Believe it or not, the term 'glocalization' has entered the vocabulary enough to appear in a slew of places, even in book titles. However clumsy the term, it refers to an important and complex challenge. Globalization is upon us, changing lives in countless ways but it's local events, those close to home, that we feel most directly. And it is where most people can truly make a difference. "Think global, act local" is a watchword in fields as diverse as community activism, business strategy, church outreach, and policies to address climate change.
The World Bank, a quintessentially global institution, has for years grappled with a way to address its local roots and connections. With headquarters in the heart of Washington, D.C., it is one of the District of Columbia's largest employers. It benefits from tax exemption and from city services. Yet for years its connections to the community were hard to trace. The Bank's efforts to change that situation offer an interesting story and some useful morals.
The story combines changing institutional culture and personal commitments. The World Bank I joined in the early 1970s held proudly to a low profile and confident confidentiality. Documents were secret, leaks an outrage. The gray covers of official documents were an apt metaphor for the institution's public face. Extraordinary characters hid behind the facade, peeking out only occasionally. The Bank's work was truly fascinating, its mission -- to fight global misery -- inspiring, but its staid and controlled public face admitted none of the dramas played out there each day.
Nowhere was the disconnect more ironic than in relations to the local community. An institution that debated the meaning of poverty round the clock saw little of the realities of what poverty meant a few blocks away. The Bank saw itself as global; the local had little bearing on its daily life.
Glocalization jarred the Bank from its aloofness. Protests became a daily reality, in Copenhagen, Delhi, La Paz, Jakarta, but also in Washington. Those on the streets protested so many things that officials inside the Bank at first retreated in bemusement. But with changing global politics and the mounting visibility of civil society, demonstrations took on a more urgent tone. Occasional violent clashes altered the picture. Tall fences were erected before major meetings, and at times dignified delegates were bused hurriedly into meeting rooms in pre-dawn hours to avoid the protesters.
The protests focused on global issues but they also woke consciences on local matters. Local police forces cooperated to assure security while homeless people camped right outside the door. Arguments in the District of Columbia about the rights of gay couples found an echo inside the Bank decades ago. Education policies in Mali and Afghanistan echoed debates about schools nearby. And the strengths of the Washington community, its diversity and its awakening cultural life, also came into focus.
But it took people to translate the meaning of "think global, act local" into action. Yossi Hadar, an Israeli photographer (he died earlier this month) took pictures of the Bank's global meetings and social events, but he was one of those who made it his mission to build bridges to Washington communities. As the Bank's first community relations director, he focused on the power of cultural links, bringing people from the community into the staid Bank and promoting exchange. The Community Connections program was born, supported by then presidents Barber Conable and James D. Wolfensohn and their successors. It has continued and grown over a period of two decades.
As the light shone on the importance of connections with the local community, stories and possibilities emerged. Countless Bank staff members for years had volunteered in community organizations, and had benefited from them. They were members of every imaginable faith community, often quietly exercising leadership. And at a more official level, possibilities to help and to learn emerged. The Bank began to engage with the District, supporting , among other things, good financial management and school reforms.
Mixing global and local is not simple. The World Bank works in over a hundred countries, with offices all over the world. The local is not just Washington, D.C., or Hyattsville, Md. It is Kabul and Niamey, Tegucigalpa and Phnom Penh. The poverty of Washington, horrible as it is, does not compare with the misery of places where there is no food and no safety net at all. When disasters happen, no matter where in the world, they tug hard at the heartstrings of people who have family and friends in the earthquake, war, or hurricane zone. The question is always: where to start?
But the basic lesson that has emerged is that an institution that is divorced from the local, no matter how bold and global its scope, can find it hard to discover its soul and to show its true colors. The World Bank that engages with the community, that reaches out to give and to learn, is a stronger and more grounded neighbor. It is also better placed to link its global advice to the realities of local communities, no matter where they are.
