The Utility of Bonding Social Capital

ARTICLE

The Utility of Bonding Social Capital

STEN WIDMALM

Department of Government, Uppsala University, Sweden

ABSTRACT In most studies of social capital, bridging social capital is emphasized as ‘good’ fordemocracy and economic performance. It is rarer to find studies showing that bonding socialcapital can bring positive effects. Mostly, bonding social capital is either overlooked or depictedas the ‘villain’ that leads to ethnic conflict, intolerant behaviour and poor economic anddemocratic development. In this article, it is argued that this picture needs to be revised. If weassume that bonding trust is a negative force for development and democracy, we ignore asubstantial portion of the political history of the West. Also, new empirical evidence from Indiasuggests that bonding social capital is related to good governance. High levels of bonding trustcannot only facilitate political cooperation. They may also work as a shield against public sectoremployees who attempt to exploit citizens in a corrupt or clientelistic manner. The conclusiondrawn in the article is that the view of social capital as a prime mover with inherent normativelyattractive qualities should give way to a perspective where social capital is more properlyregarded as an intermediate variable where the way it is combined with, or interacts with, otherfactors determines outcomes.

KEY WORDS: Social capital, governance, democracy, community, social development

Introduction

Since Putnam’s wake-up call a decade ago, the debate on social capital has certainly dee-

pened and diversified. Although there is still no clear consensus about what social capital

really is,1 a substantial portion of research has focused on issues relating to trust. There is

one perception in particular in this debate which has gained a support that may to some

extent be considered unwarranted. While several studies have focused on the usefulness

or ‘good’ qualities of bridging social capital, bonding social capital has either been neg-

lected or seen as the ‘villain’ which breeds ethnic conflict and puts a brake on develop-

ment. To some extent this view has worked its way through to development agencies

Journal of Civil Society

Vol. 1, No. 1, 75–95, May 2005

Correspondence Address: Sten Widmalm, Department of Government, Uppsala University, PO Box 514,

SE-75120, Uppsala, Sweden. Email: [email protected]

ISSN 1744-8689 Print=1744-8697 Online=05=010075–21 # 2005 Taylor & FrancisDOI: 10.1080=17448680500210680

and policy makers. However, it will be argued here that we need to reconsider this view of

bonding social capital, at least if we are interested in identifying the type of trust needed

for collective action to produce results that may benefit society as a whole. If we assume that

bonding social capital is generally a force that inhibits development and democracy, we

ignore a substantial portion of the political history of the West. The political movements

that have provided political rights for women, blacks and workers may be cited to

support this argument. Furthermore, we can provide empirical evidence from India to

suggest that bonding social capital is related in an important way to good governance.

Bonding trust may not only be useful to those who want to act politically in a coordinated

and effective manner, it may also serve as a bulwark against public sector employees who

attempt to exploit citizens and even other civil servants and elected officials. From these

results we can draw the conclusion that although it has undoubtedly been shown that

social capital can play a central role for development, trying to brand various types of

social capital as intrinsically ‘good’ or ‘bad’ may prove a futile task. We begin by

looking more closely at the social capital debate and then move to the empirical examples

of bonding social capital at work in favour of democratic performance in the West. At the

end of the article we turn to the study in a completely different context—India—where we

can find examples of bonding social capital at work today in a way that favours democracy.

Naturally the cases discussed are not exhaustive. However, they should serve as useful illus-

trations to the idea that in a variety of contexts and situations, and places in time and history,

bonding trust can be an absolute necessity for protecting certain groups in society. At least to

some extent this can be seen as evidence against the prevailing idea that bonding trust is

necessarily an adversary of development. Finally, this leads us to challenge the view of

social capital as a prime mover with inherent normatively attractive qualities.

Disaggregating Social Capital and the Search for Utility

According to James Coleman, social capital, unlike other forms of capital, “is embodied in

the relations among persons” (Coleman, 1990, p. 304). But, just like other forms of capital,

social capital “facilitates productive activity” (ibid.). Although writers offer widely differ-

ent perspectives on what social capital can be said to consist of (see Krishna, 2000; Offe &

Fuchs, 2002; Perez-Dıaz, 2002), yet a substantial part of the social science literature agrees

that social capital is indicated by trust, networks and/or shared norms.2 The presence of

social capital can solve collective action problems (Blomkvist, 2003b; Paxton, 2002,

p. 256). Without trust between individuals, for example, certain tasks cannot be expected

to be accomplished in any society. Robert Putnam supplied us with important evidence of

the role of social capital in his study of democracy in Italy (Putnam, 1992). His findings

showed that where the citizens were engaged in organizations, social capital was produced

and it led not only to better democratic governance but also to better economic perform-

ance. The clarity and the impressiveness of the research result in combination with the

obvious utility of the findings for political and policy goals explains the great impact of

Putnam’s work on the research community as well as on political actors. Civil society

studies have proliferated and policy makers of various kinds have incorporated ideas on

how to build social capital in their action plans.3

One way towards an understanding of the role of the three main components men-

tioned—trust, networks or shared norms—is through a study of their different dimensions.

And in the years that followed, when the research field expanded, we could see how some

76 S. Widmalm

aspects or dimensions of social capital would commonly be pointed out as being more

useful or better than others. Social capital, and trust in more general terms, was hailed

as good for both democracy and economic growth (see Dasgupta, 2000; Helliwell &

Putnam, 2000; La Porta et al., 2000; Putnam & Goss, 2002; Wuthnow, 2002).

However, more specific claims have been made where we can discern another trend.

Putnam emphasized horizontal networks as an important aspect of civic life associated

with good governance, while vertical networks were associated with the mafia and the

“institutional Catholic Church” (Putnam, 1992, p. 173).4 An important part of this

debate has also focused on Granovetter’s distinction between weak and strong ties

between individuals (Granovetter, 1973). Paxton uses data from the World Value

Survey and the Union of International Associations in a study which shows that associ-

ations that:

. . . are connected to the larger community have a positive effect on democracy,

while isolated associations have a negative effect. (Paxton, 2002, p. 254)

In a study of ethnic Chinese in Southern California, Uslaner and Conley show that “people

with looser ties with their in-group are more likely to take an active role in the larger

society” and that:

. . . people with strong ethnic identifications and who associate primarily with people of

their own kind either withdraw from civic participation or will belong only to organi-

zations made up of their own nationality. (Uslaner & Conley, 2003, pp. 331–334)

Knack studies governmental performance in America in relation to social capital and

finds that:

. . . aspects of social capital that are conceptually identified with generalized recipro-

city (such as social trust, volunteering, and census response) are associated with

better governmental performance. (Knack, 2002, p. 772)

While:

. . . aspects of social capital identified with social connectedness (including activity

in associations and informal socializing) are unrelated to governmental perform-

ance. (Knack, 2002, p. 772)

Uslaner also argues that trust, and in particular generalized trust, leads to better govern-

ance, “more redistribution and economic growth” and less corruption (Uslaner, 2004).

Gambetta argues along the same lines as della Porta and Vannucci when he claims that

the Mafia depends on high levels of in-group trust while distrusting people outside the

group (della Porta & Vannucci, 1999; Gambetta, 1993). And in an important recent con-

tribution on ethnic violence in India Varshney shows that “intercommunal” or interethnic

associations were crucial in building peaceful relations in the areas studied, while “intra-

communal” associations “were not found useful for purposes of ethnic or communal

peace” (Varshney, 2002, p. 281). Finally, in another influential contribution, made by

The Unity of Bonding Social Capital 77

Deepa Narayan for the World Bank, one of the main arguments is that societies with low

cross-cutting ties are beset by conflict or exclusion (Narayan, 1999).

We can see that a substantial part of the current debate on social capital emphasizes

the bridging and bonding dimension. The main theme is also that societies which are

characterized by the presence of bridging social capital, networks and trust that extend

beyond group identities are well governed and quite peaceful. On the other hand,

societies that are characterized by bonding or intra-group trust and where organizations

mainly ‘stick to their own’ are plagued by poor government performance, low political

engagement and sometimes even violence. If we narrow the focus and look at the

research contributions that investigate the extent to which people trust other people

within their own social groups as opposed to people in other groups, we find little to

support the claim that bonding trust can be good for government performance in demo-

cratic contexts. In this study 800 articles dealing with social capital were examined. Of

these, about 60 distinguished between various types of social capital along the lines dis-

cussed here. Only in two contributions was it mentioned that bonding trust can be just as

useful as bridging trust. None of the other research contributions would treat bonding

trust as an instrument or factor related to good governance, democracy or development.5

Of the scholars on the topic most referred to it is actually only Putnam that holds the

door open to the fact that also bonding social capital can be useful.6 Otherwise the

impression is simply that bridging is good and bonding bad. Furthermore it should

be noted that in this debate on social capital there is a tendency to argue that there is

a zero-sum game relationship between intra-group and inter-group trust (see Narayan,

1999, p. 8).

It is not surprising that some donors utilize these research results in policy strategies for

aid. Interviews with representatives working on civil society issues or support for NGOs

on behalf of Sida, IMF, the World Bank, DFID, USAID, Finnida and Norad revealed a

variety of positions on this issue.7 While USAID, Finnida and Norad seem not to place

great emphasis on social capital aspects in general, the Danish aid agency Danida had

strong reservations against supporting organizations that mainly build bonding social

capital. A few years ago the Swedish International Development Cooperation Agency

(Sida) showed a tendency to take the same stance as Danida. For example, in a paper

written by a project group for “participation in democratic governance” within Sida, it

is argued that civil society organizations have to be internally democratic and character-

ized by a “horizontal structure”, and they have to have a “broad and diversified member-

ship base and financing” (Sida, 2002, p. 22). More recently, however, Sida has taken a

more open view on this issue. It seems that Sida allies itself with the current positions

of the World Bank and DFID where the distinction between bonding and bridging

social capital is concerned, although they do not use it as a selection criterion for

support to NGOs. Undoubtedly the World Bank takes seriously claims about how high

levels of social capital in general are related to economic growth.8 Nonetheless the brid-

ging/bonding dimensions do not seem to be so central in this debate. And when it comes to

more concrete policies, for example when making decisions on aid recipients, factors

relating to performance in relation to poverty reduction seem to play a more central

role for the World Bank and DFID—at least according to what the interviews in this

study revealed. And there are good reasons, it seems, to follow the latter strategy if we

think in policy terms. Using the type of social capital which organizations may produce

as the criterion for selecting aid recipients may be a great mistake.

78 S. Widmalm

Although there may be no reason to question the results in each and every one of the

studies mentioned above, we need to watch where the general current is taking us. We

should not forget that most of the studies have focused on showing how bridging trust

is related to, for example, economic growth and/or high democratic performance.

Several of the studies mentioned have simply not investigated whether bonding social

capital can play a more positive role in promoting democracy, governance, peace and

economic growth. However, there is evidence to support the argument that intra-group

trust or bonding social capital can indeed do this.

To bring this argument home we will make a journey, from the Western experience of

democratic development, to India’s ongoing decentralization reforms. It will be argued

that although the contexts vary greatly, bonding social capital can be a key factor contri-

buting to good governance, democratic performance and the promotion of equality as a

political goal. Also we will find that there is not necessarily an inherent contradiction

between bridging and bonding social capital.

Western Democracy and Bonding Social Capital

A longue duree perspective may not be necessary,9 but a study of the role of social capital

based on examples from the history of democratic development in the West during the last

100 or 150 years may be more useful as a complement to studies (including my own study

in India, discussed below) that have mainly been designed as snapshots of the level of

social capital at one point in time.10 Just consider how effectively Sheri Berman adds

support to the observation made by William Shirer in the 1950s that the Weimar Republic

was full of civic organizations but still produced one of the most destructive and oppres-

sive regimes ever witnessed (Berman, 1997; Shirer, 1950). From a historical perspective,

there may be other more encouraging examples from which we can also draw conclusions.

I think that we can use the civil rights movement in America, the women’s rights move-

ment and the workers’ rights movement to illustrate how bonding social capital can be

useful for democracy. These three movements and political currents have been among

the most important in defining democratic evolution in the West. Although it is hard to

find direct measurements of levels of bonding or bridging trust in the historical accounts

of these movements, we can at least detect indicators of trust and the kind of networks that

were created. In particular, building a common political identity and defining a political

opponent is a feature that relates strongly to building bonding social capital. And these

three movements all have in common the fact that they have defined their own political

identity and then emerged as the challengers to a dominant political system. In refined

language the opponents have consisted of the political right wing, the supporters of a patri-

archal system, and the enemies of equal rights. In simplified terms these have been cate-

gorized as capitalists, men and whites. Naturally, it is easy to assume that they must have

relied on some bonding social capital in order to hold their organizations and movements

together. Some bonding social capital is a necessary attribute of any movement, almost by

definition. However, what should be emphasized here is that these movements may have

relied significantly more on bonding social capital than is usually acknowledged in the

social capital literature, and especially so at some periods when bridging social capital

was virtually absent. At certain phases, the aim of these movements has not been to

create bridges or compromises. The aim has rather been to challenge and even overthrow

political opponents and the values they have represented. And this has been good for


democracy. It has made it vibrant, it has taught the state—at least in some significant

cases—to be responsive to demands based on equal rights and, in return, democracy

and state institutions have gained legitimacy.

To gain deeper insights into the role of bonding social capital one may consider the

actions of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) in the civil rights

movement in the US during the 1960s. African-Americans had undoubtedly organized

themselves before. After the Civil War the “African American voluntary associations pro-

liferated at an accelerated pace” and in 1909 the National Association for the Advance-

ment of Colored People (NAACP) was founded (Skocpol et al., 1999, p. 56; Skocpol,

1999, p. 468). However, as Skocpol points out, although the NAACP advocated civil

rights long before the civil rights conflicts of the 1960s broke out, it never recruited

more than 2 per cent of African-Americans as members, and those who joined were

“mostly professionals and ministers” (Skocpol, 1999, p. 468). The ‘direct action’-oriented

organizations such as SNCC however changed things rapidly when they managed to coor-

dinate mass protests.

But the hostility of the environment, for example in the South where SNCC was active,

can hardly be overstated. Numerous violent mobs were encountered during the campaigns.

The challenge of activating the black citizens was enormous. Between 1930 and 1950

Mississippi alone had at least 33 lynchings (Payne, 1995, p. 7). In 1960 less than 2 per

cent of the black population of that state were registered voters (Payne, 1995, p. 1).

Voter registration campaigners tell similar stories about trust at the local level. No

doubt the white community saw the campaigners as enemies. But on top of that, when

the campaigners traveled in the states, regardless of skin colour, they met with the distrust

of the black community (Carson, 1995; Payne, 1995). Often the campaigners were seen as

“trouble makers”. Or as Payne describes the situation:

Wherever they were sent, the civil rights activists found that their initial reception by

local blacks was less than enthusiastic. The movement was generally dismissed as

‘dat mess’. Reprisals were virtually certain. Those who were even thought to be

interested in the movement might lose their jobs. Those who did join could

expect to be shot at and to have their churches bombed and their homes targeted

by arsonists. (Payne, 1995, p. 2)

The campaigners had therefore first, when campaigns began, to rely on trust solely among

their own workers. After some time, however, as it was realized that their aims were

serious and designed to achieve long-term results, they began to gain the trust of residents

in the areas where they worked. Certainly the fact that some of these activists were white

might have helped to build bridging trust across community lines. However, the emphasis

here should be on the fact that the level of trust within the black community was obviously

growing. This movement finally became so successful that it paved the way for the march

on Washington in 1963 and it contributed substantially to political victories such as the

Civil Rights Act which was passed in 1964 and the 1965 Voting Rights Act. Furthermore,

as Skocpol points out, the victories of the civil rights movement were a democratic water-

shed from which a rights revolution followed involving “feminists, homosexuals, and a

plethora of racial and ethnic minorities” (see Skocpol, 2002, p. 131; also see Skocpol,

1999, pp. 467, 472). Nonetheless, for the civil rights movement it seems that for a long

time the road to these victories had to depend mainly on the level of trust within the

80 S. Widmalm

black community. Only then could bridging social capital be utilized for political vic-

tories.11 This experience of the civil rights movement is in several respects similar to

that of the workers’ movement.

As Adam Przeworski observed:

. . . by 1848 the problem was to organize this emerging proletariat into a class, to

separate it from the masses of le peuple, to imbue it with consciousness of its

position and its mission, and to organize it as a party. (Przeworski, 1985, p. 54)

The early union leaders and party activists had to begin by creating or building a common

identity, to create cohesion and trust. Class-consciousness had to be built and undoubtedly

the early leaders were met by distrust and scepticism not too different from that encoun-

tered by the SNCC campaigners in the early 1960s.

Fifty years later this challenge had been met by the German Social Democratic Party.

But then it arrived at a watershed symbolized by and expressed in the conflict between

Rosa Luxemburg and Eduard Bernstein. Rothstein captures the historical struggle when

Bernstein argued that the workers had to bargain with the capitalists and Luxemburg

refused to compromise (Rothstein, 1987). She saw revolution as the only way to over-

throw the capitalist system of power. In the short term, Luxemburg won over Bernstein

as she refused to “bargain over exploitation” (Rothstein, 1987, pp. 299–300). But Bern-

stein’s critique of Marxism evolved from its early form of ‘revisionism’ into Social

Democracy. However, even if Bernstein’s model was more successful when it was

decided to accept compromise—thereby building bridges with the capitalists—unions

and social democratic parties have certainly thrived on bonding social capital in their

early phase. And in countries where social democracy has been quite successful, such

as Sweden, union members continue to express high levels of distrust of corporate

leaders (Oberg & Svensson, 2002).

Today, however, if we take a broad perspective, the workers’ movement has become

more fragmented and it is weaker in relation to the capitalists. The argument is often

put forward that the cohesion and trust within the movement have been diluted by too

much bargaining and too many accords between the elites representing the workers and

employers.12 Although observations like these will not necessarily diminish the value

of the victories gained for the workers’ movement in earlier periods, the observation is

important since it indicates an important shift in the political climate in the West. Also,

some of these observations may be relevant to feminists in the 1990s.

The most profound change in the feminist movement during the last hundred years, if

we are allowed briefly to lump together all the movements aimed at combating inequalities

between men and women, is the move from cohesion to fragmentation. By the late nine-

teenth century and the start of the twentieth century the suffrage movement was a unifying

cause. Ever since the days of the suffrage movement the guiding idea has not only been to

fight for certain rights (see Clemens, 1999; Skocpol, 2002)—it has also been a movement

designed to mobilize against a common enemy resisting change. Laura Clay’s divorced

mother’s comment in the late 1870s on the challenges faced when trying to recruit

support in the suffrage agitation is a symbolic representation:

I expect that we will find a good many masters standing in the way of the enlight-

enment of their slaves. Aren’t you glad we have no masters? (Fuller, 1975, p. 23)


Feminism has experienced several ‘waves’ and successes since then. The movement has

evolved and diversified—especially since the ‘take off’ mentioned above in the 1960s

from which the ‘second wave’ followed. Observing how women and other groups orga-

nized in the US from independence until today, Theda Skocpol refers to the sociologist

Debra Minkoff, who:

. . . documents that groups acting on behalf of women and racial or ethnic minorities

burgeoned sixfold between 1955 and 1985, from less than 100 to nearly 700. During

the 1970s and the 1980s, moreover, the mix of groups shifted sharply from cultural,

protest and service associations toward policy advocacy groups and service provi-

ders also engaged in advocacy. In contrast to earlier ethnic associations and

female partner groups, contemporary rights-advocacy groups aim to highlight

what makes their constituencies special and different from other Americans.

(Skocpol, 2002, p. 131)

The feminist movement has been successful and celebrated victories, but it has faced

serious setbacks or ‘backlashes’ (Faludi, 1992). Today the feminist movement is regarded

by some observers as being fragmented, or from another perspective more diversified, and

it is debated to what extent this is good or bad (Bull et al., 2000). On the one hand the

fragmentation is a result of the fact that women have taken more important positions in

different spheres of society. But it also seems that the dilemmas and challenges to the fem-

inists are to some extent similar to those faced by the workers and social democrats men-

tioned above. In an early phase the women’s rights movement relied heavily on bonding

trust among women although it would to some extent also rely on bridging social capital to

score political victories. However it is now argued that the fragmentation within the move-

ment has gone too far. It could be argued that too much of the bonding social capital has

been depleted. Or, as Randall puts it:

What is being undermined is a way of women thinking and acting collectively, both

in terms of ‘sisterhood’ and in terms of making claims on public resources to

promote women’s equality and autonomy. (Randall, 2000, p. 149)

Again, it should be noted that we are making broad generalizations about a complex

movement. However, although we can surely find counterexamples, it is still possible to

argue that for feminist organizations in several countries, bonding trust has been far

more important in producing political victories than bridging trust (Nelson & Chowdhury,

1994).

I think these examples tell us three things. First, bonding social capital, and in particular

bonding trust, is a necessary, although not on its own a sufficient, prerequisite or com-

ponent for a successful political movement. Michael Walzer’s discussion of the move-

ments for democratic citizenship, socialist production, free enterprise, and nationalism

may be useful here:

There was a kind of heroism in these projects—a concentration of energy, a clear

sense of direction, an unblinking recognition of friends and enemies. (Walzer,

1992, p. 103)

82 S. Widmalm

This description fits the rights movements in the West mentioned here, in particular in

their early phases. A common identity was built and it probably created bonds, built on

trust, among the members of the movement. In this process the lack of trust across

groups was instrumental. Just as liberal theory evolved from the lack of trust in

government (see Hardin, 2004, p. 4; Skocpol & Fiorina, 1999, p. 14), so have other

rights-oriented movements been fuelled by the lack of trust towards their political

adversaries—why else aim at establishing formal rights? Distrust is also a powerful

engine for change in democratic directions.

Secondly, it is also clear that at certain points these movements have had to rely on

bridging trust—if only between the leaders of the political antagonists. After the move-

ments had succeeded in mobilizing, building a common identity and forming closely-

knit organizations, the political ‘enemies’ of, for example, civil rights, workers’ rights

and women’s voting rights, simply had to be prepared to negotiate. And the leaders

of these movements had to do the same in order to cash in and score political victories.

Processes of negotiation can, however, work to a varying extent as a double-edged

sword. Too many ties and too much bridging trust at the elite level can deflate a

rights movement. If political positions have to be negotiated and compromised too

far, the cadres may lose confidence. Consequently bridging social capital sometimes

leads to a process where the ideological content of a movement may be diluted. This

is at present a common criticism of the union movements in Europe for example.13

However, this problem is rarely discussed in the literature where the usefulness of brid-

ging trust is emphasized. On the other hand, it should not be forgotten that upholding a

very radical position and only building the bonding type of social capital may also be

counterproductive for a movement. In 1965 Stokely Carmichael took the SNCC into

a more radical phase but the movement lost strength from this (Carson, 1995)—an

experience not too different from the dilemma faced by Rosa Luxemburg. Obviously,

both bridging and bonding social capital are important if a political movement is to

be successful, but there is no single formula that will fit all movements at all times.

Nevertheless, consider, for example, how the corporatist structure in Sweden has

allowed union leaders at national level to create bonding social capital with capitalists

and how that has allowed the workers to reap a valuable political harvest. In Svensson’s

and Oberg’s perspective when analysing “coordinated market economies”, large

amounts of bonding trust in the cadres, added to a teaspoonful or so of bridging trust

at the leadership level, have provided one recipe for successful policies for workers’

demands (Oberg & Svensson, 2002).

Thirdly, and this has not been a dimension that has been thoroughly discussed in the

debate on social capital, the cohesion that is created by bonding trust does not only facili-

tate cooperation. It seems that there is a passive role that bonding social capital can play in

protecting a group or community from exploitation. A political agent that has an interest in

using a certain group in society for its purposes will naturally be able to dominate a frag-

mented society more easily than one where the level of bonding trust is perceived as high.

Blacks in the South of the US were exploited just as women and workers have been when

group identity has been weak, or the level of trust among the members of the group has

been low. However, when the level of bonding social capital is high it seems that a

barrier is created which is not easily penetrated by someone who wants to control the

rules of the game in a political system. These observations, I will argue, are also valid

for other areas of the world as well, or at least they are in India.


Social Capital in India

We now leave the historical perspectives behind for while to look at a fairly recent snap-

shot of India. The reason for going there is that we can strengthen the argument about the

positive external effect of bonding social capital. Although we have seen that the examples

from the West which illustrate how the promotion of rights for certain groups—groups

relying on bonding social capital—has supported democracy as a whole, it may still be

easily assumed that bonding social capital is less useful in a place like modern India.

The rise of Hindu nationalism in India for example is strongly related to Hindus distrusting

Muslims. In Uttar Pradesh in 1992, Hindu nationalists destroyed a mosque in Ayodhya,

after which several violent clashes followed where Muslims were the main targets. In

2002 perhaps as many as 2000 Muslims were killed by Hindu nationalist inspired riots

in Gujarat. In parts of Madhya Pradesh where the Bhartiya Janata Party has moved

forward lately almost 90 per cent of the Hindus express distrust of Muslims (Widmalm,

2005b). And, as we mentioned earlier, Varshney has convincingly argued that it is

networks across ethnic lines that work to prevent conflict, while networks of intraethnic

ties can accentuate even a small conflict into large-scale violence (Varshney, 2002). We

can therefore use India as something close to a least likely case for testing the prevailing

view that bonding social capital is bad for development.

Factors that may determine the outcome of recent decentralization reforms in India were

examined in a survey conducted in 24 villages and with 1163 respondents in the states of

Kerala and Madhya Pradesh. The two states were chosen because they represent very

different socio-economic and political contexts. In Kerala literacy levels are quite high,

life expectancy is the highest in India, and there are a number of other indicators that

show that Kerala is the state performing best in terms of human development. For a

long time Madhya Pradesh has presented the opposite image. However, it should be

noted that the social reforms carried out by the former chief minister Digvijay Singh

have put Madhya Pradesh on the road to development. The idea behind choosing such

different states was that we were trying to separate factors that were important for deter-

mining the quality of governance in a variety of settings from those that were more

context-sensitive.

The survey results were aggregated to the village level, and then we searched for vari-

ables that could explain economic outcome and performance in services delivered in the

public sector in general and in the public health and education sectors in particular. Here

we will mainly discuss how various measures of performance related to various trust types.

Interesting results emerged from the following five questions which were put to the

interviewees, who were asked to indicate their response on a five-grade scale. To

capture generalized trust, the first question presented the statement “Most people are

. . .” and the interviewee was asked to indicate a position on the scale ranging from “dis-

honest” to “honest”. Then, to capture intragroup trust, the interviewee was presented with

the statement “In comparison with other people, members of your own religious commu-

nity can be . . .” and was then asked to indicate a position ranging from “less trusted” to

“more trusted”. To capture trust within the caste system we presented Hindus with the

statement “In comparison with other people, members of your own caste (jati) group

can be . . .” and then asked them to indicate a response ranging from “less trusted” to

“more trusted”. Finally, in order to pin down generalized and intragroup trust with an

alternative approach we used a more tangible example and presented the two following

84 S. Widmalm

statements “If I get sick, I can count on help from members of my own religious commu-

nity” and “If I get sick, I can count on help from anyone” where the respondents could

indicate their reply ranging from “never” to “always”.14 Let us refer to these questions

with the following shorter terms: ‘generalized trust’, ‘religious group trust’, ‘caste

trust’, ‘religious group trust (exemplified)’, and ‘generalized trust (exemplified)’.

To begin with, several findings in the study confirmed the prevailing view that bridging

social capital, or in this case bridging trust, is related to democratic and economic

development (see Appendix A for the detailed results). Levels of high generalized trust

(of both kinds used in the survey) were found in villages where the housing standard

was high, where the Panchayat (village, or group of villages) administration was said to

deliver services fulfilling the needs of the citizens, where the Panchayat leaders were

perceived to be close to the citizens. And, although this connection turned out to be a

bit shaky, we found a relationship between a low level of corruption and high generalized

trust (exemplified).15 Moreover, the fact that bonding trust can be related to poor develop-

ment was to some extent confirmed. In villages where the housing standard was low,

where educational and health needs were not perceived as fulfilled, and where the

Panchayat leaders were seen as distant from the citizens, trust within the caste group, or

in the latter case, religious group trust (exemplified), was high.

But then the traditional view on bonding trust runs into trouble. To begin with, in the

villages where the Panchayat leaders were perceived to be close to the citizens, not

only was generalized trust high, but so was intragroup trust, or religious group trust (exem-

plified). Obviously no zero-sum relationship between bonding and bridging trust is dis-

played.16 Furthermore we looked more closely at the characteristics of the population

and society that could be related to lower levels of corruption in those sectors. Surpris-

ingly, the results in this part of the study show no indication that, for example, class struc-

ture, caste structure, or the level of education in the villages was related to performance

operationalized as corruption. And, as we mentioned above, the first question about gen-

eralized trust (exemplified) was only weakly related to the level of corruption. This was

unforeseen, since the discourse on collective action had prepared us to find that people

could act effectively to pursue common interests, such as taking measures to combat cor-

ruption, in societies with high levels of human capital and/or generalized trust. On the

other hand, the question on religious group trust (exemplified), which may be seen as a

measurement of bonding social capital since it refers to the kind of help that can be

expected from members of the interviewee’s own ‘religious community’, was indeed

more clearly correlated to good performance or low levels of corruption.17 This was

also surprising, given the aforementioned trend in the social capital literature where

intra-group trust has mostly been regarded with suspicion.18 In this study we found that

bonding trust was related to the absence of corrupt practices in the fields of education

and health. Consequently, in the study in India, at the village level, we find support for

the hypothesis that generalized or bridging trust helps to improve governance. But we

found unexpectedly strong support for a hypothesis that bonding social capital can also

play a positive role for good governance. So, paradoxically, in societies where people

trust their own group more than those outside it, the effect may be that governance

improves, and it may do so in sectors from which everyone may benefit.

Again, we find no evidence that there has to be a zero-sum game relationship between

bonding and bridging trust. Trust in members of one’s own community does not necess-

arily exclude trust in people in general.19 On the contrary, when we look at all the individ-


uals included in this study we find a correlation between the level of bridging and bonding

trust. The results tell us that moving one step on the inter-group trust scale corresponds on

average to moving half a step on the intra-group scale.20 Nevertheless, at the village level

the bridging-trust variable behaves in a more unpredicted way in relation to performance

than the bonding trust variable. Bonding trust, however, is clearly important for demo-

cratic performance in the parts of India studied here and these results are consistent

with the experience of democracy in the West.

Conclusions

In the empirical examples discussed here, we can find further support for the claim that

trust facilitates cooperation and helps to solve collective-action problems. From that per-

spective social capital is a resource that enables groups to work actively in a coordinated

way. But it is at least problematic to claim that only the bridging dimension of various

components of social capital (i.e., trust, networks and norms) is conducive to development.

A combination of bridging and bonding social capital may sometimes be what is needed in

order to transform efforts at political mobilization into political victories. We also see that

bonding trust is a necessary component of any successful political movement and that this

point is not strongly enough emphasized in the current debate on social capital. We could

even go further and emphasize the virtues of distrust. The historical examples from the

West show that polarization between political adversaries and actors has characterized

the evolution of these movements. Although they have certainly also made use of bridging

trust, their histories are characterized rather by conflict, tension, struggle and a strong

sense of ‘us against them’ than by the more cosy political relationships described in, for

example, the literature on consociational democracy.

Another important conclusion we draw here is that, contrary to what current research

trends in the way social capital is seen suggest, bonding social capital can be related to

good governance and it can work against corruption. Naturally, we come back to the

fact that trust, in any form, makes political coordination and action easier and therefore

we can hypothesize that in societies with bonding trust citizens will be more likely to

protest, to act and to create pressure against corrupt practices. In the study carried out

in India that is presented here, however, we did not find strong support for the idea of

that as the main mechanism. The citizens of villages that were functioning well were

not necessarily more politically active than those in the corrupt ones. The explanation

is most likely found in the role played by bonding social capital in a more passive way.

The mere presence of bonding social capital creates a dilemma for, for example, a public

official who desires to extract illegal fees or bribes from a group of people. The value of the

bribe has to be weighed against the risk that the community will react collectively and take

countermeasures. And the risk of countermeasures, such as protests and the threat of legal

repercussions, is decidedly higher in a society with high levels of bonding trust than in one

that is fragmented and characterized by low levels of bonding trust. The Indian cases are not

alone in illustrating this point. The case of the SNCC is also useful. Parts of the white com-

munity could resort to exploitation and abuse while bonding trust was lacking in the black

community. The threat of violence continued to uphold the level of distrust until the civil

rights movement managed to foster a degree of group allegiance based on a defined

common identity and close social ties within the group. The women’s rights and

workers’ rights movements, although to an extent that varies in different phases of their his-

86 S. Widmalm

tories, have had this experience. And the villages in India studied here give support to this

idea that cohesion, even if it is more within the group than across groups, can provide some

kind of important counterweight to exploitative forces.

Here we find a deviation from more common perspectives in the field. Varshney

claims that associational engagement is a sturdy “bulwark of peace” (Varshney, 2001,

p. 9) and that:

. . . the more the associational networks cut across ethnic boundaries, the harder it is

for politicians to polarize communities (Varshney, 2001, p. 363).

That idea goes back to Robert Dahl and Arend Lijphart and their contributions in the

1970s, and above all, as Lijphart points out, to Gabriel Almond:

According to the theory of crosscutting or overlapping memberships which . . . is

one of the theoretical bases of Almond’s typology, crosscutting entails cross-

pressures that make for moderate attitudes and actions. (Lijphart, 1977, p. 75)21

However, we should add to these perspectives that democratic stability or performance is

not only dependent on crosscutting cleavages or overarching loyalties. Bonding social

capital, or more specifically trust within communities, can work as a useful counterbalance

in situations where otherwise one political actor would take a hegemonic role. Or, to use

one of Varshney’s metaphors, bonding social capital may work as a useful bulwark against

exploitation. The examples presented here show that bonding trust in particular, and also

distrust, may be useful for the mere survival as well as the continued political success of

certain groups in politics. However, the contributions of, for example, the workers’ rights

movement, the women’s rights movement and the civil rights movement go far beyond

‘their own’ groups. They illustrate that bonding trust can be not only useful but crucial

to the evolution of democracy in a much broader perspective.

Against this background it may be useful to illustrate a number of examples of possible

positions in which movements can be placed with regard to how they link or do not link

with other groups and in relation to social capital and various forms of trust. In Table 1 we

mainly look at potentially politically active groups and their relationship to their own and

other groups.

In the lower right corner we find the groups discussed above before they joined as

movements that were strongly mobilized. Using a Marxist terminology we would argue

Table 1. Political mobilization, and bonding and bridging trust

Bridging

(Relatively) High Low

Bonding High Mobilized blacks, women and workers‘cashing in’ political victories and/orbecoming de-radicalised

Well governed villages in India

Blacks, women andworkers mobilizing

Low Non-partisan cooperation? Non-mobilized blacks,women and workers


that their objective political identities had not yet been transformed into subjectively

realized political identities. The upper right corner illustrates when movements engaging

women, workers and blacks in the West were mobilized but where the political gains were

not yet ‘cashed in’. That is however what happened in the upper left corner where the

bonds within the movements are strong and yet some bridging trust enabled negotiations

that led to important political victories for these movements. Also we recognize the situ-

ation from India, where some bridging trust but in particular bonding trust was found

related to good governance. The lower left position is interesting although it is uncertain

if we can find any real examples of it. Can bridging trust be high while bonding is low?

Does not bridging presuppose bonding trust? Non-partisan cooperation of various kinds

easily comes to mind here. One example that could fit into this box comes from the

Swedish island of Gotland, where in the early 1990s women from all political parties

created meetings which resulted in an agenda demanding political reforms in the health

sector—reforms especially concerning women (Eduards, 2002, pp. 73–77). In this case

the bonding identity based on a political left–right dimension that had initially brought

these women into politics had weakened to such extent that these women decided to

cooperate across this political dimension. The cooperation created bridging networks

and trust as the party identification weakened. On the other hand, arguably this would

make them a case fitting better in the top right or left corner since their politicized

gender identity—clearly of a bonding type—grew stronger at the expense of party identi-

fication. So perhaps the lower left corner is not logically possible. By contrast, it is clearly

in situations described in the top row that we can expect political action. It verifies the

claim that trust is a necessary condition for any political movement. And the contribution

here has been mainly to show the possible utility of the bonding kind.

As a final reflection, it seems from the results presented here that it is a good idea to be

more careful when trying to argue that certain types of social capital are per se connected

to different types of utility or dangers. Perhaps Coleman set us on the wrong track when

defining social capital as something which “facilitates productive activity” (Coleman,

1990, p. 304, my emphasis). Several other authors have followed this line of thinking, con-

necting social capital to outcomes of which we are normatively in favour (see Offe &

Fuchs, 2002, p. 189; Turner, 2000, p. 95).22 However Berman put us on the right track

when she queried the role of social capital in the Weimar Republic and it is easy to

imagine how the connectedness and trust within the movements discussed here could

be found within movements that are working against equality or civil rights as well. For

example, Sheilagh Ogilvie shows in a recent contribution that social capital can hinder

development and work in favour of preserving patriarchal structures (Ogilvie, 2003). Cer-

tainly social capital is a resource for groups, but for which ends it is used is most likely

decided by non-inherent qualities. And therefore, if we think about the development of

supporting players and look at their policies, we need to take care not only to evaluate

civil society organizations mainly by the type of social capital to which they contribute.

Bridging social capital is certainly useful at times, but bonding trust may also be a necess-

ary factor if we want a vibrant democracy where demands from unprivileged groups are

put forward vigorously. But even so, social capital alone is not enough, at least not accord-

ing to Robert Wuthnow:

. . . any discussion focusing only on the decline in trust is missing the more essential

fact that trust has been, and remains, quite differently distributed across status

88 S. Widmalm

groups. These conclusions are worth emphasizing because they contradict the

conventional view that social capital is a resource that the marginalized may be

able to use even if they do not have other resources. If the hope is that association

memberships are enough to build trust despite an absence of other socioeconomic

resources, however, that hope appears to be ill founded. (Wuthnow, 2002, p. 86)

Putnam’s contributions on social capital undoubtedly boosted many policy makers’

hopes that we had found one factor in societal structures that had an important impact

favouring growth and democratic development—and that these factors were of a kind

that could be shaped by public policies. But it turns out that social capital can be utilized

by organizations that work against development, and if it also becomes more apparent that

the way we take apart social capital is not enabling us to understand what gives, for

example, good governance or a better functioning democracy or economy according to

a more general pattern then only one possibility remains. And that is that social capital

should more often be seen as an important intermediate variable when we try to understand

economic and democratic development. And consequently this is where research endea-

vours involving social capital have more to contribute—pointing out which contextual

and/or underlying variables may be prime movers and working together with trust,

networks and norms.

Acknowledgements

This paper has been written as part of a research project that is supported by Sida/Sarec

and the Faculty of Social Sciences at Uppsala University. The research has been carried

out in cooperation with the Department of Government, Uppsala University, the Institute

of Social Sciences in New Delhi, Participatory Research in Asia (PRIA) in New Delhi,

Debate in Bhopal, the Madhya Pradesh Institute of Social Science Research in Ujjain,

Samarthan in Bhopal, Health Action by People (HAP) in Thiruvanantapuram, and the Uni-

versity of Kerala in Thiruvanantapuram. I am very grateful for the support and help I have

received in this project from all my colleagues in Sweden and India. In Sweden I am in

particular grateful to Johan Carlberg for his work as research assistant in the project. I

wish to thank Hans Blomkvist for putting me on the right track of investigating the brid-

ging and bonding dimensions at an early phase of the project. Also, I also wish to thank

Sven Oskarsson, Kare Vernby, Axel Hadenius, Jan Teorell, Per-Ola Oberg and Anders

Westholm. In India I have received invaluable help from George Mathew, Satinder

Singh Sahni, Yogesh Kumar, R.S. Gautam, R. Gopalakrishnan, Anand Inbanathan,

Jacob Kattakayam, Raman Kutty, Surendra Kumar Jena, Dinesh C. Sah, and Yogesh

Kumar.

Notes

1. For example Putnam (2002) and Dasgupta and Serageldin (2000) contain contributions from some of the

world’s leading scholars on the topic but they show surprisingly little agreement about what we should

call social capital. Kenneth Arrow also adds in the introduction to “Social Capital”: “. . . I would urge the

abandonment of the metaphor of capital and the term, ‘social capital’” (Arrow, 2000, p. 4). Also see

Smith and Kulynych (2002), where arguments along similar lines to Arrow’s are presented.

2. For a good overview of the social capital debate, see Blomkvist (2003).


3. See Hadenius and Uggla (1996) for an example of how Putnam’s perspectives on ‘horizontal’ and

‘vertical’ organizations are incorporated in policy recommendations for development.

4. In Putnam (2002), Putnam presents one of the most useful summaries of various dimensions of social

capital that is commonly in use (see pp. 9–11).

5. There are, however, a number of interesting studies that do not find a clear relationship between gener-

alized trust and democratic performance measured in various ways. One study by Liu and Besser (2003),

conducted in Iowa, showed that “generalized trust is not significantly related to elderly community invol-

vement” (Liu & Besser, 2003, p. 343). In another study of social capital in India Blomkvist shows that

generalized trust was negatively correlated to government responsiveness (Blomkvist, 2003). If we look

at networks, Teorell (2003) shows that in Sweden the number of memberships in voluntary associations

per citizen mattered more for political activity than “the extent to which one’s membership cut across

social cleavages” (Teorell, 2003, p. 49).

6. In Putnam and Feldstein (2003) it is mentioned that “both bonding and bridging social networks have

their uses”, but then the texts that follow focus entirely on bridging social capital because “a pluralist

democracy requires lots of bridging social capital, not just the bonding variety” (Putnam & Feldstein,

2003, p. 2). In Putnam and Goss (2002) Putnam states that “Bonding social capital brings together

people who are like one another in important respects (ethnicity, age, gender, social class, and so on),

whereas bridging social capital refers to social networks that bring together people who are unlike

one another. This is an important distinction, because the external effects of bridging networks are

likely to be positive, while bonding networks (limited within particular social niches) are at greater

risk of producing negative externalities. This is not to say that bonding groups are necessarily bad;

indeed evidence suggests that most of us get our social support from bonding rather than bridging

social ties. It is true, however, that without the natural restraints imposed by members’ crosscutting

allegiances and diverse perspectives, tightly knit and homogeneous groups can rather easily combine

for sinister ends. In other words, bonding without bridging equals Bosnia” (pp. 11–12). Also it

should be mentioned that, in a policy recommendation document commissioned by the Swedish

International Development Cooperation Agency, James Manor (2003) claims that both bonding and

bridging social capital can help facilitate poverty reduction (Manor, 2003, p. 18).

7. The interviews were carried out as a part of the project described in footnote one.

8. In an influential World Bank publication the economist Partha Dasgupta makes a strong argument for the

absolutely central role of trust for economic growth—a factor which he claims was only previously

rarely considered by economists. See Dasgupta and Serageldin (2000, pp. 329–330) and in particular

Dasgupta (2000). Also see Helliwell and Putnam (2000, pp. 265–266) and La Porta et al. (2000,

pp. 315–317).

9. In Putnam (1992), one thousand years of Italy’s history is taken into account.

10. Compare with l’histoire evenementielle as described by Francois Simiand (1903). See Braudel (1980,

p. 27).

11. See Wuthnow (2002, p. 86) for more information about trust among blacks in America and how it has

declined from the 1960s to the 1990s.

12. Robert Wuthnow adds an interesting observation that is relevant in connection with that problem. In the

US the decline of civic involvement has “been concentrated most heavily among the socially and econ-

omically marginalized, not among the more privileged segments of the middle class” (Wuthnow, 2002,

p. 60). Peter Hall (1999, 2002) makes a similar observation about Great Britain where social capital has

not declined in anything like the way that Putnam observes in Bowling Alone. However, like Wuthnow,

he observes a “nation divided between a well-connected and highly-active group of citizens with

generally prosperous lives and another set of citizens whose associational life and involvement in politics

are very limited” (Hall, 1999, p. 455).

13. Although such criticism is most often politically motivated.

14. The main reason for using these questions about whom one would consider helping in times of sickness

is that we found in previous studies in India (see Blomkvist, 2003) and in the pilot survey for this study

that respondents in several different contexts found it easy to respond and express their opinions about

this topic. Although the responses to these questions may not reveal to what extent people are more or

less helpful in a variety of different situation, it can at least be seen as a rudimentary indicator of how

different groups relate to each other in terms of trust. However, this way of pursuing research on trust

and how far beyond the individual it extends naturally raises many new questions. There were several

reasons for drawing the line here between ‘anyone’ and the individual’s ‘own religious community’.

90 S. Widmalm

One practical reason was simply that almost everyone participating in the survey, and equally in both

states, could easily relate to this distinction. However, the most important reason was that trust across

and within religious communities, especially between Hindus and Muslims, in India is widely seen as

crucial for both democratic and economic development in the country.

15. For an in-depth look at the results regarding corruption, see Widmalm (2005a).

16. We should be cautious in assuming a causal relationship here. Although most of the research assumes

that it is trusting citizens that create a well-performing state, several other authors have pointed out

the possibility of the opposite order of causality—that a well functioning state creates trust among the

citizens. (Chhibber, 2000; Rothstein, 2003a; Wuthnow, 2002, fn. 75).

17. Widmalm (2005a). This result was unexpected even if we consider the line of thinking of those quoted

above (footnote 16) who stress that a well governed state creates trusting citizens.

18. In particular, this result does not fit the conclusions drawn in Uslaner (2004).

19. The results for bonding social capital and bridging social capital: N ¼ 1155, R2 ¼ .305, S.E. of B ¼ .021,

B ¼ .483 (significant at 99 per cent level of confidence) (Widmalm, forthcoming).

20. Both are five-point scales.

21. Also see Dahl (1971, 1982).

22. Here, I agree with Narayan and Pritchett (2000, p. 281) that “functional definitions run the risk of

becoming circular”.

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Appendix A.

Bivariate Relationships, OLS Regression: Performance and Trust

Dependent variables Independent variables B S.E. Intercept R2 N

Housing: Generalized trust 2.798� .341 3.871 .199 24

Housing: Trust in caste group .674¤ .373 .160 .129 24

Corruption Religious group trust

(exemplified)

.500� .200 2.843 .222 24

Corruption Generalized trust

(exemplified)

.267¤ .153 2.177 .122 24

Panchayat satisfy needs Generalized trust .799� .361 2.121 .182 24

Panchayat satisfy needs Generalized trust

(exemplified)

.563�� .188 .410 .289 24

Educational needs

fulfilled

Caste trust 2.889� .423 4.810 .167 24

Health needs fulfilled Caste trust 2.826� .399 3.867 .163 24

Health needs fulfilled Generalized trust

(exemplified)

.611 .193 .163 .313 24

Distance to village

panchayat

Generalized trust 21.086�� .354 4.409 .300 24

Distance to village

panchayat

Religious group trust

(exemplified)

2.675� .296 3.558 .191 24

Distance to village

panchayat

Generalized trust

(exemplified)

2.535� .207 3.106 .233 24

¤ Statistically significant at the 10 per cent level� Statistically significant at the 5 per cent level�� Statistically significant at the 1 per cent level

The Scales, the Variables and the Questionnaire

All questions relating trust range from 0–4 and were phrased according to the presentation

on pp. 84–85.

Housing

Question: “In what kind of house do you live?”

Reply alternatives and coding: 1 ¼ Pucca (solid brick), 2 ¼ Semi-Pucca (asbestos, tile),

3 ¼ Kutcha (hut or non-brick). Consequently, moving one step on the trust scale from

little to more generalised trust, corresponds to moving about 80 per cent of a scale step

from right to the left, from poor to better housing, on the housing scale.

Corruption

The classification of the villages as corrupt or non-corrupt was done independently of the

survey (see Widmalm, 2005a). Coding: 0 ¼ Corrupt, 1 ¼ Non-corrupt. The result using

OLS is similar to what emerges from using logit. Also, the relationship between

94 S. Widmalm

corruption and generalized trust (exemplified) has been exposed to a more rigorous test

controlling for several other variables such as caste and levels of education. So moving

one step on the trust scale from little to more religious group trust (exemplified)

corresponds to moving about half a scale step on the corruption scale, from corrupt to

non-corrupt.

Panchayat Satisfy Needs

Question: “In your view, to which extent is the panchayat system able to satisfy these

needs with its projects or services?”

Reply alternatives and coding: 0 ¼ Not at all, to 4 ¼ Completely. Therefore, moving

for example one step on the generalized trust scale from little to more trust, corresponds

to moving about 80 per cent of a scale step on the scale for ‘Panchayat satisfy needs’ scale,

from less satisfaction to more of it.

Educational Needs Fulfilled

Question: “To which extent do the facilities for education in your area fulfill your needs?”

Reply alternatives and coding: 0 ¼ Not at all, to 4 ¼ Completely. Moving one step on

the caste trust scale from less trusted to more trusted, corresponds to moving about 90 per

cent of a full scale step, from satisfied to less satisfied, on the ‘education needs’ scale.

Health Needs Fulfilled

Question: “To which extent do the medical and health facilities in your area fulfill your

needs?”

Reply alternatives and coding: 0 ¼ Not at all, to 4 ¼ Completely. Moving one step on

the caste trust scale from less trusted to more trusted, corresponds to moving about 80 per

cent of a full scale step, from satisfied to less satisfied, on the ‘health needs’ scale.

Distance to Village Panchayat

Question: The question was preceded by an explanation of what could be meant by saying

that someone in the public administration or political life was to be considered as being

distant or close to the interviewee. For example close was operationalized as those repre-

sentatives that were “visible, available to the citizens, and responds to inquiries”.

Reply alternatives and coding: 0 ¼ Close, to 4 ¼ Distant. Consequently, moving one

step on the ‘religious group trust (exemplified)’ scale from less trusted to more trusted,

corresponds to moving about 70 per cent of one scale step from distant to close on ‘the

distance to village panchayat’ scale.


Documents

The Utility of Bonding Social Capital