid organizations should consider greater strategic engagement with local religious institutions (such as mosques, temples, or churches) as an alternative to relying on international staff stationed in field offices or partnering with (often newly-created) secular NGOs in distributing and coordinating aid resources. There are a number of reasons why partnering with local religious institutions may be an effective way for international donors to increase accountability and reduce corruption in humanitarian aid delivery:

  • First, local religious institutions typically have a long history and deep roots in the community, predating the infusion of humanitarian aid. (In Yemen over 99% of the population identifies as Muslim, and mosques are not only places of worship but centers of community social life.) This history of engagement with the community in a variety of settings contributes to a relationship of trust and understanding within the community. Through working with these institutions, international organizations bring the decision-making of aid allocation (what resources and how much of it is needed) closer to the impacted community, thus improving the transparency in aid delivery.
  • Second, leaders of local religious institutions (both the clergy and the lay leaders) are themselves members of the community, and there is organic accountability rooted in their ongoing moral leadership. The personal connections these leaders have with community members make it much more difficult to evade accountability if supplies or funding go missing.
  • Third, religious institutions have a far deeper reach and access in a community than any international organization field office or local NGO. There are existing networks of relationships within a faith community, which makes it much easier for these institutions to identify people’s most pressing needs and constantly changing priorities. Even though local NGOs are also locally managed, their single functional focus on charity makes them more removed from people’s everyday lives, thus reducing the informal oversight from everyday interactions with local residents.
  • Fourth, the distribution of humanitarian aid is a good fit for the larger mission of religious leaders, as most major religious stress the importance of charity and support for those in need. Islam, for example, emphasizes the obligation of farḍ kifāyah, collective duty, with social services and welfare as key aspects of this obligation. Zakāt (charity giving intended for the poor and often collected by local mosques) is one of the five pillars of Islam, and the practice of zakāt gives mosques the capacity and expertise to manage aid funding. Though the administrative capacity to manage humanitarian funding might not apply to every faith tradition (which can be developed through cooperation with international organizations), the communal nature of religious institutions is shared across most religions in the world.

The strategic cooperation with local faith actors in the delivery of humanitarian aid is not a new idea. In September 2023, for example, USAID published a policy paper on strategic religious engagement in humanitarian assistance and development, which built on a 2004 USAID Rule for Participation by Religious Organizations in receiving USAID funding. in 2017, Oxfam also published a research paper identifying the need to engage with local faith actors in providing humanitarian aid. Among the many advantages of such engagement, working with local religious bodies has the potential to address the lack of accountability that breeds corruption in aid delivery. This is not to say that religious institutions are immune to corruption, or that this approach could work everywhere. But in countries like Yemen, where religion plays such a significant part in the local community’s social life, and where there are reasons to distrust many of the secular NGOs that purport to assist with aid delivery, a focus on partnerships with faith groups may be a promising way to ameliorate the corruption crisis in humanitarian aid.

Islamic States Agree to Anticorruption Convention

On 28 Jumada Al-Awwal, 1444h (December 22, 2022), Anticorruption Ministers of the Organization of Islamic Cooperation agreed to assist one another in preventing, detecting, investigating, and prosecuting corruption crimes.

The Makkah Al-Mukarramah Convention commits OIC’s 57 member states to exchange information and share expertise on bribery, embezzlement, trading in influence, and the other corruption offenses listed in the United Nations Convention Against Corruption. Member states foreign ministers are expected to ratify the Convention by March of this year.

The Convention is an important step forward. For two reasons. One, as a practical matter requests from one OIC member to another for assistance in locating fugitives, securing evidence, or recovering stolen assets often run up against obstacles ranging from outmoded procedures to a lack of trust between law enforcement agencies.

This makes it easy for embezzlers, bribe takers and payers, and other scam artists to escape prosecution.  Not only does the Convention require states to eliminate these barriers, but its creation of a General Secretariat and a Conference of State Parties should help smooth working relations among law enforcement personnel as well as provide a forum for resolving disputes.

The greater impact is surely the Convention’s demonstrative effect. Beyond an immediate effect on behavior, law serves an expressive function, creating and validating social norms. The OIC is in its own words “the collective voice of the Muslim world.” For the representative of the believers in one of the world’s great religions to join the fight against corruption validates and reaffirms the importance of the fight. That the English for “Makkah Al-Mukarramah” is “Holy City of Mecca” serves to emphasize this importance to Muslims of all states.

How Ethno-Religious Divisions Stymie Anticorruption Reform in Malaysia–and What to Do About It

In 2018, Malaysia surmounted the biggest test of its democracy since gaining independence from Britain in 1963—the first democratic transfer of power in the country’s history. That change in leadership occurred in the wake of the 1MDB scandal—one of the largest kleptocracy schemes ever uncovered—which implicated former Prime Minister Najib Razak. The repudiation of Najib and his party, UNMO, in the 2018 election was seen by many as a hopeful sign that the Malaysian people were no longer willing to tolerate the systemic corruption that had long been seen as business as usual. To be sure, the leader of the victorious coalition in the 2018 election—nonagenarian Mahathir Mohamed, who had previously served as Prime Minister from 1983 to 2001—was an unlikely champion of anticorruption and good governance reform. Yet in 2018, Mahathir’s victory was cause for hope that there would finally be genuine systemic reform.

Within two years, that hope had all but vanished. Prime Minister Mahathir was forced to resign in the middle of his first term in office and was replaced by UMNO politician Muhyiddin Yassin, who had served as Deputy Prime Minister under Najib. What went wrong? In an earlier post, I explored how a free press and multi-party government may have contributed to the failure of Mahathir’s coalition. But that is not the whole story. Those democratic institutions were susceptible to manipulation because of the deeply embedded ethnic and religious divisions that have been a defining feature of Malaysian politics since independence. By exacerbating racial and religious tensions, UMNO managed to convince key voting blocs that the biggest threat they faced was not corrupt politicians, but rather their neighbors who look and pray differently. In short, the reformist coalition ultimately failed because the Malaysian populace lost sight of their common enemy: the corrupt system of governance robbing them all.

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