Professionalise or Explode? The Makassar Neighbourhood Community in Amsterdam

Professionalise or Explode?

The Makassar Neighbourhood Community in Amsterdam -

Cristien Temmink1

Introduction The following case is part of ‘Civil Society at Crossroads’, a global initiative between CDRA (South Africa), EASUN (Tanzania), ICD (Uruguay), PRIA (India), INTRAC (UK) and PSO (Netherlands). The organisations collaborated on exploring the shifting roles, capacities, contributions, limitations and challenges facing different segments of civil society in changing local and global contexts. The basis of this initiative is a strong belief in civil society, its importance and its role in promoting inclusion, equity and justice in the future. The initiative generated stories of civil society crossroads in fifteen countries---Uruguay, Chile, Argentina, Malawi, Zimbabwe, South Africa, Uganda, India, Cambodia, Indonesia, United Kingdom, Netherlands, Greece, Russia and Ireland, as well as a number of citizens’ movements in the North and South.

This case presents the Makassar neighbourhood community, a recently established initiative in the Indian neighbourhood of Amsterdam.2 This neighbourhood is located in the eastern part of the city and has been known to be one of the most deprived areas in the Netherlands. Therefore, in 2009, it was declared a ‘priority area’ for city development. Around 23,000 inhabitants live here with over 120 different nationalities; 65 per cent of the majority of comes from a non-western background and about hundred different languages are being spoken; and 40 per cent of young people under the age of twenty-three are living under the poverty line – a rate that is almost twice as high as in other boroughs of the city. In order to do something about this situation, civil servants and residents joined hands. Since then the Makassar neighbourhood community has grown and evolved into a vibrant and diverse group of residents, citizens and professionals loosely organized around the shared purpose of improving living conditions and strengthening social cohesion and well-being in the Indian neighbourhood.

Till now the community has been successful. To a great extent, this was possible due to an enabling environment in which (local) government facilitated and supported citizen initiatives that aligned well with policies for neighbourhood improvement. Moreover, changing discourses regarding civil society, which highlight the need to ‘create’ a civil society in which citizens take responsibility for societal issues, contributed as well. While the city district is assuming a facilitating and supportive role, the Makassar community has taken up a bridging position between the policy interests of the city district on the one hand, and the wishes, motivations and needs of the residents on the other.

To fulfil this function and be a serious interlocutor for the city district, the community saw the need to formalise. They created the ‘Makassar Square Community Foundation’, which has been kept small with three voluntary positions of chairman, vice chairman and treasurer/secretary. The community itself is not a foundation; it operates through a core group of around eighteen volunteering residents who organise and coordinate activities in which the wider community of residents, professionals and the city district participate.

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Cristien Temmink, PSO, The Netherlands This case was produced with the input of members of the Makassar community, in particular MelloukiCadat, ShaziaIshaq, some members of the core group and Rob van Veelen (participation mediator of the city district). The part on the five phases of Dutch civil society development has been taken from publications of Lucas Meijs (see references), expert on Dutch civil society, who also supported various reflections. AnnetScheringa of The Story Connection helped with collecting and organising the stories.

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Recently, the community was presented the opportunity to apply for government funding. After intense internal discussions the core group decided to opt for subsidy, as they considered that subsidy could help them professionalise and deal with tensions caused by the rapid growth and diversity in the community. The question whether to enter the public funding system or not, is the crossroad presented in this case. It reflects one of the principal issues currently facing civil society in the Netherlands: dependency and intertwined relations with the state as a consequence of the funding system. Entering the system may lead to growth, professionalisation and -for the time beingsustainability. However, the Dutch experience also demonstrates that subsidies come with frameworks and conditions that carry with them risks of goal displacement, loss of identity and, as a consequence, weakening ties with constituent groups from which legitimacy stems. Not accepting or restricting government funding, however, is likely to limit growth and result in being taken less serious by (local) government and other societal actors.

In order to understand this crossroad in its context, first the story of the Makassar community is narrated. Then the development of Dutch civil society is presented to illustrate how in the Netherlands civil society traditionally has been shaped and controlled through a system of state funding. This system was introduced in the nineteenth century to pacify societal tensions between different ideological groups and, at later stages, to favour integration and cohesion. The case shows how relationships with the state have been central to civil society development in the Netherlands.

Moreover, the case may help to understand why in the Netherlands there are hardly any authentic and independent citizen energised movements.

The Neighbourhood Through MOVISIE, a Dutch non-profit organisation dedicated to social development and participation, I came into contact with MelloukiCadat. He is a senior advisor at MOVISIE and also, since 1995, an active resident of the Indian neighbourhood and one of the driving forces behind the Makassar community.

Mellouki describes himself: ‘My background is multifarious: I am black, a Berber from an Algerian family who were originally oasis inhabitants from El-Goléa in the Sahara. My mother is white, from Brittany in France. She also has a double cultural background. My grandfather was a Muslim who converted to Catholicism in 1910. In 1923, they became French. I am part of the Catholic side of my family, the others are Muslims. My mother was a nationalist and in favour of the Algerian revolution.

She went to Algeria to learn from the anti-colonialists. There she met my father who was an active Christian in the Red Cross, supporting the rebels for independence. I was born in 1958, I always say, out of an anti-colonialist orgasm. After independence, my side of the family had to leave Algeria. They then moved to southern France.

From then on, we were not only Catholic, but also French. I am marked by my double heritage. I studied political science and law in France and was active in the social movement for solidarity, human rights and emancipation; I was a bit of a lefty in other words. In 1986, I came here [Amsterdam, the Netherlands], graduated in political sciences and conducted research on migrant politicians. I ended up working in the social sector. I currently work for MOVISIE (a Mellouki Cadat knowledge and advisory institute for tackling social problems in the fields of welfare, social care and social security), where I work on citizens’ participation, multiculturalism and diversity. I have always been involved in neighbourhood initiatives in the area I live in.’

On my question what the Makassar community exactly is, Mellouki explains: ‘A community entails people meeting each other in the neighbourhood. We share the joys, but also the sorrows. We are a 2

cooperation of active citizens, of professionals, civil servants and housing corporation staff. Together we have a huge amount of knowledge about the square, about the city district, about the culture in the neighbourhood. This means we have a better idea of how to achieve things and how to sustainably solve problems than others do.’

Solving problems adequately seems highly relevant in the Indian neighbourhood where the community operates. Originally built in the early 1920s for housing harbour labourers, the area is divided into four quadrants: Ambon square, Timor square, Sumatra Park and Makassar square. From the 1960s onwards, with the decline and finally disappearance of port functions, the neighbourhood remained isolated and decayed.

Map: Makassar area, City of Amsterdam, District East.

The high numbers of rental and subsidised housing for low-income families, as well the many migrant workers that were allocated there from the 1970s onwards increasingly defined the composition of the population. Currently, the Indian neighbourhood has over 23,000 inhabitants with a relatively large group of young people from diverse ethnic backgrounds. Dutch natives are in a minority; 65 per cent of the population consists of immigrants with a predominance of groups of Moroccans, Surinamese, Turkish and Antilleans. An estimated hundred different languages are being spoken (Sterk 2011). Social-economic issues at play are high unemployment, low incomes (with 25 per cent of households below the poverty line), insufficient accommodation, high school dropout, social isolation (in particular of women and elderly people), criminal activities and insecurity, unemployed youths loitering about, decay and pollution on the streets.

Originally, this disadvantaged area had a broad social infrastructure of local, city district and national welfare organisations in housing, health, education and employment. But at the start of the century many of these formal, traditional support structures ceased to function. ‘In 2000, we celebrated the thirtieth anniversary of community building in the Indian neighbourhood, but that same year also marked the end of the community building that originated in the 1970s,’ Mellouki says. He continues: ‘At the start of this century, there was no more community building in this neighbourhood. No community centre, no community building staff who stood up for vulnerable groups, who acted as spokespeople for the area, who forged links between the government and citizens – it was all gone. There was a vacuum in which the communities we see today developed.’

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Another factor that facilitated the formation of neighbourhood communities was the fact that national government declared the Indian neighbourhood officially a priority area in the policy framework of the so-called ‘neighbourhood approach’. As a consequence, the municipality of Amsterdam started taking measures to develop the area and tackle poverty, promote social cohesion and citizen participation and increase employment and education rates. A particular measure to uplift the neighbourhood was to convert 25 per cent of rented subsidised housing into owned property. This was meant to attract other population groups to settle in the neighbourhood, and in particular young middle class families and creative people (artists). Also, from 2010 onwards, policies for stimulating the neighbourhood actively promoted increased cooperation between the national government, city district, welfare organisations and citizens, ‘based on the possibilities, strengths and responsibilities of each’. In other words, from 2010 onwards, it became explicit policy to make use of the strength of residents and build civil society in the neighbourhood (Sterk 2011).

The Indian neighbourhood

Created Communities Increased cooperation between the city district, professional welfare providers, housing corporations and residents led to multiple activities, initiatives and projects in the neighbourhood.

One initiative from central city civil servants was to form a ‘social cohesion think-tank’. Herein, a group of active and successful residents mobilised and committed themselves to improve their neighbourhood. According to some, this citizen think-tank is an example of breaking up of traditional division of roles between government, welfare organisations and citizens in policy making and implementation; through active policies citizens were stimulated to contribute to both policy making and implementation and local government assumed a supporting role (Sterk 2011). Boluijt (2011:1) notes that ‘this ambition [for cooperation] is not new ... but the manner in which different organisations cooperate with residents and the city district is.’

The neighbourhood community was one of the ‘thought up’ ideas of the social cohesion think-tank.

The first community to develop in the area was the Timor square community in 2006. Its angle of work was to involve entrepreneurs in working for the benefit of the neighbourhood. For example, housing corporations were stimulated to work on social return, to engage with residents and to actively support the community. The city district made funds available and residents assumed roles in a residents’ panel to oversee the spending of those funds. Residents that were already involved in activities and networks in the neighbourhood were brought together and the first community started to shape itself. The second community, Karrewiel, was formed in 2008 and the Makassar community developed in 2010 as the third community in the area.

As an active resident with professional knowledge Mellouki became involved in the development of all three communities. ‘I was already active within the formal networks in the neighbourhood; I was the secretary of this… and the treasurer of that…’ he states. ‘Then I was asked to join the think-tank on social cohesion; an initiative of civil servants from the central city council. We came together to think things up for the neighbourhood. One of the ideas mentioned originated from Sweden and was called ‘communities’. We didn’t want to have statutes, to hold meetings and all that; we just wanted 4

to start doing things together; to recognise one another and to then see if you might want to do things together intrinsically, at your own volition.’

‘The city district strives for a new civil society: a model in which people themselves take the initiative and the government has a facilitating role’, stated Rob van Veelen, a civil servant with the role of “participation mediator”, at the time.3 Participation mediator is a position specifically created in the policy framework of the city district’s neighbourhood approach. Rob considers himself a mediator between the city district and the people in the neighbourhood. ‘This is important, because to many people, the city Residents district is a black box that does not conform to their logic. It means that even if they have just one single question, they often have to visit three different departments. For these people I am the city district’s ‘face’ in the neighbourhood. They can turn to me so they don’t have to work out how we have organised things internally.’

As Mellouki, Rob van Veelen played a key role in the development of all communities. ‘Participation mediator is a frontline position’ he explains. ‘I am part of the daily lives of the people in the neighbourhood and I am also part of the city district’s system. It is my role to promote participation and active citizenship. I look people up. People who want to change something in the neighbourhood and for its inhabitants. One such amazing person is Shazia for example, a lady with an enormous drive. She reaches people who are not reached by the regular welfare organisations. These people benefit so much from someone like Shazia. In turn, I can do things for her: I can put her in touch with the city district and the housing corporation. And through our organisation we can give her attention, coconceptualise, empathise and make our knowledge and networks available. That is my principal capital, because I don’t have much of a budget. In fact, budget is perhaps the last thing that I can provide. But I can point her towards funding for the slightly longer term.’

Rob van Veelen The neighbourhood communities in Amsterdam can thus be considered ‘created communities’ in the sense that they were purposefully initiated through combined efforts of policy makers, social organisations and active residents in order to improve situations in the neighbourhood. The communities operate as networks of different players and various neighbourhood initiatives through which local government, formal non-profit welfare organisations, civil society organisations, housing corporations, entrepreneurs and citizens join forces in favour of social wellbeing. Ways of operating and organising the communities are informal and with high levels of flexibility and volatility in participation, making it difficult to pin down the exact structures. People I spoke with referred to the community as a ‘platform’, a ‘meeting space’ (both physical and virtual) with an important role in linking people and ideas, an ‘interesting bunch of people committed to the neighbourhood’, and a ‘societal connection of citizens’.

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Factsheet Karrewiel community, Programmabureau Amsterdamse wijkaanpak, Gemeente: Amsterdam. www.amsterdam.nl/wijkaanpak.

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Sustainable Solutions and Circle of Support Shazia Ishaq, a young women of twenty-four years, was already referred to in various conversations I had and I visited her at her ‘Foundation MOI’ [MaatschappelijkeOndersteuning en Integratie] [Social Support and integration]. Shazia is another committed resident and a key person in the Makassar community. She grew up in a multicultural family with a Surinamese mother and a Pakistani father who met each other in the Netherlands. At the age of seventeen, together with her brother, she opened a Bollywood video shop in the neighbourhood. ‘We wanted to ensure that Bollywood films wouldn’t disappear, but it was a bad time to start a shop because the shop’s rent was astronomical and a lot of people were downloading films for free. Nevertheless we wanted to have a go at it’, she explains. In the video shop she came across many immigrant women from the neighbourhood who were isolated as they did not speak Dutch. For one reason or the other, they had not found their way to designated language providers that were appointed within the Dutch policy for supporting migrants’ integration in Dutch society. Overall, Shazia was struck by the many unmet social needs in the neighbourhood, despite all the social support organisations active in the area.

She decided to do something herself. ‘I started to study about compulsory integration [Dutch policy for integration of migrants], debtor assistance and I took a course on each of these topics. Then I started providing compulsory integration courses in the Bollywood video shop for a small group of women. But this rapidly expanded until I had 240 women! Someone then contacted the authorities with a complaint: ‘Is this a video shop or what is going on there?’ All those women in burqas and with headscarves on… This is also roughly how my brother found out that the shop wasn’t really a video shop Shazia (left) with community members anymore---I was doing it a bit on the sly. At first he was furious: it was supposed to be a video shop and I had turned it into an integration school! He suddenly realised why he never made a profit and kept on having to pay the rent himself.

But when he’d calmed down he had an idea and he got in touch with the city district. This is how we came into contact with the participation mediator Rob van Veelen. That’s how it all started …’

Shazia initiated Foundation MOI [MaatschappelijkeOndersteuning en Integratie] [Social Support and integration] for social Support, integration courses and debt assistance. She now receives support from the city district and the Oranjefonds [Social Welfare Endowment Fund]. She continues her story: ‘Now I am based in the neighbourhood and I have a huge group of clients who I help with many different kinds of problems. Basically, I’ve created my own welfare organisation. Whereby, I suppose, I should add that we don’t always adhere to the rules and regulations. We provide solutions to vulnerable groups who do not want, or cannot, turn to ordinary social work or if the government does not provide solutions. This might not be the way we’re supposed to do things, but we do solve problems.’

Through the work of her Foundation MOI, Shazia came into contact with the Makassar community.

‘At first, I didn’t even know what a community was. Then I met Mellouki. I had already heard a lot about him. He explained that in a community people take on problems in the neighbourhood and solve them together, sustainably. So that more than just one specific problem is solved. I think that’s 6

great. To my foundation this also means that there is circle of support around us. For example, Foundation MOI puts a lot of energy into our funding and we have a large number of volunteers.

Now we have a community around us that motivates and supports us even more. Sometimes its members know there is a subsidy available somewhere so we don’t have to dip into our own funds.

Without a community you are on your own, fighting a lonely battle. Of course there is the city district, but they are civil servants and have to abide by the rules. A community changes the rules if need be…’

Community in Action In over two years that the Makassar community has been active, many initiatives and ideas have been carried out and many more are being developed. Some are in cooperation with external parties such as the E-motive programme of Oxfam Novib. Herein, knowledge and experiences from the South are linked to Northern organisations and communities. The idea behind this approach is that experiences and knowledge regarding community building and participation in the South is useful for solving societal issues in the North. This is how methods such as the OASIS game and budget monitoring were brought from Brazil to the Indian neighbourhood. The OASIS game, developed by the Brazilian organization Elos4, is an interactive and playful method to empower residents of deprived neighbourhoods through supporting them to collectively realise a common dream in the neighbourhood (an oasis). The games have been played a few times in the Indian neighbourhood now, thereby engaging residents in creating solutions for problems and ideas for neighbourhood improvement and carrying these out.

From 2012 onwards, also in the context of the Emotive programme, the Makassar square community started a pilot with budget monitoring. Here, residents govern their own community centre and get access to and participate in decision making regarding the spending of the budget designated by local authorities to this community centre. Apparently, the Makassar community has taken up the idea to increase the involvement of residents in controlling and influencing the spending of public budgets.

Another innovative initiative has been the introduction of an alternative money ‘The day, 20 January 2012, was a great moment for me. system, where people can earn Makkies We organised an event at Rumah Kami, the community *loosely translated: ‘Fixes’+ by dedicating centre here on the square. We met to discuss safety in “passion-time” to neighbourhood causes or the neighbourhood. We talked to each other, ate helping others. The housing corporations, delicious food and celebrated being together. Everyone city district and community came up with came, from old aunty Bep to young Mohammed. this idea of using fake or reward money and Around 150 people showed up and it was really lively! It it is a big thing in the neighbourhood. Local provided an enormous boost and a great starting point, welfare organisations, for example, reward because we are now going to try and tackle safety in their volunteers with one Makkie per hour. the area by developing workshops to that end. We did Makkies can be exchanged in cinemas, in all this ourselves without a cent of subsidy money! the local bookstore and currently the (Mellouki) community is trying to engage more shopkeepers to accept them, including supermarkets and grocery stores. A few other examples of creative initiatives in the neighbourhood are the foundation ‘postage stamp parks’, which promotes and supports the creation of attractive, small pieces of public space in the neighbourhood, especially in places that are unused, neglected or decayed and StreetsmArt that promotes community art.

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See also: http://warriorswithoutweapons.wordpress.com/sobre-o-elos-brasil-2/

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According to Rob van Veelen, all these activities and opportunities have created new leaders; he estimates that currently the neighbourhood is home to some forty ‘change agents’ or community leaders. They arose from the exceptional mix of cultures and social strata in the area; some 75 per cent of the residents are socially deprived and live close to the poverty line. They have often an immigrant background. The other 25 per cent are so-called ‘creatives’ mainly from the middle class.

‘These are people who choose to live in the neighbourhood because there is still something for them to develop here’, says Rob. ‘One lady, for example, is an artist who wanted to open a gallery here.

Not in De Pijp [another, more affluent neighbourhood] as there, a gallery would be nothing new.

Here she came into contact with Moroccan women who introduced her to new colours, new materials and new fabrics. Creatives therefore truly opt to live here. And the change agents develop from this exceptional mix, generating community leaders. They stimulate each other, know how to get in touch with one another and connect. And this again creates new initiatives.’ Rob sounds enthused when he states: ‘There is a silent emancipatory movement here that only a few people know about; one that is primarily driven by women.’

Impact When meeting some residents they tell me how the community has impact. People connect to each other, they provide mutual support, show some solidarity, squares are improving into more lively and pleasant places to meet, others have found the support they needed and children and youngsters growing up in poverty are encouraged and supported to finish school.

Rob explains: ‘Too many children in this area drop out and that provides a very poor start in the Netherlands. Often, there is little support at home. The community then decides: “we’re not going to moan about having more school attendance officers, we are going to take responsibility”. So students volunteer to be coaches; new after-school activities enable children to develop their talents and people help kids find traineeships. It is becoming a caring community.’

‘My role is to serve’, he continues. ‘But I also appeal to people in their role as active citizens: ‘What do you think of your value to your neighbourhood?’ And I also ask them: ‘what can you yourself do to improve the situation?’ By far, most people think that is a nice question because I appeal to their quality as a citizen. Sometimes people say: ‘Am I capable of that?’ I can then arrange support. Or people say: ‘I don’t have the time’. But, of course, they don’t have to invest thirty hours a week.

Shazia comments how the community has changed the viewpoints of the city district and civil servants. ‘Without the community, the city district would focus on entirely different problems. We show them where the real problems are.’ She explains how in the past, the city district completed its plans for neighbourhood development and presented these to the community. But there was no real participation. Now the plans are examined much more critically on the basis of their feedback. ‘Plans have actually been re-written!’ says an excited Shazia. ‘When I noticed that, I thought to myself: it’s about time! This is because we know the stories, the facts and the figures. We are active in the neighbourhood; we live here and see things. This also makes us the connecting link between the city district and the people.’

‘Mustafa from the chess club is a change agent.

Mustafa started a chess club for children from the neighbourhood. That’s exceptional. It’s an afterschool activity, which allows him to reach children who seldom participate in after-school activities.

And what makes it even more exceptional is that he is reaching both boys and girls. For the boys it is important that there is something to do that isn’t a martial art. As far as the girls are concerned, it is exceptional for them to take part in an after-school activity. That definitely isn’t the norm here.’

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Professionalise or Explode?

The Makassar community is still undergoing full development, with a core group of around eighteen volunteering residents (including Mellouki and Shazia) coordinating the activities in the neighbourhood, as well as external relationships with the city district, housing corporations and the central city council, among others. The need for a core group arose because of the quick growth of the community, both in terms of participating residents and number of initiatives connected. The core group acts as a bridge between the formal organisations that operate in the neighbourhood with their policies and regulations on the one hand, and the needs and aspirations of residents on the other. Its creative and informal leadership seems to have contributed to the success of the community. Other factors that have stimulated the Makassar community are its rootedness in, and openness to, the broader community of residents, as well as its close contact with civil servants from the city district, the housing corporations, welfare organisations and entrepreneurs.

In order to be a serious interlocutor and partner of the city district, the community saw the need to create a legal foundation. This process led to heated internal discussions in the core group about the legal form and issues as representation, independence, transparency and legitimacy. Discussions lasted for weeks and gave rise to major tensions. Shazia explains that people were afraid that they would have to give up their own ways of working or that measures would be imposed on them.

When finally the community created the ‘Makassar Square Community Foundation’, Mellouki became the secretary/treasurer. ‘The community itself is not a foundation’, he clarifies. ‘That would be a contradiction in terms. But if we want to be the city district’s discussion partner, we have to be a legal entity that can enter into talks of behalf of the community.’

Increasingly, there is a felt need to formalise and professionalise further in order to deal with growth, diversity and inherent tensions. Mellouki explains how these tensions have been caused by the great diversity among residents and the absence of community building activities in the neighbourhood in past years. ‘In this neighbourhood, people don’t naturally interact. There are lots of negative impressions, words, but also deeds; for example, when a Moroccan kid beats up a gay Brazilian artist. These tensions are reflected in our community. This makes it our assignment to weigh the various interests. People have to get over cultural, social and ethnic barriers and that isn’t easy. You mainly have to name things: young vs old, immigrant vs Dutch person, one organisation vs the other, economic motives… we just keep seeking out the golden triangle of interests.’

This challenging task has increased pressure on the core group that, at the same time, also struggles with internal tensions caused by diversity between its own members. This is another reason why the core group feels the need to professionalise: to have a core group where people interact professionally. ‘We have to conduct our meetings in such a way that we can ignore economic, ethnic and an age boundaries, among other things’, says Mellouki. Until recently, the core group organised itself informally and participation was flexible. This led to friction as some core group members expressed that they did not even know exactly who belonged to the core group and who didn’t. The meetings were often held with the people that showed up, thereby having often different people sitting around the table. This informality and flexibility was considered problematic as it led to problems with decision-making, transparency, legitimacy and leadership.

Shazia gives an example. ‘Transparency is so important in order to avoid misunderstandings. For example, someone [from the core group] could be organising something for the neighbourhood and if they head over to visit the city district to see if there is any funding available, someone else [from 9

the core group] might hear about this and think to themselves: ‘oh, so you’re going to do it yourself, are you?’ But this isn’t even the case as the person in question might just be doing some preliminary research. So every now and then someone has to say: ‘No, there’s nothing fishy going on, someone is just doing some preliminary research’. We need to make sure all information in put on the table.’

The core group expects that professionalising will help them deal with these issues. However, they also realise that it is going to be a challenge to professionalise without losing the informality and flexibility that has made the community accessible. ‘It is tricky to become more professional and still stay a community at heart’, admits Mellouki. ‘Retaining the informal, which is the community’s strength and conducting ourselves professionally at the same time, is going to be difficult.’ He expects that this will also cause tensions. ‘Are we [going to be] the new local policeman? Do we, in the future, also wish to bid for the city district’s subsidy? Are we going to be social work’s ally or its competitor?

Whatever the case may be, we will have to professionalise if we wish to retain the community’s strength. We are stuck in the middle and aren’t quite sure how to solve this yet. We have to see which methods and mentors we are going to bring on board. Are we going to succeed? That is the question. But we will definitely fail if we don’t tackle things professionally. The tensions in the neighbourhood are just too high for that. You can’t leave things to laissez-faire here. The community will explode.’

Funding and Future Concerns about growth and professionalization have instigated questions regarding identity, (future) roles, and relations and funding. So far, the community has built on volunteers, local entrepreneurs and housing corporations. And more recently the community started exploring relations with the corporate sector such as Triodos Bank [a social bank], Rabobank and national supermarket chains.

According to Rob van Veelen, the community is developing a healthy infrastructure of support, which makes it less dependent on the city district. ‘That has a purifying effect in my opinion’, he declares. ‘The community depends perhaps for 25 per cent of their income on the government and arranges the remaining 75 per cent themselves in conjunction with other parties.’ He observes that these other relations are very important for the community. ‘These parties have much faster decision making systems. The government always has to justify itself. That is why there are rules and forms to be filled in. Other parties are less encumbered by this and can act more rapidly.’

Increasingly, the Makassar community is developing its own plans and also discussing their relationship with government. So far, the Makassar community has suited government priorities and funding was provided within the framework of the neighbourhood approach. However, it is unclear whether the government will continue to give support over the coming years. It seems even uncertain if after elections the neighbourhood approach will continue to exist. According to Rob van Veelen, the government intends to abolish the city districts. These may be re-incorporated into Amsterdam’s central city council. And the question is whether the city council will have the same priorities as the district and how much room they will provide for the neighbourhood approach and the communities.

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Nevertheless, Rob van Veelen thinks that the neighbourhood communities do have a future. ‘Strong, creative and informal leadership are the main preconditions for a community. Furthermore, it is important for the community to remain anchored in the neighbourhood as a whole; it should not become a small group focused inwardly, entrenched and stuck. I am not worried about the coming fifteen years. At the moment there are enough strong leaders. They provide their strengths to the neighbourhood, because it suits their phase of life. And they are an example to others. This means that things will be fine for roughly a decade and a half.’

Shazia realises that ambitions to grow, professionalise and define an own future pathway, require resources. ‘You don’t get far without funding, as I have noticed in my own foundation *MOI+ in recent years’, she concludes. She also observes that formal welfare organisations operating in the neighbourhood manage a lot of resources, but are often not capable of delivering adequate services to the people that need it most. This is because they have to stick to formal rules and bureaucratic processes that often make them cumbersome and less accessible. But these large welfare organisations also have their interests. ‘They can see a power shift taking place from them to citizens who will, in the near future, also be able to apply for funding’, notices Rob. ‘Policy makers’ influence is decreasing as people determine what they need themselves’ he adds. ‘Of course (and very understandably) these [formal welfare] organisations are focusing on retaining the jobs they provide. But the good thing is that the neighbourhood’s happiness and welfare are no longer entirely dependent on the city district.’

Shazia, on the other hand, thinks that the city districts should invest more in the communities over the coming years, instead of in welfare organisations. ‘Of course the welfare organisations should also be funded. Otherwise the communities will get overburdened. But some of the available funding should be allocated to the communities. This would enable the city district to further the development of social work, because communities tackle problems in the neighbourhood personally, face-to-face. We find real solutions to the problems in the area. It is the results that matter: we should be judged on the basis of the results. If no results are achieved, then you shouldn’t get any funding. We work driven by the neighbourhood’s pain and on the basis of what we feel. That’s the main difference. That’s why it’s very important for the communities to continue to exist.’

Mellouki concludes: ‘The city district has decided that after 2013, the formal institutions will no longer automatically receive assignments. Anyone, including civilians, can submit a request to do social work. We have entered a period of change. How things are going to develop, we don’t know. I myself am in favour of alliances of people, or communities. Or a community and a community centre. If there’s a ‘click’ you can make agreements. If there isn’t, you can go your own way…

The Context: Five Phases of Civil Society Development The Makassar community has arrived at a crossroad where it will have to decide about its future course and ways of funding (e.g., entering the subsidy system or not). This juncture can be placed in a broader context in which an important current question for civil society development in the Netherlands is the search to ‘reconnect’ to civil society. So, while at the national level there is this felt need to reconnect and to ‘create’ civil society, at the local level civil society seems increasingly hesitant to connect to government. To understand the historical root of this relationship between the state and civil society, some insight in the development of Dutch civil society, as described by Lucas Meijs (2007, 2012), is helpful.

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Hupe & Meijs (2000) outline four phases in the development of civil society in the Netherlands: (i) pre-pillarisation: an emancipation process; (ii) pillarisation: serving the public by serving your own group; (iii) de-pillarisation: going public; and (iv) going private: introducing the market. Since then, a fifth phase has been distinguished called ‘going for ownership: reintroducing civil society’ (Meijs 2004).

Phase 1. Pre-pillarisation: An emancipation process This phase was characterised by great tensions in society between religious and class-based groups.

There were different interests and expectations regarding the role of the state in the provision of services, particularly in education. Religious groups and especially Roman Catholics wanted the government to support religious-based education. The working class, however, struggled in favour of social issues and social recognition. This struggle for emancipation, of which the so-called schoolstrijd (education battle) was an important part, ended around 1917 when the socialist party and liberals traded their goal of general voting rights in exchange for the objective of Roman Catholics and Protestants for financial support from the government for religious schools. This event can be considered the starting point for the development of the considerable non-profit sector in the Netherlands, with large scale financial state support for religious- and class-based organisations, not only in the educational sector, but also in many other non-profit fields. Through this, the tensions between different groups in society were pacified.

Phase 2. Pillarisation: Serving the public by serving your own group The process of government subsidising multiple religious and class-based organisations led to the phenomenon of ‘pillarisation’ (verzuiling), through which Dutch society was segregated purposefully to pacify societal tensions. Dutch society can thus be typified as a peculiar kind of plural society with discrete segments, the so-called ‘pillars’ (zuilen), where ‘pillars’ are ‘blocs of institutions and members, delimited from each other in different sectors of society along the same ideological demarcation lines’ (Pennings 1991:1). Unlike a society stratified horizontally by class, these segments have a vertical character. At the bottom of the pillar there is diversification and at the top the elites of diverse ideological segments of society meet each other to build and maintain a basic consensus. It is therefore that in the Netherlands political majorities can only be formed through coalitions (Hupe 1993; Hupe&Meijs 2000).

The process of pillarisation in society led to a rigid policy framework through which voluntary nonprofit service delivery organisations, mutual support associations and campaigning organisations were founded and organised. This model remained dominant for non-profit sector organisation in the Netherlands throughout the twentieth century into the post World War II period. The concept of pacification led to an almost automatic system of treating and funding all pillars in the same way. As a consequence, each pillar had the same, but their own, organisations such as churches, schools, newspapers, political parties, trade unions, sport associations, etc.

Phase 3. De-pillarisation: Going public After World War II, as a result of post-war modernisation, pillarisation declined. With the rise of the welfare state the standard of living increased and individuals became less dependent on their own pillar. Moreover, increased mobility (both geographically and socially) and secularisation, resulted in a more unified set of norms and values in society (Hupe&Meijs 2000). Thus, individuals became less dependent on their pillars, but the pillars remained intact and dependent on the state. However, there was a process of regrouping where organisations from different ideological pillars were forced to merge into larger non-profit organisations that served larger geographical areas and/or 12

represented various religious groups. During this de-pillarisation phase, the development of both the state and the non-profit sector were strongly interconnected and ‘it is becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish the traditional private non-profit organisations from the many independent public bodies, PGOs (para-government organisations) and quangos (quasi-autonomous non-government organisations) that have been established by government in recent decades’(Dekker 1998:127).These changes led Hupe and Meijs (2000) to conclude that by the end of phase three, it was difficult to identify a distinctive impact of non-profit organisations when compared with their private or public service-delivering corollaries. At this time in the development of the Dutch nonprofit sector, the state and the non-profit sector were very much intertwined.

Phase 4.Going private: Introducing the market In this phase, two forces that would impact on the structural configuration of organisations in the non-profit sector coincided. As described by Hupe&Meijs (2000), the bureaucratic control of the non-profit sector was becoming a burden to the constituent organisations and government bodies providing subsidies. At the same time, privatisation and liberalisation---just as in the United Kingdom, United States and elsewhere---were becoming buzzwords in public policy. Through new policies large service delivering non-profit organisations were forced to work under conditions of market powers. The existing (geographical) monopolies held by specific organisations were brought to an end. Perhaps the most significant change was the government policy of giving clients a budget that they could spend on activities of certified service-delivering organisations, instead of financing the organisations. Clients could then choose which organisation they would contract for the services they required. The non-profit sector moved inexorably towards the market sector, with constituent non-profit organisations increasingly played by market rules. They encountered competition, professionalised, and responded to pressures to work more efficiently and effectively and to meet quality standards. Without making these changes, they could neither qualify for state subsidies nor compete with other service providers---non-profit or for profit.

Phase 5. Going for ‘ownership’: Reinventing civil society?

The start of the new millennium has been turbulent for the Netherlands: an economic recession in 2001, a political assassination in 2002 and, for the first time in years, a budget deficit in 2003. The response of the state included a re-evaluation of its policy of subsidising the non-profit sector. This not only influenced the large all-paid staff service delivery organisations, but also the paid staff headquarters of larger nationwide volunteer organisations. The Ministry of Healthcare, Welfare and Sport subsidies to 254 non-profit volunteer organisations were proposed to be cut back or removed.

For 109 of them, the reduction was only 10 to 30 per cent of their former subsidy. For the remaining 139, the subsidies would be withdrawn entirely over a period of three years (Meijs 2004). Also in other fields the same can be witnessed. Organisations in development cooperation, for instance, saw a combination of stricter subsidy rules based on competition and a reduced budget (Schulpen 2006; Schulpen 2009). It is extremely likely that this combination of less (certain) government funding and strict rules for who will get funding, and how the money should be spend, will be even further strengthened in coming years.

The response of affected organisations has been two-fold: to search for other sources of state support and to attempt to realign themselves as civil society organisations that can draw support-–financial and otherwise-–-from within civil society. While most did find some way of securing new forms of state funding, for the most part it has not proved to be as significant as before.

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‘Reinventing’ Civil Society Above phases of civil society development in the Netherlands reveal two overall distinctive features.

First, the process of pillarisation created a wide-ranging non-profit sector dominated by service delivery, professional organisations with activities in education, public broadcasting, public housing, welfare and healthcare, and smaller, local, more volunteer-oriented organisations with activities in informal and additional care, mutual support, youths, sports and recreation. In fact, the Netherlands is the highest scoring nation on the Civil Society Index (Salamon et al. 2004). Second, the relation with the state has been central to Dutch civil society development as this extensive and well established non-profit sector has been traditionally subsidized by, and interlinked with the state (Meijs 2011).

The Makassar community illustrates the fifth phase in the development of Dutch civil society. This phase started around 2003 and did not only bring about drastic changes in the government subsidy system, but also led to a revisiting and reshaping of the civil society discourse. Herein, emphasis increasingly focussed on the resourcefulness of citizens to solve their own issues and depend less on the state for services and subsidies. Civil society’s role is considered both in empowering citizens to take that responsibility, as well as in delivering services that the state cannot, or will no longer, provide. Hence, two functions of civil society are merely emphasised: service delivery and community building. Buzzwords that resonate are ‘social capital’, ‘social cohesion’ and ‘active citizenship’; central to this discourse is the idea of changing roles and responsibilities between government, civil society, and citizens. However, it is not clear yet where responsibilities and roles of each start and end. Therefore, some argue that government priorities have been ‘motivated by a strong desire to move traditional public responsibilities either to civil society or to citizens themselves’ (De NieuweDialoog 2006:41).

The story of the Makassar community shows clearly how this phase of ‘reinventing’ civil society provided an enabling environment in which the Makassar community could develop. First, the break-down of traditional welfare and community structures that had been build up from the third phase (1970s) onwards, generated both the space and need for the communities to emerge. Second, the new government priorities in the framework of the neighbourhood approach intermingled well with the new notions of civil society, favouring the promotion of active citizenship, self-reliance, participation and integration of migrants. Hence, there was some funding available for citizen initiatives and participation. The city district even created this special civil servant position of ‘participation mediator’ to stimulate and facilitate citizen participation. His role seems to have been crucial in the growth and success of the neighbourhood communities.

In various ways, the state was thus instrumental in setting up the Makassar community from the start; first through creating space and need (by discontinuing or diminishing subsidies to former welfare structures), and then through forming a social cohesion think-tank with citizens where the idea of ‘creating’ communities was born. Therefore, one can consider that also in this fifth and most recent phase of civil society development, the state is taking up a determinant role in defining civil society, its space, role and function.

When considering the ‘type’ of civil society that is being developed, the Makassar community seems to represent a civil society that fits well within the current discourses of active citizenship and less government. Other, more critical and confrontational civil society networks that are also active in the Indian neighbourhood are being less heard, supported and promoted by (local) government and the media. This raises questions as to how far the community can define its own course and what happens if they decide to become more political in their approach, proposals and demands.

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However, even when considering the Makassar community a convenient ‘thought-up’ idea incubated by state actors, it is thriving and growing as it has been taken up enthusiastically by residents and citizens. A variety of people (old and young, men and women, Dutch and migrants) are engaging and participating; the fact that the community is informal, accessible and diverse, with many spaces and opportunities for creativity and spontaneity, seems to contribute to this broad participation. Moreover, the bridging function of the community where they ‘translate’ between the formal system with its organisations, structures and procedures, and the messy, more complex dayto-day reality faced by citizens is strengthening their legitimacy where their capacity to ‘bend the rules’ appeared to be crucial.

At the crossroad, where the Makassar community is increasingly recognised by (local) government as being successful in facilitating active citizenship and participation, they also face some choices.

How are they going to relate to government and deal with subsidies? Subsidies may increase the need to professionalise further, not only to deal with internal dynamics, but in order to handle the requirements that come with policy procedures and practices. Moreover, as the phases of civil society development demonstrate, increased government funding bears a serious risk of disconnecting from the wider base of diverse, vibrant and informally organised broader community of residents that provides the community its identity, constituency and legitimacy. When ‘building’ civil society will merely mean increased formalisation and professionalisation to implement government policies and deal with bureaucratic procedures, this could easily lead to uniformity and loss of the diversity and vibrancy that characterises the community. The challenge at this point, when entering the government subsidy system is to not lose this rootedness and vibrancy and weaken the community. This would be ultimately counterproductive in terms of civil society building and strengthening. Will the community find a way of relating with government without becoming too intertwined and dependent? And what would this require from both civil society and government?

References Boluijt, B. (2011). Makassarplein community: tussen twee werelden, Tilburg: Tilburgse School voor Politiek en Bestuur.

De NieuweDialoog (2006). CIVICUS Civil Society Index Report for the Netherlands, Amsterdam: De NieuweDialoog/CIVICUS. Dekker, P. (1998). ‘Nonprofit sector, civil society and volunteering: some evidence and questions from the Netherlands and the rest of Western Europe’, Third Sector Review 4, (2): 125--43.

Hupe, P. (1993). ‘Beyond pillarisation: The (post-) Welfare State in the Netherlands’, European Journal of Political Research 20 (23): 359--86.

Hupe, P. &Meijs, L. (2000). Hybrid Governance, The impact of the nonprofit sector in the Netherlands, Rotterdam: Erasmus University Rotterdam.

Meijs, L. (2004). Changing the welfare mix: going from a corporatist to a liberal nonprofit regime: http://www.jhu.edu/~istr/conferences/toronto/workingpapers Meijs, L.C.P.M. (2007). ‘Torn between Two Sectors: Government or Business? The International Journal of Volunteer Administration Number 3 Volume XXIV.

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Meijs, L.C.P.M. (2012). Reinventar la sociedad civil: A la tercerava la vencida! In Víctor Pérez-Díaz.

Europa ante una crisis global. P165-182, Gota a Gota, Madrid.

Pennings, P.J.M. (1991). Verzuiling en ontzuiling: De lokale verschillen. Kampen: Kok. Salamon, L.; Sokolowski, S. &Anheier, H. (2000). Social Origins of Civil Societies: An Overview, Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press.

Schulpen, L. (2006). ‘The NGDO battle – changes in the subsidy structure’, in Hoebink, P. (ed.)

Netherlands Yearbook on International Cooperation, Assen: Van Gorcum.

Schulpen, L. (2009). ‘From ‘licking wounds’ to ‘private initiatives’ – Dutch private development cooperation in 2007’ in Hoebink, P. (ed.), Netherlands Yearbook on International Cooperation, Assen: Van Gorcum.

Sterk, M. (2011). ‘Buurtinitiatief in nieuw perspectief. Een kwalitatief onderzoek naar de Karrewiel Community in de Indische Buurt in Amsterdam-Oost’, Amsterdam: Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam (Master thesis).

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