Journal of Human Development, Vol. 4, No.

1, 2003

Civil Society and Accountability

MARY KALDOR
Mary Kaldor is School Professor and Director of the Programme on Global
Civil Society at the Centre for the Study of Global Governance, London
School of Economics, UK

Abstract This paper addresses the question of whether trust in civil society
groups is justified when it comes to giving voice to the poor. It addresses
the issue of accountability as it relates to civil society, defining ‘moral’
accountability as an organization’s accountability towards the people it was
established to help, and procedural accountability as internal management.
It draws a distinction between civil society and non-governmental organiza-
tions, and argues that the contradiction between ‘moral’ and ‘procedural’
accountability applies primarily to non-governmental organizations, a subset
of civil society. Beginning with an overview of the concept of civil society
and the relevance of voice, it develops a typology of civil society actors to
clarify different forms of accountability, and concludes with policy
recommendations.

Key words: Accountability, Civil Society, the State, Non-Governmental

Organisations, Governance, Management

Introduction
It is a paradox of the contemporary period that, at a time when more and
more states all over the world have adopted democratic forms and proce-
dures, there is decreasing trust in elected officials and politicians. This lack
of trust is reflected in growing political apathy, declining membership in
political parties, and low voter turnout in many elections. At the same time,
however, there appears to be more trust in civil society groups, which are
often, wrongly in my view, equated with non-governmental organizations
(NGOs). These groups, which are supposedly independent of the state and
of big companies, are not elected; they are voluntary groups composed of
committed individuals. They have become much more publicly prominent
in the past decade and are often seen as the expression of public morality.
This paper discusses whether this trust is justified in relation to the
world’s poorest people. There is, now, a growing literature on NGO manage-
ment and the problems of accountability (Edwards and Hulme, 1992, 1996;
Fowler, 1997; Hulme and Edwards, 1997; Anheier, 2000; Lewis, 2001). Much
ISSN 1464-9888 print/ISSN 1469-9516 online/03/010005-23 © 2003 United Nations Development Programme
DOI: 10.1080/1464988032000051469
 M. Kaldor

of the literature distinguishes between internal and external accountability,

or between functional and strategic accountability (Edwards and Hulme,
1996). Internal or functional accountability relates to internal management
practises and responsibility for resources. External or strategic accountability,
sometimes called political responsibility (Jordan and Tuijl, 2000), is about
accountability towards the beneficiaries, the people that the NGO is trying
to help; it is about the extent to which an NGO remains true to its stated
mission or goal. I use the term moral accountability to refer to external or
strategic accountability, or political responsibility, and the term procedural
accountability to refer to internal or management accountability.
It is often said that civil society groups have a ‘voice not a vote’
(Edwards, 2000). They are not representative and do not claim to be
representative. Their internal forms of management are irrelevant to their
role in the public arena since what matters is what they have to say not
whether they are internally democratic or representative. The problem
arises, however, when there are conflicts between internal and external
accountability, political and management imperatives. There are cases, in the
humanitarian field, for example, or in the case of biotechnology, where
NGOs have used their ‘voice’ to convey misleading information, which has
the effect of mobilizing political and indeed financial support. There are
other cases where groups claim to represent the very poor in order to raise
funds from outside donors.
In this paper, I argue that contradiction between moral and procedural
accountability applies primarily to NGOs, a subset of civil society. While this
is a relevant, if narrow, issue, the accountability of civil society as a whole
has more to do with the overall meaning and composition of civil society.
To develop this argument, I shall start with a brief historical overview of the
concept of civil society and the relevance of different meanings to the notion
of ‘voice’ as it relates to poor people. In the second part of the paper, I shall
outline a typology of civil society actors that might be helpful in clarifying
different forms of accountability. And in the final section, I will draw
some conclusions and policy recommendations about the accountability of
different types of civil society groups.

What is civil society?

The contemporary term ‘civil society’ has its origins in the early modern
period, the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The term, of course, had
appeared earlier. Like all Western political concepts, it can be traced back to
Greek political philosophy. Aristotle talked about politike koinona (political
community/society) to refer to a rule-governed society in which the ruler
puts the public good before his (not usually her) private interest. The term
was translated into Latin as Societas Civilis.
The renaissance of the concept in the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries was inextricably linked to theories of individual rights and the idea
of a social contract. What was new about the early modern usage of the
term was the assumption of human equality, drawn from Christianity. A civil
6
 Civil Society and Accountability

society was a society where individuals come together to make a social

contract and the outcome of that contract is expressed in the rule of law
and the existence of a state, which is also subject to the law. Juridical equality
applied both to rulers and the ruled. ‘‘When a King has dethroned himself
and put himself in a state of war with his people’’, wrote John Locke, ‘‘what
shall hinder them from prosecuting him who is King, as they would any
other man, who has put himself in a state of war with them?’’ (quoted in
Goldwin, 1987, p. 507)
At that time, there was no distinction between civil society and the
state. A civil society was more or less the same thing as a political society.
Civil society was contrasted not with the state, but with other kinds of
society — despotic empires, for example, or the state of nature. In particular,
a civil society was a peaceful society, a society in which people treated
strangers with civility, in contrast to other violent and ‘rude’ societies.
The Scottish enlightenment thinkers were to augment the concept with
their emphasis on the importance of commercial society. They saw the market
as the condition for individualism and the existence of a civil society. But they
still understood civil society in much the same terms as a rule-governed society
based on the consent of individuals in contrast to the state of nature, where
there were no rules, or with despotic systems where rules were imposed
through coercion. The removal of fear from everyday life provided the condi-
tions for economic exchange based on contract instead of coercion, and for
the public use of reason — freedom (see Ferguson, 1995).
It was Hegel who was first to use the term as something distinct from
the state. Hegel, who was strongly influenced by the Scottish political
economists, defined civil society as ‘‘the realm of difference, intermediate
between the family and the state’’ (1996, pp. 185–186). In other words, civil
society was equated with the economy. Hegel used the term ‘‘bourgeois
society’’ (Bürgerliche Gesellschaft) and this was the definition to be taken
up by Marx and later nineteenth-century thinkers. For Hegel famously, civil
society was ‘‘the achievement of the modern world . . . the territory of
mediation where there is free play for every idiosyncrasy, every talent, every
accident of birth and fortune, and where waves of passion gush forth,
regulated only by reason, glinting through them’’ (quoted in Comaroff and
Comaroff, 1999, p. 3). Thus, the state was viewed as a mediator, resolving
the conflicts of civil society; the civil servants were the ‘universal class’
acting in the public interest.
Marx and Engels were to take up the Hegelian concept of Bürgerliche
Gesellschaft and to emphasize the role of the economy. According to Marx,
the ‘‘material conditions of life. are summed up by Hegel after the fashion of
the English and the French of the eighteenth century under the name ‘civil
society’; the anatomy of civil society is to be sought in political economy’’
(quoted in Bobbio, 1988, p. 78). Unlike Hegel, however, Marx and Engels
argued that the state was subordinate to civil society; they saw the state as
an instrument or apparatus in the hands of the dominant classes. Civil society
was the ‘‘theatre of history . . . Civil Society embraces all the material relations
of individuals within a definite stage of the development of productive
7
 M. Kaldor

forces. It embraces the whole commercial and industrial life of a given stage
and, hence, transcends the State and the nation, though, on the other hand
again, it must assert itself in its foreign relations as nationality and inwardly
must organise itself as state’’ (quoted in Bobbio, 1988, p. 82).
In the twentieth century, the content of the concept has been further
narrowed to forms of social interaction that are distinct from both the state
and the market. Writing in prison, the Italian Marxist Gramsci called into
question the economism of the Marxist definition of civil society. According
to Gramsci, it is not ‘economic structure’ as such that governs political
action, but the ‘interpretation of it’. Thus, the ‘theatre of history’ is not the
story of economic development, but of ideological and cultural struggles.
Gramsci drew an important distinction between coercion and consent,
domination and hegemony. Bourgeois society had established a powerful set
of norms and institutions to sustain the hegemony of bourgeois rule based
on the consent of the working classes. Whereas capitalism was overthrown
in Russia through the capture of the state, this was not possible in the West
where ‘‘there was a proper relation between state and civil society, and
when the state trembled, a sturdy structure of civil society was at once
revealed’’ (quoted in Ehrenberg, 1999, p. 209). Hence, he was to emphasize
the need for political activism in the realms of education, media and other
institutions of civil society.
In contemporary usage, it is possible broadly to distinguish three
different versions of usages of the term.
The first version is what I call the ‘activist’ version. This is the version
that initiated the contemporary revival of the term in both Latin America
and Eastern Europe. The term emerged simultaneously in the 1970s and
1980s, and as far as I know without any communication, in these two regions
as a way of describing the efforts to create autonomous public spaces in the
context of authoritarian states — military dictatorships in Latin America and
totalitarian Communist regimes in Eastern Europe. In Latin America, the
intellectuals who used the term were strongly influenced both by Gramsci
(via the Spanish and Italian Communist parties) and by the ideas of liberation
theology — the notion of the conscientization of the poor, overcoming the
‘culture of silence’ (Howell and Pearce, 2001; Lewis, 2001) In Eastern
Europe, the term arose out of the failure of the Prague spring and the loss
of faith that any change could come ‘from above’ or through overthrow of
the regime. The idea was that instead of trying to change the state, it was
important to change the relation between state and society, to create self-
organized institutions, independent of the state that could challenge the
reach of the state (Michnik, 1985). Terms like ‘antipolitics’ (Konrad, 1984;
Havel, 1985) or ‘living in truth’ (Havel, 1985) expressed the same idea. In
both cases, these new autonomous spaces depended on transnational links,
and this was even before the advent of Internet. It was both the existence
of formal international instruments like the Conventions on Human Rights
or the Helsinki Agreement and the links with peace and human rights groups
in Western countries that helped to open up spaces in these countries (Keck
and Sikkink, 1998; Kaldor, 1991)
8
 Civil Society and Accountability

This understanding of civil society was to be taken up by intellectuals

in Europe and the US, as well as other parts of the world, especially India,
to mean the ‘new politics’ (Arato and Cohen, 1995; Kothari, 1989). It referred
to the idea of a realm outside political parties where individuals and groups
aimed to democratize the state, to re-distribute power, rather than to capture
power in a traditional sense. It was associated with the so-called new social
movements that emerged after 1968, concerned with peace the environment,
women, human rights, and so on. It involved an effort to create a public
space where individuals can act and communicate freely, independent of
both the state and capitalism. According to the German philosopher, Jürgen
Habermas:
The expression ‘civil society’ has in the meantime taken on a
meaning different from that of the ‘bourgeois society’ of the liberal
tradition, which Hegel conceptualised as the ‘system of needs’, that
is, as a market system involving social labour and commodity
exchange. What is meant by ‘civil society’ today, in contrast to its
usage in the Marxist tradition, no longer includes the economy as
constituted by private law and steered through markets in labour,
capital and commodities. Rather, its institutional core comprises
those non-governmental and non-economic connections and volun-
tary associations that anchor the communication structures of the
public sphere in the society component of the life-world. Civil
society is composed of those more or less spontaneously emergent
associations, organisations, and movements that, attuned to how
societal problems resonate in private life spheres, distil and transmit
such reactions to the public sphere. The core of civil society
comprises a network of associations that institutionalises problem-
solving discourses of general interest inside the framework of
organised public spheres. These ‘discursive designs’ have an egalit-
arian, open form of organisation that mirrors essential features of
the kind of communication around which they crystallise and to
which they lend continuity and permanence. (Quoted in Ehrenberg,
1999, pp. 222–223)
The second version of the term ‘civil society’ can be described as the ‘neo-
liberal’ version. This version is much associated with ideas about the ‘third
sector’ or the ‘non-profit sector’ that developed in the US in the 1970s and
1980s. (Etzioni, 1961, Salamon and Anheier, 1996). The idea is that, in the
US, there is a group of organizations that are neither controlled by the state
nor the market, but which play an essential role in facilitating the operation
of both. This concept owes much to the Tocquevillian emphasis on associa-
tionalism and is linked to neo-liberal ideas about minimizing the role of
the state. NGOs, non-profit organizations (NPOs), charities and voluntary
associations are more flexible and innovative than the state. They can
substitute for the state, in providing social services, for example; they can
check abuses of the state and poor governmental practises; and they can call
corporations to account. The ideas of Robert Putnam about social capital
9
 M. Kaldor

and of Francis Fukuyama about trust are in line with this version of civil
society — the notion that trust and social interaction are essential ingredients
of good governance and properly functioning markets.
It is often argued that it is this version that was taken up by Western
donors in the early 1990s. Civil society was needed as a cushion against the
shocks associated with structural adjustment, to provide a social safety net,
for example, at a time when public services were being cut, and to foster
good governance. Market failures and economic crises like those in Asia
were attributed to failures of governance, especially corruption. Civil society,
it was hoped, could correct this.
A third version of civil society is the ‘post-modern’ version. The revival
of the term civil society has been criticized by anthropologists from a
relativist position. Both activist and neo-liberal versions, it is contended, are
a Western discourse. Comaroff and Comaroff (1999) talk about the way civil
society has become a ‘neo-modern’ myth, with its own legitimizing narrative.
They talk about the ‘‘archaeology’’ of civil society ‘‘usually told, layer upon
layer, as a chronological epic of ideas and authors’’ starting with an ‘‘origin
story’’ in the late 1700s. Outside Western Europe and North America, it is
contended, civil society, in the sense of individual rights and voluntary
associations, never extended much beyond a few capital cities (Hann and
Dunn, 1996; Mamdani, 1996; Koonings and Krujit, 1999). Yet there exist
various traditional and neo-traditional organizations, based on kinship or
religion, that remain autonomous from the state and offer alternative sites of
power or autonomous spaces. In Iran, for example, ‘‘various religious and
bazaar institutions and groupings, under powerful mullah patrons, and the
duality of state power between the presidency and the spiritual leadership,
constitute some plurality of power as compared with neighbouring states’’
(Zubaida, 2001, p. 244)
It is usually argued that these groups cannot be included in the concept
of civil society because they may be compulsory associations and they are
often mechanisms for social control, especially the oppression of women.
But the post-modernists suggest that there cannot be an arbitrary division
between ‘good’ westernized civil society and ‘bad’ traditional uncivil society.
Thus, the post-modern version of civil society would argue for a more
culturally sensitive concept, which involves various national and religious
groupings and a contestation of narratives. The Turkish Islamicist Ali Bulac,
for example, promotes the idea of a civil society characterized by self-
governing communities based on religion, with a minimalist state. This idea,
which has parallels with the Ottoman millet system, involves tolerance of
different religions and indeed secularism but, at the same time, it lacks the
individualism of Western models of civil society since the individual is bound
by his/her community. As Zubaida points out, this notion represents an ‘‘odd
mixture of communitarian corporatism and libertarianism’’ (2001, p. 238).
Underlying these different meanings, both historically and in the contem-
porary period, there is, I would contend, a common core of meaning. Civil
society always meant a rule governed society based on the consent of
individuals. In the early versions, the term referred to the whole of society
10
 Civil Society and Accountability

including the state. Different meanings of civil society, I would argue, reflect
the different ways in which consent was negotiated and reproduced. Civil
society could be described as those organizations, groups and movements
who are engaged in this process of negotiation and debate about the
character of the rules — it is the process of expressing ‘voice’. In the
nineteenth century, it was the ‘voice’ of the bourgeoisie that was shaping
the liberal state; hence the identification of civil society as bourgeois society.
With the rise of labour movements, the terrain shifted to struggles of worker
organizations in relation both to the state and to capital; at that time, political
parties could also be viewed as part of civil society. By joining a trade union
or a political party, the ‘voices’ of individual workers could be heard.
Today civil society is transnational, engaged in a process of debate and
negotiation with governments, companies and international organizations.
Moreover, the groups involved have extended beyond urban elites to include
women, indigenous groups and other excluded people. The differing contem-
porary meanings, I would argue, reflect different political perspectives about
the goals of the process of negotiation. For the neo-liberals, the goal is to
export the Western, or even more specifically the American, model of
governance. For the activist, the goal is emancipation, a radical extension of
democracy in the West as well as the South, a goal that is linked to notions
of global justice. The post-modernists are sceptical about the goal-oriented
nature of modernity; they would see the contestation that is currently taking
place on a global scale as a way of breaking with grand narratives, teleological
political projects that were associated with nation-states. The rise of the
Internet allows for a riot of virtuality and for a denial of the existence of
something called the real.
In my view, civil society has to include all the groupings that are
included in the different versions — the relatively passive ‘third sector’ of
the neo-liberal version, the social movements of the activist version, as well
as the neo-traditional groupings of the post-modern version. It is true that
the neo-traditional formation may not provide a voice for individuals because
of their communitarian nature and, indeed, may engage in various forms of
coercion and violence. But actually existing civil society has to contend with
these troublesome and contradictory issues; if it is to be an inclusive concept,
it has to include the exclusive. For the purposes of this report, the goal is
closest to the activist version — the emancipation of the poorest people.
But the degree to which civil society expresses this goal (that is to say,
constitutes a voice for the poorest people) can only be investigated by
including all these various groupings. What James Putzel (1997) calls the
‘dark side of social capital’ has to be incorporated as well.

The actors of civil society

There is, today, a proliferation of language used to describe the non-state
actors in global politics: social movements, NGOs and NPOs, advocacy
networks, civil society organizations, public policy or epistemic networks,
to name but a few. In what follows, I shall distinguish four ideal types, in a
11
 M. Kaldor
TABLE 1. Types of Civil Society Actors

Nationalist and
Social movements NGOs Social organizations religious groups

Mission Emancipation of the Development and Protection and Empowerment of

poor and excluded humanitarian relief promotion of national and religious
members interests groups
Activities Protests, Service provision Service provision, Mobilization through
demonstrations, and advocacy lobbying media, religious
mediatique events organizations, and
sometimes violence
Social Activists, committed Professional staff Workers, farmers, Newly urbanized
composition individuals, students employers, local groups, peasants
communities,
displaced persons
Forms of Loose horizontal Ranges from Ranges from vertical Vertical and
organization coalitions, network bureaucratic and and hierarchical to hierarchical although
corporate to small- informal networks can involve networks
scale and informal of tightly organized
cells, charismatic
leadership

Weberian sense. They are not actually distinct types since they overlap
with each other. But they are useful for thinking about different forms of
accountability. Table 1 illustrates these four types.

Social movements
The first type of civil society actor is social movements. Like civil society
there is a range of definitions of social movements, but it is generally agreed
that social movements are organizations, groups of people, and individuals,
who act together to bring about transformation in society. They are con-
trasted with, for example, more tightly organized NGOs or political parties.
The social movement theorist Sydney Tarrow says that social movements are
an ‘‘invention of the modern age and an accompaniment to the rise of the
modern state’’. At the base of all social movements are what he calls
‘‘contentious politics’’ — action, which is ‘‘used by people who lack regular
access to institutions, who act in the name of new or unaccepted claims and
who behave in ways that fundamentally challenge others or authorities’’
(Tarrow, 1998, p. 3)
Social movements rise and fall. Their success depends both on their
capacity to mobilize and on the responsiveness of authorities. To the
extent that authorities facilitate protest, then social movements are ‘tamed’,
integrated into the political process and institutionalized. ‘Taming’ is not just
about access; it is about adaptation on both sides. The authorities accept
part of the agenda of protest; the movements modify their demands and
become respectable. To the extent that authorities repress protest and reject
demands, social movements are marginalized and may turn to violence.
12
 Civil Society and Accountability

Tarrow talks about cycles of contention; although the endings may differ,
social movements do always come to an end:
Each time they appear, the world seems to be turning upside down.
But just as regularly, the erosion of mobilisation, the polarisation
between sectors of the movements, the splits between institu-
tionalisation and violence, and elites selective use of incentives and
repression combine to bring the cycle to an end. At its height, the
movement is electric and seems irresistible, but it is eroded and
integrated through the political process. (1998, p. 175)
In the twentieth century, it is possible to talk about three waves of social
movements. The first wave was labour and self-determination or anti-colonial
movements. The second wave was what theorists of social movements call
‘new’ social movements. These are the movements that emerged after 1968
and were contrasted with the first wave of ‘old’ movements. The third wave
is the most recent and is often described as the ‘anti-globalization’ movement,
even though only a minority of activists actually wants to reverse
globalization.
The ‘new’ movements after 1968 were concerned with new issues —
human rights, gender, third world solidarity, the environment or peace. In
Europe and North America, they were less concerned with social justice
than ‘old’ movements, although this was not true of movements in the South
where concerns about the environment or the position of women were
directly related to development issues. They expressed the political frustra-
tions of a new educated middle class or brain workers — Information and
Communications Technology (ICT) specialists or the caring professions
(doctors, lecturers, social workers) generated by post-industrialism and the
welfare state (Touraine, 1981). In contrast to the hierarchical mass member-
ship organizations that were characteristic of ‘old’ movements, they pion-
eered new forms of horizontal organization and new forms of protest, making
use of the media, especially television. Whereas the ‘old’ movements aimed
at persuading states to act and in the process helped to strengthen them,
the ‘new’ movements are much more concerned about individual autonomy,
about resisting the state’s intrusion into everyday life (Melucci, 1988, 1996).
Claus Offe has argued that the ‘new’ movements represent a demand for
radical democracy: ‘‘Among the principal innovations of the new movements,
in contrast with the workers’ movement, are a critical ideology in relation
to modernism and progress; decentralised and participatory organisational
structures; defence of interpersonal solidarity against the great bureaucracies;
and the reclamation of autonomous spaces rather than material advantages’’
(quoted in Della Porta and Diani, 1999, p. 12)
It is sometimes also argued that the ‘old’ movements are ‘national’ in
contrast to the cosmopolitan character of the ‘new’ social movements. But
the ‘old’ movements were not originally national. The labour movement was
always an international movement. The first international of labour was held
in 1864; workers travelled to different countries to express solidarity with
their fellow workers from the late nineteenth century onwards; the Inter-
13
 M. Kaldor

national Federation of Trades Unions was founded in 1901. Self-determination

or anti-colonial movements always appealed to universalistic conceptions of
rights. The identification of ‘old’ movements as national is the consequence
of the cycle of contention. ‘Old’ movements did primarily address the state,
although not exclusively, but it was through the state that ‘old’ movements
were ‘tamed’. These movements were transformed into political parties and,
in the case of trades unions, into negotiating partners for states and employers
at a national level. The mass character of the ‘old’ movements, their vertical
and hierarchical forms of organization, are all perhaps explainable in terms
of the organizational norms of industrial, bureaucratic and military society.
It can be argued that the growth of NGOs in the 1990s in part reflected
the ‘taming’ of the new social movements. In contrast to ‘old’ social
movements, they were ‘tamed’ not within a national framework, but within
the framework of global governance, as I shall argue later. The third wave of
social movements, which emerged at the very end of the century, can be
viewed as a reaction to the ‘taming’ of the second wave. It involves a revival
of the pre-occupations with social justice characteristic of the first wave but
makes use of many of the methods of the second wave. It brings together
elements of the ‘new’ social movements and their ‘tamed’ successors, NGOs,
concerned with women’s issues, development or the environment. It involves
students and brainworkers, like the second wave movements. But it also
embraces landless peasant movements, as in Brazil, and indigenous people’s
movements like the Zapatistas, or the tribal people in India. It also includes a
‘new’ labour movement encompassing: international trade union federations,
who have been forced to reform after the Cold War when their activities
were hamstrung by ideological divisions; new social movement unions
in Brazil, South Africa or Korea; new forms of labour organizations like
homeworkers in India or African township traders; as well as labour-oriented
grass-roots groups and NGOs in various parts of the world.

Non-governmental organizations
NGOs are organizations; that is to say, ‘purposeful, role-bound social units’
(Fowler, 1997, p. 20). They are voluntary, in contrast to compulsory organiza-
tions like the state or some traditional, religious organizations, and they do
not make profits, like corporations. It is sometimes said that they are ‘value-
driven’ organizations (Brett, 1993). In fact, values like public service, for
example, or wealth creation are also important for states and for corporations.
Rather, it could be said that, in any organization, both internal relationships
and relations with external actors are regulated through a combination of
coercion, monetary incentives, and altruism (or values). In the case of NGOs,
the latter is relatively more important.
There is a bewildering array of terms used to describe this type of
organization. The term NGO is most commonly used in the development
and international relations literature. The term was first used in Article 71 of
the UN Charter, where the Economic and Social Committee is empowered
‘‘to make suitable arrangements for consultation with non-governmental
14
 Civil Society and Accountability

organisations which are concerned with matters in its competence’’ (Gord-

enker and Weiss, 1996, p. 22). The term NPO is more widespread in Japan
and the US, and is often used in the economics and sociology literature; it
tends to be used when the concern is to classify or categorize sections of
the economy or society. In Britain, the terms most widely used are ‘voluntary
associations’ or ‘charities’, reminiscent of the philanthropic tradition. More
radical writers, especially those in the social movement tradition, prefer the
term Civil Society Organization, which defines these organizations in their
own right and not in contrast to something else (governments or corpora-
tions). The term Civil Society Organization has the advantage of emphasizing
the public nature of these organizations.
NGOs are not new. In many countries there has been a long tradition
of voluntary philanthropy, and associationalism. International NGOs (INGOs)
were already established in the nineteenth century. The most famous
examples are probably the Anti-Slavery Society (1839) and the International
Red Cross (1864). By 1874, there were 32 registered INGOs and this had
increased to 1083 by 1914, although not all survived (Chatfield, 1997).
INGOs were instrumental in setting up international institutions, during this
period, many of which began as non-governmental institutions (Charnowitz,
1997). They also influenced treaty making, particularly in the case of anti-
slavery, and many of the techniques that INGOs use today were pioneered
during this period, particularly parallel fora at inter-governmental
conferences.
The number of INGOs increased during the post-war period not only
under the stimulation of new social movements, but also as former missionar-
ies and colonial administrators sought new occupations. In the 1950s and
1960s, however, their influence was constrained by the Cold War and the
statist character of many of the post-war international institutions. It was not
until the 1970s that the opening up of access for ‘new’ social movements to
local and international institutions led to the proliferation of both NGOs in
general and INGOs in particular. Initially, this opening up applied mainly to
‘soft’ issues that did not seem to engage directly with the ideological
conflict, mainly the environment and women. The Stockholm Conference
on Environment and Development in 1972 marked the beginning of the
parallel summit as a way of organizing global civil society organizations on
particular issues. Likewise, a series of world conferences on women helped
to galvanize women’s groups: Mexico City in 1975, Copenhagen in 1980,
Nairobi in 1985 and Beijing in 1995 (Chen, 1997).
By the 1980s, development and humanitarian NGOs also began to be
seen as partners for governments and international institutions for a variety of
reasons; their local knowledge, the need to bypass ineffective or authoritarian
governments, and, in particular, the need to find ways to implement structural
adjustment packages. A number of writers stress the importance of the ‘New
Policy Agenda’, which came to prominence after the end of the Cold War,
and which combines neo-liberal economic strategy with an emphasis on
parliamentary democracy. NGOs were seen as an important mechanism for
implementing this agenda. They can provide a social safety net without
15
 M. Kaldor

extending the role of the government. They can provide training in demo-
cracy and citizenship. They can check abuses of the state and poor govern-
mental practises. And they can push corporations towards an agenda of social
responsibility. Concepts like ‘social capital’ (Putnam) or ‘trust’ (Fukuyama)
contributed to the new found enthusiasm for NGOs both by development
institutions like the World Bank and in the peace and human rights field.
These openings have encouraged institutionalization and professionaliza-
tion, the transformation of social movements into NGOs or INGOs. During
the 1990s, registered INGOs increased by one-third, from 10 292 to 13 206
and their memberships increased from 155 000 to 263 000 over the same
period (Global Civil Society, 2001). Funding by official agencies and private
foundations have led to the development of a market for NGOs, in which
donors influence the culture and management style of NGOs, and successful
NGOs transform themselves into a kind of oligopoly. OECD figures show
that, by the end of the 1990s, some 5% of all official aid is channelled
through NGOs, with differing shares for different countries. Some 85% of
Swedish aid is channelled through NGOs and some 10% of UK aid.
The growth of NGOs has been described by Lester Salamon as the
‘global associational revolution’. The Johns Hopkins Survey of the non-profit
sector in 22 countries showed that this sector had contributed significantly
to employment growth in the 1980s and 1990s. The sector accounted for
some 5.1% of total employment in the countries surveyed and some 10.4
million volunteers, bringing the total to 7.1% of total employment (Anheier,
2000). NGOs vary from large-scale NGOs organized both on corporate lines
and on bureaucratic lines to small-scale local NGOs. Some of the biggest
NGOs are in the development and relief field, where there are some eight
market leaders, each with a budget of roughly $500 million a year; they
include famous names like Oxfam, Médecins Sans Frontières, Save the
Children or CARE (Hulme and Edwards, 1997).
NGOs undertake a wide variety of tasks, not of all of which are captured
by the headings ‘advocacy’ and ‘service provision’. Service provision includes
relief in emergencies, primary health care, non-formal education, housing
and legal services, and provision of micro-credit as well as training to other
service providers. Advocacy includes lobbying as well as public mobilization
and campaigning around particular issues like debt relief or the Tobin tax or
protection of forests. And then there are a range of activities, which can be
included under both headings like monitoring compliance with international
treaties, particularly in the human rights field, conflict resolution and recon-
ciliation, public education and the provision of alternative expert knowledge.
Korten suggests that development NGOs follow a typical cycle, moving
from concern with immediate relief, to projects concerned with local
development, to advocacy relating to the wider institutional and policy
context. But others have argued that the cycle may work the other way
round as ‘new’ social movements acting primarily as advocates transform
themselves into service providers to gain credibility among local populations
or as a way of ensuring their survival (see Lewis, 2001). Service provision
has become more important in the 1990s as donors have contracted or
16
 Civil Society and Accountability

encouraged NGOs to fill the gaps created by the withdrawal of the state
from many public services.
NGOs, as a consequence both of their ‘tamed’ character and of their
experience as service providers, are able to act as interlocutors on issues
with which new social movements are concerned. In addition, many have
built up expert knowledge on particular policy areas, which enables them
to challenge the official experts. This is why think tanks and international
Commissions should be included in this category. Like many of the NGOs,
think tanks are a source of alternative expert knowledge. International
Commissions are another ‘taming’ device in which independent groups of
prominent individuals and experts are brought together to produce reports
on issues of global significance. The Brandt and Brundlandt Commissions
pioneered this approach on development and the environment, respectively.
In the 1990s, this type of commission has proliferated — for example, the
World Commission on Dams.
It is sometimes argued that NGOs and think tanks are predominantly
Western or Northern. It is certainly true that the culture and organization of
NGOs has been influenced by Western models and that much funding is
Western. But it is also the case that NGOs are a worldwide phenomenon
and some of the largest NGOs, like the Bangladesh Rural Advancement
Committee, are to be found in the South. In the 1990s, a new phenomenon
has been the emergence of global networks, which involve NGOs, social
movements, as well as grass roots groups coming together to campaign
around particular issues, like land mines or HIV/AIDS. The distinction
between Northern and Southern NGOs is conceptual rather than geograph-
ical. It is a distinction between NGOs who are outsiders and, at the same
time, are closer to the policy-making community as well as to the sources of
funds, and those NGOs more rooted in the local environment.
There are wide differences among NGOs concerning their forms of
organization — formal versus informal, hierarchy versus participation, net-
works versus federations, centralized versus decentralized, not to mention
differences of organizational culture. Some NGOs are membership organiza-
tions; others are governed by boards or trustees. Moreover, the meaning of
membership varies. In Amnesty International, for example, the members are
the ‘owners’ of the organization and determine its decision-making. By
contrast, the members of Greenpeace are more like supporters passively
donating money and numbers. Some NGOs organize themselves on bureau-
cratic principles; others are more corporate in management style.
Transnationalization and the growing use of ICT does tend to favour decen-
tralized, network-type organizations.

Social organizations
The third type of civil society actor is what I call ‘social organizations’.
Properly speaking, they should be included in the category NGOs since they
are value-driven, voluntary, non-profit organizations. But I have counted them
as a separate category because their aims, internal organization and funding
17
 M. Kaldor

differ from what we typically consider to be NGOs. By social organizations,

I mean organizations representing particular sectors of society defined in
social terms rather than in cultural or religious terms. Thus, this category
typically includes professional organizations (societies of lawyers, doctors,
employers, trades unions or farmers) community groups of women or youth,
for example, as well as groups of disabled people, displaced persons and
refugees, homeless people, landless labourers or groups of tribespersons.
These organizations rarely receive outside funding and are largely dependent
on the resources of members. Many of these groups represent poor people
and, thus, their goals are similar to those of the development and relief
NGOs. But the goals are concrete, expressed in terms of the interests of
members, rather than abstract. Social organizations are not new even in the
South; they can be traced back to the guilds and trade associations of the
Middle Ages, which existed in urban areas in the Middle East and Asia as
well as Europe even if their voluntary nature was less assured.
Social organizations could be said to be mutual benefit organizations
in contrast to the solidaristic character of NGOs. Solidaristic NGOs are
organizations whose staff and members care about the poor and the deprived
but do not represent or comprise the poor and the deprived. Thus, Oxfam
was established to help poor people in the Third World; Amnesty Inter-
national was established to help political prisoners. Social organizations are
formed for the mutual benefit of the members like, for example, the Self-
Employed Women’s Association in India. Professional societies are typical
mutual benefit organizations.
This type of organization is an expression of the structure of society
and it changes as society changes. The period of the 1990s has been a period
of rapid structural changes both because of globalization and International
Monetary Fund policies and because of rapid technological change especially
the introduction of ICT. Many of the traditional social organizations have
been eroded and their political links broken; this is especially true of trades’
unions and farmers organizations. On the other hand, new organizations
have been developing to defend the rights of the victims of rapid structural
change, although these, of course, are as yet weak. Such groups include
movements of people in areas threatened by dam construction, like the
Narmada valley, new organizations of informal workers as described earlier,
organizations of refugees and displaced persons like the Srebrenica women.

National or religious movements

The fourth and final category is national or religious groups. These are
organizations based on particular sections of society, defined in terms of
culture, kin or religion. Although numbers are not available, these groups
and movements have increased dramatically during the 1990s, and in many
countries they have reached positions of power. They are sometimes
described as neo-traditional groups although they have generally been recon-
structed in the context of globalization and with the use of Internet and
other new technologies. In some respects, these movements are similar to
18
 Civil Society and Accountability

‘old’ social movements, in that they are often mass movements, which
include workers and peasants as well as the middle classes, and they are
organized in traditional hierarchical ways, often with charismatic leaders.
But they differ from ‘old’ nationalist movements, movements for self-deter-
mination, in certain important ways. First, they tend to be movements based
on exclusive identity politics; that is to say, they are claims to political power
on the basis of a label, generally ethnic, which excludes and is indeed hostile
towards others with a different label. Self-determination movements were
about democracy, participation and rights not about ethnicity or religion,
about inclusion within the framework of a nation-state. Or they are move-
ments based on exclusive missionary politics; that is to say, claims to political
power on the basis of religious practise, which also excludes others with
different or non-religious practises. Both types of group tends to be authori-
tarian and backward looking, a reaction against modernity, as opposed to
‘old’ movements that saw themselves as agents of progress, building the
modern state. Indeed, in many cases, the new nationalist and religious groups
are ways of mobilizing against democracy and openness.
There are, of course, exceptions. Nationalist movements in places like
Scotland or Transylvania aim to decentralize democracy, they are organized
in a much more participatory way and are much more inclusive, although
they have their fundamentalist wings. Or there are groups, like in Turkey
and indeed Bosnia, who do not necessarily claim political power, but want
to organize society along communal lines.
They differ from ‘old’ nationalist movements in other respects as well. In
some cases, like Al-Qaeda, they are organized as horizontal networks rather
than vertical mass movements, with tightly organized cells. Moreover, they
have adapted some of the methods of the ‘new’ social movements. They
engage in symbolic politics; epitomized in the destruction of the World Trade
Towers. In particular, they make use of the media, particularly television,
radio, and videos. Videotapes are a particularly important form of dissemina-
tion; cassettes of Bin Laden’s speeches circulate throughout the Middle East.
And they organize transnationally; powerful Diaspora groups often lobby on
their behalf in centres of power, both national and international.
Religious and national groups tend to be populist and they succeed in
reaching out to poor people in a way that neither the ‘new’ social movements
nor the NGOs have been able to do. Nationalist movements were always
middle-class movements, especially in the nineteenth century. As yet, insuffi-
cient research has been undertaken on the new movements, but it seems
clear that membership tends to be composed of newly urbanized middle
classes, fearful of losing the gains that have come with economic growth in
recent years. A particularly important group of adherents are young men,
students or unemployed frustrated by the lack of opportunities and the
exclusions of a globalized world. Nevertheless, it does seem also that, in
many places, these groups and movements have succeeded in relaying a
populist message and reaching out particularly to the countryside. Television,
videos and radio have been particularly important in this respect in mobilizing
a rural population unused to reading. These groups provide a sense of
19
 M. Kaldor

ontological security in a society that is rapidly changing, although it is a form

of security based on belief and fear rather than material conditions.
As for human development goals, these neo-traditional groups are mixed.
Many nationalist or communalist movements are neo-liberal. This is true of
the BJP in India, Jorg Haidar in Austria or the Northern League in Italy. Many,
particularly Islamic, groups provide social services and humanitarian relief
and, indeed, dependence on these organizations is also a method of recruit-
ment. Many are linked to criminal activities of various kinds and their socio-
economic strategies are indefinable.
These different types of actors correspond roughly to different under-
standings of civil society. Thus, the neo-liberal version of civil society largely
consists of NGOs. The post-modern version includes religious and nationalist
groups. And the main focus of the activist version is social movements and
social organizations.

Moral and procedural accountability of civil society actors

Broadly speaking, moral accountability arises from the mission of the civil
society actor. Who is responsible for ensuring that the activities are designed
to fulfil the mission? Most civil society actors have some sort of procedural
accountability, which depends on the social composition of the group, forms
of funding and the type of organization. To what extent do mechanisms of
procedural accountability help to ensure moral accountability? All of the
civil society actors already described are engaged in a debate about how to
help the poor and deprived; in that sense they constitute or they claim to
constitute a voice for the poor and deprived. But the balance of these two
types of accountability varies for each of the different types, and this has
implications for the balance of different voices.
The ‘anti-globalization’ movement is the main contemporary social
movement. It is composed of a range of groups, social organizations, NGOs,
and committed individuals. It involves many different voices, ranging from
far-reaching radicals, who propose the abolition of global institutions or,
more positively, the free movement of labour, to reformists campaigning
about Third World debt or in favour of a Tobin tax. The shared mission is
global solidarity, justice for the world’s poor, although there are many
differences about how this is to be achieved. Although individual bits of the
movement may have their own procedural accountability mechanisms, the
main procedural mechanism is rough and ready, as with all social move-
ments — the capacity to mobilize. The movement depends on its capacity
to mobilize; that is, on the extent it is seen to be fulfilling its mission. Since
the movement depends largely on the voluntary energies of those engaged
in the movement, these can easily be withdrawn.
It is often argued that the ‘anti-globalization’ movement is largely com-
posed of middle-class Northern groups, whose ideas do not necessarily accord
with those in the South. It is true that INGOs are predominantly based in the
North but the anti-globalization movement does not primarily consist of
INGOs. It is also the case that most of the participants in parallel summits, the
20
 Civil Society and Accountability

most visible moments of the anti-globalization movement, are from industrial-

ized countries (Global Civil Society, 2001). This is largely because most parallel
summits take place in Europe. But this is changing; in 2001, some 28% of
parallel summits took place in Latin America (Global Civil Society, 2002). Of
special importance has been the World Social Forum in Porto Allegre; in 2002,
there were some 50 000 participants mostly from Latin America.
In addition, it is argued that the participation of groups through the
Internet only reaches a small minority since the poorest people, by and
large, do not have access to the Internet. However, reports of every day civil
society events, such as demonstrations on issues of social justice — for
example, in Argentina against structural adjustment packages, in India or the
Philippines about dams — indicate that these are larger and even more
frequent in the South (see chronology in Global Civil Society, 2001).
The accountability of NGOs is more problematic. The problem arises,
fundamentally, from the solidaristic character of NGOs, the fact that donors
are not the same as beneficiaries. This contrasts with other types of organiza-
tions. Governments, for example, receive taxes in exchange for the provision
of public services; in theory, at least, the citizen is both donor and beneficiary.
Through elections and parliamentary scrutiny, the government is called to
account for its behaviour. Companies receive payments in exchange for
goods and services, and they receive funding for investment in exchange for
interest and dividend payments. The customers, banks and shareholders are
both donors and beneficiaries.
This is not the case for NGOs. Most NGOs have internal management
structures. They have boards, executive committees, and directors, to whom
the staff reports. But they also have responsibility to external actors. They
have to account for the use of financial resources to donors. And they are
responsible to their beneficiaries, the people they are supposed to help. And
finally, public opinion is also important for the survival of NGOs; how they
are reported in the media is an important mechanism for generating
resources. Thus, unlike governments and companies, NGOs have no ‘bottom
line’. Governments are responsible to their electorates — they can be voted
out of office. Companies depend on profits to survive.
During the 1990s, there has been a rapid growth of NGOs, who provide
services and who are funded by Northern donors. This has given rise to the
charge that NGOs do not necessarily serve development goals.
First of all, it is argued that growing dependence on particular donors
may distort the priorities or mission of NGOs; indeed, in some cases, NGOs
have been described as parastatal organizations, or government subcon-
tractors. Since NGOs can bypass formal state mechanisms of accountability
and, at the same time, substitute for state functions, this could potentially
reduce rather than enhance the power of citizens. Bangladesh, where NGOs
have become such important actors, has been described as the ‘Franchise
State’ (Wood, 1997). It can also lead to a damping down of the advocacy
role of NGOs since NGOs are fearful of losing their sources of income; in
Afghanistan, for example, no American NGO even questioned the official air
drop of humanitarian supplies, although European NGOs did so. Advocacy
21
 M. Kaldor

may also be weakened because powerful government-funded NGOs may

displace local community groups or social organizations, as has been
observed in Latin America and India (Allano-Lopez and Petras, 1994). In
extreme cases, it is argued that NGOs are merely the ‘handmaidens of
capitalist change’, with little serious concern for effective poverty alleviation
strategies. They are seen as the ‘‘modernisers and destroyers of local econo-
mies’’, introducing Western values and bringing about ‘‘economicide’’. (For
a discussion of this perspective, see Lewis (2001, p. 32).)
Likewise, there is a newly emerging relation between NGOs and compan-
ies. As part of the new commitment to social responsibility, companies
undertake social and environmental programmes through subcontracting
NGOs. It is sometimes argued that NGOs who implement this type of
programme are contributing to what is essentially a public relations exercise
where ‘good works’ conceal the longer-term strategic damage inflicted by
the companies. According to this line of argument, oil companies in Nigeria
and Angola, for example, undertake this type of programme, while at the
same time oil revenues are fuelling conflict and oil exploitation, however
well managed, is contributing to environmental degradation.
Second, the growth of the predominant type of Northern NGO has led
to an intense competition among NGOs — an emerging ‘marketplace of
ideas, funders, backers and supporters’ (Lewis, 2001, p. 199). To sustain
themselves financially, NGOs need to identify a market niche, and to distin-
guish the NGOs brand name from others. This contradicts the co-operative
practises, which ought to and often do take place as a consequence of the
normative character of the mission, the value-driven nature of NGOs. As
Fowler puts it: ‘‘Increasing market profile and income share is now a
common concern of Northern NGDO’s [non-governmental development
organisations] fundraising; overstating impact is widespread; distortions in
fund-raising images are a frequent complaint of NGDOs from the South and
East; and the lack of transparency is a source of disquiet in development
circles and the media’’ (1997, p. 30). A particular problem arises from the
dependence of NGOs on media coverage. There is a tendency to exaggerate
crises in order to mobilize public support, as in the case of Greenpeace and
Brent Spa or the crisis in Eastern Zaire in 1995.
The third type of actor is social organizations. Since they are mutual
benefit organizations, their concerns about issues of social justice are likely
to coincide with the concerns of their members. Thus, for this type of
organization, there is a clear correspondence between procedural and moral
accountability. Obviously, these organizations are sectoral and their concern
is with their members not with all members of the community. Hence their
behaviour will depend on the type of group they represent, the coalitions
in which they engage, and the dialogue and discussions both externally and
internally that help to change strategy. The organization representing the
women of Srebrenica is interesting in this respect. Initially, it was strongly
influenced by the Islamic nationalist party, who tried to use the women for
propaganda purposes. But over time, the organization has come to recognize
that the best interests of its members is served through co-operation with
22
 Civil Society and Accountability

other displaced groups, even if they come from different nationalities (Freizer
and Kaldor, 2001).
The fourth actor is national and religious groups. Of course, there are
religious groups like Christian Aid or the Aga Khan Foundation whose
behaviour is not different from other NGOs. The ‘new’ nationalist and
religious groups are those that have reconstructed tradition in the context
of globalization. The mission of these groups is national or spiritual and,
presumably, this reflects the concerns of its members. But forms of proced-
ural accountability are murky. Typically, these are vertically organized, under
the leadership of individuals, spiritual and/or charismatic leaders. These
are communitarian movements, where the community comes before the
individual and where there is not much space for individual influence in
determining the overall interests of the community. Particularly, in the case
of religious groups, these interests depend on scriptural interpretations
of priests and mullahs. In addition, funding imperatives may allow for
disproportionate influence from particular groups, in the Diaspora, for
example, or for the justification of action that may not seem to accord with
the mission — drug trading, for example, or loot and pillage.
It can be argued that, during the 1990s, NGOs and national and religious
movements were the strongest actors in civil society. The anti-globalization
movement only became significant towards the end of the decade. Social
organizations were weakened by structural change. Both the growth of
NGOs and the growth of national and religious groups have to be understood
as one component of the process of globalization. NGOs were actively
encouraged by global institutions as a way of coping with the process of
structural change. The growth of national and religious movements can be
understood as a reaction to the insecurities that accompanied structural
change as well as the failure and decline of earlier emancipatory project that
appealed to ordinary people like socialism or post-colonial nationalism. In
other words, neo-liberal and post-modern versions of civil society and activist
concerns were weakest. Moreover, as I have argued, these two types of civil
society actors (NGOs and nationalist and religious groups) are, perhaps, the
least accountable to the poorest people. The NGOs aim to help the poorest
people but their methods are more determined by donors than poor people
themselves; they cannot represent the ‘voice’ of the poor. National and
religious groups may have a greater claim to represent the ‘voice’ of the
downtrodden but they give greater priority to identity than to poverty
reduction.
What then can be done to increase the accountability of civil society
actors to the poorest people? The implication of the argument so far is the
need to strengthen activist understandings of civil society. This is both a
cognitive exercise, involving a rethinking of the normative meaning of civil
society, and a practical task in enhancing the voice of social movements and
social organizations. How might this be done?
First it is important for global institutions, international institutions and
governments not to privilege NGOs in debates about social justice. NGOs
are the respectable end of civil society; they can engage in the institutional
23
 M. Kaldor

discourse and, indeed, contribute knowledge and ideas. Dialogue with social
movements and social organizations is a way to increase the voice of poor
people, even though such a dialogue is more difficult and contentious. NGOs
find it much easier to use the discourse of the institutions and, for this
reason, are able to act as interlocutors for other civil society actors, but they
should not be privileged. This difficult dialogue with the anti-globalization
movement was beginning after Genoa but has been halted in the wake of
September 11; it needs to be revived.
There have been plenty of proposals for a ‘structured voice’ for civil
society groups. In my view, what is important is not so much the particular
forum for dialogue, but rather the culture and political commitment to such
a dialogue. There is a tendency not to take seriously the difficult and radical
groups. But it is they who have to be brought in to the dialogue even if it
involves confrontation rather than civilized conversation.
There is always a problem about who to involve in such a dialogue. But
there could be mechanisms developed through which the various civil
society groups decide themselves who should ‘represent’ them, rather than
having the institutions pick and choose. This does not preclude handpicked
participants at seminars or workshops designed for particular purposes. But
it would mean that the core of the dialogue would be initiated through a
bottom-up rather than top-down process.
Second, mechanisms need to be developed to regulate the activities of
NGOs. NGOs do have important skills and experience to offer and it would
be a pity if disenchantment with the accountability process reduced their
role in development and relief. There have already been many proposals in
this vein in the NGO management literature. Michael Edwards, in particular,
has useful suggestions for self-regulation, while Anheier emphasizes the
importance of developing grievance mechanisms.
The most important way to increase the accountability of NGOs is to
bring donors and beneficiaries much closer together. There are several
possible ways this might be achieved. One is to involve beneficiaries in
performance assessment. Fowler proposes ‘interpretative’ rather than ‘scien-
tific’ forms of assessment. This means assessments based on the subjective
opinions of the various stake-holders — donors, staff, boards, beneficiaries
and outside evaluators — in contrast to the formalistic ‘logframes’ of donors.
Oxfam has introduced Assemblies to debate the future of the organization.
Another mechanism is the process known as ‘social audit’, in which the
various stakeholders are involved in negotiating and periodically assessing a
set of criteria through which the NGO or project should be judged; this is
an approach adopted by the UK NGO Tradecraft (Zadek and Evans, 1993).
The UK’s contribution to the New Enhanced Partnership for Africa is being
undertaken on a similar principle, with aid guaranteed for 15 years on the
basis of negotiated targets that will be periodically re-assessed.
Another method is participatory budgeting; finding ways in which
beneficiaries can be directly involved in funding decisions, especially in the
case of large institutionalized donors. Porto Alegre in Brazil offers an interest-
ing example of ways in which community groups can be brought into the
24
 Civil Society and Accountability

budgetary process not as a substitute, but as a supplement to formal

processes. Likewise in South Africa, some local governments have established
forums, which allow for institutionalized consultation with local community
groups.
There are, of course advantages to diversity in funding; there are
imaginative individual donors who support innovative projects. But large
institutional donors could try to develop ways in which at least part of the
money they disburse is controlled or influenced by the people they are
trying to help.
Third, the ‘voice’ of national and religious groups should be expressed.
These groups have to be involved in a dialogue both with the institutions
and with other civil society actors. There is a dialogue among social
movements, NGOs and social organizations but the national and religious
groups tend not to be part of this dialogue. How should the neo-traditional
groups be included? One problem is that their concerns are with religious
and national goals not with human development. Herein lies a dilemma.
What if it turns out that the poor want Islamic rule rather than human
development? That viewpoint has to have space to be expressed. Those of
us, who have faith in reason, would argue that, given a free communicative
space, a conclusion would be reached favourable to human development.
However, excluding that viewpoint could lead to its opposite — the spread
of oppressive national and religious regimes.
But how is this space to be created? The neo-traditional groups usually
have no internal democracy. If the neo-traditional groups are free to choose
who speaks on their behalf, it will be the ‘reliable’ people in leadership
positions not those who might be swayed by discussion. This is why it is so
important that a dialogue among civil society groups take place, since
these groups are more able to engage the grass roots than governmental
institutions.
Moreover, the issue of violence needs to be addressed. This is not only
a problem for the national and religious groups. Violence is unfortunately a
form of voice. It is also a way of suppressing voice. In Seattle, Prague and
Genoa, violence catapulted the anti-globalization protests into the public eye
and acted as a kind of shock tactic to donors and corporations. There are
plenty of similar examples elsewhere. In Kosovo and Macedonia, for example,
the issue of Albanian rights was not taken seriously until guerrilla groups
appeared on the scene. Since September 11, much more attention has been
paid to Islamic grievances. On the other hand, violence discredits moderate
voices. Violence is polarizing and squeezes those who seek more democratic
ways of expressing discontent. Violence has to be dealt with not just through
criminal procedures, but also through strengthening non-violent forms of
voice. How this can be done needs to be included in the dialogue.
One of the reasons that there is less trust in politicians and elected
officials is that debates at a national level no longer determine policy, that
important decisions that affect everyday life are taken at both global and
local levels. How is it possible to develop mechanisms through which the
poorest people feel they have a say in how these decisions are taken? Civil
25
 M. Kaldor

society is not a substitute for formal democratic processes; rather, it is a way

of strengthening the substantive character of democracy, of developing a
political culture at a global, as well as national and local level, through which
those who are formally responsible for making decisions are responsive to
the needs and concerns of the poorest people.
Civil society has become the buzzword of the 1990s but it has tended
to be equated with NGOs. I have tried to argue that other types of civil
society groups and other understandings of civil society need to be taken
seriously as well. In the wake of September 11 this is no longer just a goal
to be pursued by those who care about the poor, it is an imperative if we
are to live in a relatively non-violent world.

References
Anheier, Helmut K. (2000) ‘Managing non-profit organisations: towards a new approach’,
Civil Society Working Papers, Number 1, Centre for Civil Society, LSE, London, January.
Anheier, Helmut, Glasius, Marlies and Kaldor, Mary (2001) Global Civil Society 2001, Oxford
University Press, Oxford.
Arato, Andrew and Cohen, Jean (1995) Civil Society and Political Theory, MIT Press,
Cambridge.
Arllano-Lopez, S. and Petras, J.F. (1994) ‘Non-governmental organisations and poverty allevi-
ation in Bolivia’, Development and Change, 25, pp. 555–568.
Bobbio, Noberto (1988) ‘Gramsci and the concept of civil society’, in Keane (Ed.) Democracy
and Civil Society, Verso, London.
Brett, E.A. (1993) ‘Voluntary agencies as development organisations: theorising the problem
of efficiency and accountability’, Development and Change, 24, pp. 269–303.
Charnowitz, Steve (1997) ‘Two centuries of participation: NGOs and international govern-
ance’, Michigan Journal of International Law, Winter, 18(2).
Chatfield, Charles (1997) ‘Inter-governmental and non-governmental associations to 1945’, in
Jackie Smith, Charles Chatfield, and Ron Pagnucco (Eds), Transnational Social Movements
and Global Politics, Syracuse University Press, Syracuse, NY.
Chen, Martha Alter (1997) ‘Engendering world conferences: the International Women’s
Movement and the UN’, in Leon Gordenker and Thomas G. Weiss (Eds), NGOs, the UN
and Global Governance, Lynne Reinner, Boulder, CO.
Comaroff, John L. and Comaroff, Jean (Eds) (1999) Civil Society and the Political Imagination
in Africa: Critical Perspectives, University of Chicago Press, Chicago, IL.
Della Porta, Donatella and Diani, Mario (1999) Social Movements: An Introduction, Blackwell,
Oxford.
Edwards, Michael (2000) NGO Rights and Responsibilities: A New Deal for Global Govern-
ance, The Foreign Policy Centre in association with NCVO, London.
Edwards, Michael and Hulme, David (1992) Making a Difference: NGOs and Development
in a Changing World, Earthscan, London.
Edwards, Michael and Hulme, David (1996) Beyond the Magic Bullet: NGO Performance and
Accountability in the Post-Cold War World, Earthscan, London.
Ehrenberg, John (1999) Civil Society: The Critical History of an Idea New York, University
Press, New York and London.
Etzioni, A. (1961) A Comparative Analysis of Complex Organisations: On Power, Involvement
and their Correlates, Free Press of Glencoe, New York.
Ferguson, Adam (1995) An Essay on the History of Civil Society (first published 1767),
Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.
Fowler, Alan (1997) Striking a Balance: A Guide to Enhancing the Effectiveness of Non-
Governmental Organisations in International Development, Earthscan, London.
Freizer, S. and Kaldor, M. (2002) ‘Civil society in Bosnia and Herzegovina’, paper prepared

26
 Civil Society and Accountability
for DFID project on ‘Strengthening Democratic Governance in Conflict Torn Societies’,
Unpublished.
Glasius, Marlies, Kaldor, Mary and Anheier, Helmut (2002) Global Civil Society 2002, Oxford
University Press, Oxford.
Goldwin, Robert A. (1987) ‘John Locke’, in Leo Strauss and Joseph Cropsey (Eds), History of
Political Philosophy, 3rd edition, University of Chicago Press, Chicago, IL and London.
Gordenker, Leon and Weiss, Thomas G. (Eds) (1996) NGOs, the UN and Global Governance,
Lynne Reinner, Boulder, CO.
Hann, Chris and Dunn, Elizabeth (Eds) (1996) Civil Society: Challenging Western Models,
Routledge, London and New York.
Havel, Vaclav (1985) ‘The power of the powerless’, in John Keane (Ed.), The Power of the
Powerless: Citizens Against the State in Central-Eastern Europe, Hutchinson, London.
Hegel, G.W.F. (1996) The Philosophy of Right (1820), translated by S. W. Dyde, originally
published in English in 1896, Prometheus Books, London.
Howell, Jude and Pearce, Jenny (2001) Civil Society and Development: A Critical Exploration,
Lynne Rienner, Boulder, CO.
Hulme, David and Edwards, Michael (1997) NGOs, States and Donors: Too close for Comfort?,
Macmillan in association with Save the Children, Basingstoke.
Jordan, Lisa and Tujil, Peter van (2000) ‘Political responsibility in transnational NGO advocacy’,
World Development, 28 (12), pp. 2051–2065.
Kaldor, Mary (Ed.) (1991) Europe From Below, Verso, London.
Keck, Margaret, E. and Sikkink, Kathryn (1998) Activists beyond Borders, Cornell University
Press, Cornell, NY.
Konrad, George (1984) Anti-Politics, Quartet Books, London.
Koonings, Kees and Kruijt, Dirk (Eds) (1999) Societies of Fear: The Legacy of Civil War,
Violence and Terror in Latin America, Zed Books, London and New York.
Kothari, Rajni (1989) Politics and the People: In Search of a Humane India, Vol. II, Ajonta
Publications, Delhi.
Lewis, David (2001) The Management of Non-Governmental Development Organisations:
An Introduction, Routledge, London and New York.
Mamdani, Mahood (1996) Citizen and Subject: Contemporary Africa and the Legacy of late
Colonialism, Princeton University Press, Princeton, NJ.
Melucci, Alberto (1988) Nomads of the Present: Social Movements and Individual Needs in
Contemporary Society, Hutchinson, London.
Melucci, Alberto (1996) Challenging Codes: Collective Action in the Information Age,
Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.
Michnik, Adam (1985) ‘The new evolutionism’, Letters from Prison and Other Essays,
California University Press, CA.
Putzel, James (1997) ‘Accounting for the ‘‘dark side’’ of social capital: reading Robert Putnam
on democracy’, Journal of International Development, 9 (7), pp. 939–949.
Salamon, L. and Anheier, H. (1996) The Emerging Non-Profit Sector, Manchester University
Press, Manchester.
Tarrow, Sydney (1998) Power in Movements: Social Movements and Contentious Politics,
2nd edition, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.
Touraine, Alain (1981) The Voice and the Eye: An Analysis of Social Movements, Cambridge
University Press, Cambridge.
Wood, G.D. (1997) ‘States without citizens: the problem of the franchise state’, in David
Hulme and Michael Edwards (Eds), NGOs, States and Donors: Too close for Comfort?,
Macmillan in association with Save the Children, Basingstoke.
Zadek, S. and Evans, R. (1993) Auditing the Market: A Practical Approach to Social Auditing,
New Economics Foundation/Tradecraft, London and Gateshead.
Zubaida, Sami (2001) ‘Civil society, community and democracy in the Middle East’, in Sudipta
Kaviraj and Sunil Khilnani (Eds), Civil Society: History and Possibilities, Cambridge
University Press, Cambridge.

27