Diffusion and decoupling in the world heritage movement: exploring global/local tensions in Africa

Over the years, the world society approach has generated an abundance of studies documenting the expansion and institutionalisation of various global structures and processes. One of the central assumptions of this approach is that conventional ‘actors’ (nation-states, corporations, prominent leaders, etc.), who are typically seen as autonomous and rational, and that pursue self-interested goals based on hard-wired interests, are embedded in a larger, global environment. This environment is characterised by two key features: (1) a diffuse, boundary-less world polity comprised of multiple, sovereign actors engaged in complex webs of association (Boli & Thomas, 1997; Meyer, 1980) and (2) a world culture comprised of broadly shared assumptions, principles and models of behaviour that have diffused across the globe (Boli & Thomas, 1999; Lechner & Boli, 2005). Thus, research in this area tends to focus less on patterns of conflict or exploitation rooted in self-interest, and more on patterns of institutional expansion and isomorphism generated within a common world society.

For example, scholars in this tradition have long argued that a state’s development hinges not only on particular domestic factors but diffuse global ones as well, specifically world-cultural models about the ‘proper’ nation-state (Meyer, Boli, Thomas, & Ramirez, 1997). As a result, any legitimate nation-state must strive to be, for example, sovereign, rational, bureaucratically efficient, economically developed, politically inclusive, and concerned for the welfare of citizens, regardless of particular cultural, historical, or geographical background (McNeely, 1995). Similarly, world society scholars emphasise how a common conception of ‘the individual’ (as autonomous, capable and inviolable) has diffused widely and become a fundamental building block of modern institutions. Thus, various levels of social organisation from local communities to states to international- and world-level bodies, emphasise the need for expansive institutions for education (Baker & LeTendre, 2005; Meyer, Ramirez, & Soysal, 1992; Schofer & Meyer, 2005), democracy (Diamond, 1992; Torfason & Ingram, 2010; Wejnert, 2005), and human rights (Elliott, 2007; Koenig, 2008; Koo & Ramirez, 2009) (among others) in order to better develop, empower and protect every individual.

Nonetheless, while institutions and models like these have diffused and expanded worldwide, different societies can have different capacities to implement them; most countries champion the virtues of education, democracy, and human rights and support their implementation, but the degree to which specific provisions and arrangements are actually put into place, or function properly, varies from place to place. Indeed, world-cultural models are difficult for any country to import wholesale precisely because, ironically, they have universal applicability and tend to be abstract, idealistic and detached from realistic considerations (see Meyer, 2010). World society, then, generates both isomorphism and decoupling at the same time.

The concept of decoupling is widely employed in this literature, yet it is not always precisely defined. In general, it tends to refer to the disjuncture between universal principles, models, scripts, etc. and their implementation among relevant actors in particular locations (see Meyer, 2010, pp. 13–14; Meyer et al., 1997, pp. 154–156). Summarised in shorthand, scholars often speak of decoupling ‘between principle and practice’, or ‘between ceremony and substance’. As Meyer (2010) states, ‘[t]he institutional theory of decoupling observes that, in the modern system, actor identities – structures, policies, plans, and constitutions – are statements about what should happen, but will probably not happen’ (p. 14). Thus, decoupling is a general process endemic to world society but it can take different concrete forms depending on the institutional arena and geographical locations involved. A related critique of this perspective is that too much emphasis is placed on instances of global diffusion and isomorphism without sufficiently explaining variations and contradictions at the local level (see Schofer, Hironaka, Frank, & Longhofer, 2012).

Here, we address this concern head-on through an analysis of the world heritage movement to show (a) how it has expanded into a vast global institution with common principles and standards and (b) how some of these principles and standards have become decoupled from national practice in certain parts of the world, leading to persistent inequality. To this end, we begin with a brief history of this movement to show how it established common notions of a global heritage and developed into an expansive institution whose centrepiece is the World Heritage List that recognises sites of outstanding universal value but remains controversial for underrepresenting non-Western regions. Next, we focus on the formalised process of evaluating and recognising particular sites to this List. We highlight how the process involves rational-scientific standards that are widely accepted yet are difficult to implement in less developed countries, which helps account for their underrepresentation. Finally, we concentrate on how some African countries struggle to nominate and manage their own world heritage sites, despite substantial assistance, in two distinct ways: (1) a lack of scientific and technical expertise and (2) a cultural mismatch between local and global conceptions of universal value. We conclude with a summary of how our research contributes to the explanation of global/local tensions from a world society perspective and make suggestions for future research in this area.

Today, ‘world heritage’ represents a vast array of societal achievements and natural wonders that are considered to have outstanding universal value for humanity as a whole and, therefore, are worthy of official recognition, protection and preservation by the international community (Elliott & Schmutz, 2012b). As summarised below, the beginnings of this movement are linked to cross-national efforts to protect the cultural property of national societies that emerged in the second half of the nineteenth century and found sustained momentum in the League of Nations system (Hall, 2011). After the Second World War, the movement expanded dramatically, primarily under the auspices of the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO). From the beginning, the world heritage movement expanded within an interconnected world polity of scientific experts, state representatives, non-governmental organisations and intergovernmental agencies (Elliott & Schmutz, 2012a). In addition to creating common rules and standards, these actors also espoused and articulated universalistic conceptions of the world and humanity that formed the cultural underpinnings of this movement.

Beginning in the nineteenth century, there is evidence of growing international value related to protecting representations of a nation’s cultural history. Of foremost concern was the protection of historic monuments. The Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings, for example, is one of the oldest non-governmental organisations (NGOs) of this sort and was founded in 1877 to preserve medieval buildings in their original state so they could be enjoyed by future generations as accurate records of the past. In 1904, the Sixth International Congress of Architects also advocated methods that preserved the original style of historic and artistic monuments as well as the establishment of restoration societies in every country that could collaborate in the formulation of a general inventory of architectural treasures (Sixth International Congress of Architects, 1904). While these NGOs were concerned with technical aspects of architectural preservation, ancient monuments were seen as more than just objects of scientific study; they were valued as living representations of the past that should be preserved for universal enjoyment and appreciation. As a result, any such monument had equal value in this respect. This universal orientation opened the door for systematic, cross-national efforts to study and catalogue ancient monuments anywhere in the world as well as to apply standardised principles of preservation.

At the same time, the international community included provisions for the protection of cultural property in several treaties regarding rules of warfare. While, on the one hand, cultural objects were seen as national or local property, they were also seen as a collective good that everyone had a duty to respect. Foremost among these treaties were the Hague Conventions of 1899 and 1907, which prohibited belligerent parties from seizing religious, charitable, educational, artistic, and scientific property or works of art, or destroying historic monuments. The Institute of International Law, a group of eminent jurists that won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1904, also drafted two legal manuals of their own regarding the laws of war on land (1880) and at sea (1913), which reiterated growing concerns against the destruction of cultural property.

The momentum produced by these efforts found a more permanent institutional arena in the League of Nations system after the First World War. In 1922, the League of Nations created the International Committee on Intellectual Cooperation (ICIC) to promote intellectual and cultural exchange across national boundaries. Among its bureaus was the International Museums Office (IMO), which was responsible for the conservation and restoration of national monuments and sites, and for bringing experts together to develop common principles of preservation (Daifuku, 1986). One such gathering was the First International Congress of Architects and Technicians of Historic Monuments, which met in Athens, Greece in 1931. The General conclusions of the Athens conference proposed new methods of historic preservation and called for expanded efforts of international collaboration, managed by the IMO and ICIC. In addition, it made reference to a more worldly conception of cultural heritage by calling on the community of states to take a greater interest in conserving ‘the artistic and archaeological property of mankind’ (First International Congress of Architects and Technicians of Historic Monuments, 1931). In 1938, the League of Nations approved the Preliminary Draft International Convention for the Protection of Historic Buildings and Works of Art in Time of War. The Preamble reiterated sentiments about a universal heritage, proclaiming ‘that the destruction of a masterpiece, whatever nation may have produced it, is a spiritual impoverishment for the entire international community’ (Sandholtz, 2007, p. 124).

Overall, the institutional environment provided by the League of Nations helped consolidate the varied efforts of cultural heritage advocates in the interwar years and advance its rationalised development. What is more, the organisational bodies created by the League (e.g. IMO, ICIC) helped set the stage for the contemporary development of world heritage under the auspices of UNESCO, which expanded and formalised this movement to an even greater degree after the Second World War. One of UNESCO’s first endeavours was an updated treaty for the protection of cultural property during wartime. The Protection of Cultural Property in the Event of Armed Conflict, also known as the Hague Convention, was adopted by in 1954 and made explicit reference to a world cultural heritage, stating ‘that damage to cultural property belonging to any people whatsoever means damage to the cultural heritage of all mankind, since each people makes its contribution to the culture of the world.’ Regional organisations followed suit and reaffirmed this notion of a common cultural heritage that transcended national boundaries. The Council of Europe drafted an array of treaties on this issue beginning in 1954 with the European Cultural Convention. The Organization of American States drafted the Convention for the Protection of the Archaeological, Historical and Artistic Heritage of the American Nations in 1976. And the Organization of African Unity drafted the Pan-African Cultural Manifesto in 1969.

In 1972, UNESCO adopted the Convention Concerning the Protection of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage, also called the World Heritage Convention, which has become the seminal policy instrument of this movement. It made a number of lasting proposals such as the need to protect aspects of the natural environment (in addition to human cultural products), the establishment of a World Heritage Fund to support state preservation activities, and the creation of a World Heritage List that would identify and protect sites of ‘outstanding universal value’ (UNESCO, 1972). Enshrining the notion of a common heritage that every nation has a duty to protect, the World Heritage Convention quickly attracted many adherents and became the most widely ratified UNESCO convention. In 2014, the Bahamas ratified the Convention bringing the total states parties to 191 and also completing ratification for all 33 nations in the Latin American and Caribbean region.

As indicated above, in order to merit inscription on the World Heritage List, a cultural or natural site must demonstrate ‘outstanding universal value’ to humanity (UNESCO, 1972). However, as both scholarly and technical publications have pointed out, the concept of outstanding universal value is open to a variety of interpretations and has evolved considerably since the early years of the World Heritage Convention (Jokilehto, Cameron, Parent, & Petzet, 2008; Labadi, 2013). Over time, this relatively ambiguous concept has become thoroughly formalised and procedures of verification have grown increasingly rigorous, which we see as consistent with broad trends in world society toward the ‘rationalization of virtue and virtuosity’ (Boli, 2006). Labadi (2013, p. 148), for example, argues that the subtle shift away from aesthetic values initially emphasised in the World Heritage Convention was an effort to maintain a ‘veneer of objectivity’ and universality. In the absence of a formal legal authority to define worldwide standards of value, the cultural authority of science has expanded to fill that void, providing highly rationalised and scientific bases of value in many domains of organised social life (Drori, Meyer, Ramirez, & Schofer, 2003; Meyer & Bromley, 2013).

A key observation of world society theory is that the proliferation of international non-governmental organisations (INGOs) has become an influential force in rationalising many global sectors. As ‘rationalised others’, INGOs exert that influence primarily by disseminating ideas, generating rules and setting standards throughout the world around a vast array of issues (Boli & Thomas, 1997, 1999). With respect to world heritage, two INGOs – ICOMOS and IUCN – have had a pronounced impact on the formal definition of outstanding universal value and on the increasingly rigorous procedures used to scientifically verify it. As permanent advisory bodies to the World Heritage Committee, ICOMOS and IUCN play a central role in the process of evaluating and inscribing nominated sites to the World Heritage List. In order to nominate a property for inclusion on the World Heritage List (after signing the World Heritage Convention) a country produces an inventory of its most important natural and cultural heritage sites, called a Tentative List. Once a site has been included on a Tentative List, a state party can submit a nomination file for its inscription on the World Heritage List. Then, the nominated property must undergo an independent inspection by either ICOMOS, in the case of cultural sites, or IUCN, in the case of natural sites.

The results of this inspection are documented in an official ‘advisory body evaluation’ that includes particular details about the site and expert comments on its eligibility for inclusion on the World Heritage List. These evaluations are a crucial part of this process and, historically, the World Heritage Committee follows the recommendations of the advisory bodies quite closely (Meskell, 2013). Once the World Heritage Committee receives the nomination file and advisory body evaluations, it renders one of four decisions for each nominated site: (1) inscribe (or accept) on the World Heritage List; (2) not inscribe (or reject); (3) refer back to the nominating party for additional information and resubmission to the appropriate advisory body and the World Heritage Committee; (4) defer back to the nominating party for a more substantial revision and resubmission (see World Heritage Centre, 2015).

Based on an analysis of over 800 advisory body evaluations produced by ICOMOS and IUCN from 1980 to 2010, we have elsewhere demonstrated that the evaluations have increased significantly in length and complexity over time (Schmutz & Elliott, unpublished; Schmutz & Elliott, 2016). This expansion of the evaluations was also accompanied by a greater reliance on scientific terminology in the assessment of nominated properties, particularly for cultural sites (see also Barthel-Bouchier, 2013). We argue that this process of scientific rationalisation, which became a routine feature of formal assessments of outstanding universal value, has helped perpetuate the geographic imbalance of world heritage sites despite consistent efforts by the World Heritage Committee since at least the early 1990s to address this disparity. As Kowalski (2011) has argued, a lack of scientific infrastructure can hamper a country’s ability to establish its cultural wealth through inscription on the World Heritage List. Likewise, Reyes (2014) finds that states with greater bureaucratic-administrative effectiveness (or ‘state capacity’) are more likely to nominate cultural sites and have them inscribed on the List.

From a world society perspective, the cultural authority of scientific standardisation at the global level can become decoupled from implementation efforts on the ground when states or regions lack the technical or scientific expertise to match the increasingly rigorous procedures established by professionals at UNESCO, ICOMOS and IUCN. At the same time, however, less developed countries are not disowned and left to fend for themselves. The regional imbalance of the World Heritage List is widely acknowledged as problematic and has prompted various efforts to mitigate it. Thus, as with other examples of decoupling in world society, processes of systemic maintenance are activated to bring local conditions and practices in line with global models and institutions. Next, focusing specifically on the case of African states parties to the World Heritage Convention, we describe various efforts at systemic maintenance to highlight the considerable decoupling that occurs due to a lack of technical and scientific expertise at the local level. Finally, we introduce the concept of cultural mismatch to describe another way that decoupling occurs when local understandings of cultural categories and criteria of evaluation are inconsistent with institutionalised understandings at the global level.

To study processes of systemic maintenance, we collected information about a range of efforts undertaken by IUCN, ICOMOS and UNESCO to assist in the nomination, management, preservation and assessment of African world heritage sites. We consulted a number of publications and gathered information about various UNESCO initiatives that specifically target tentative and inscribed heritage sites in Africa. For example, the World Heritage Outlook is published every three years by IUCN and provides a detailed assessment of each inscribed natural heritage site. We reviewed each assessment of natural heritage sites in Africa from the most recent edition and documented a variety of initiatives undertaken to respond to challenges that threaten the value of inscribed sites. We also documented other efforts aimed at the preparation of potential sites and preservation of inscribed sites in African states.

With regard to the concept of cultural mismatch, we draw on a data set that includes every inscribed world heritage site and includes information about the type of site (i.e. cultural, natural, mixed), the criteria under which it was inscribed, the country and region in which its located and so on. Using this data set, we report regional variations in the types of sites and the criteria under which sites are inscribed on the World Heritage List. The regions used in our analysis replicate the five geographical areas employed by UNESCO (Africa; Arab States; Asia and the Pacific; Europe and North America; Latin America and the Caribbean; see UNESCO Regions and countries, 2016). We also draw on the advisory body evaluations for all 24 African cultural sites that were recommended for inscription by ICOMOS between 1994 and 2015. In particular, we compare the criteria under which African states nominated each of those 24 sites and the criteria under which ICOMOS recommended inscription. For all sites in which any mismatch occurred between the nomination criteria from the state and the inscription criteria from ICOMOS, we read the reason that the advisory body disagreed with the criteria proposed by the state party. Thus, we draw on a range of information to identify evidence of systemic maintenance and of cultural mismatch and to assess their prevalence in the case of African world heritage sites.

In world society, if a particular nation-state is unable to put the proper policies into place, due to lack of resources, insufficient skill or stubborn resistance, the appropriate actors will spring into action and help out (Meyer et al., 1997). Contrary to rational-actor assumptions, this systemic maintenance often takes the form of ‘authoritative external support’ rather than ‘authoritarian imposition by dominant powers or interests’ (p. 159). Whether inter-governmental organisations (IGOs), NGOs, or professionals, these legitimated actors function like ‘rationalised others’ that promulgate the appropriate ideologies and offer technical assistance and expertise in implementing world-cultural models (p. 162). In the case of world heritage in Africa, experts associated with IUCN and UNESCO have devised a range of measures and initiatives to help with the lack of technical expertise required for both the nomination and management of African world heritage sites.

As shown above, African states parties struggle to participate in the world heritage movement – together, they have the second lowest number of sites on the World Heritage List and the most world heritage sites in danger. They particularly struggle to nominate cultural sites. These facts are supported by formal IUCN assessments, which are conducted every three years on every natural site on the List. The results are published in the World Heritage Outlook that ‘assesses a range of factors which together point to the future prospects for sites to retain their Outstanding Universal Value (OUV)’ (IUCN, 2014, p. 6). The last Outlook report in 2014 stated that Africa had 37 natural and 4 mixed world heritage sites in 24 countries. Of those 41 total sites, 13 were assessed as having ‘critical’ prospects for retaining OUV, 10 warranted ‘significant concern,’ 16 as ‘good with some concerns,’ and only 2 were assessed as having ‘good’ prospects. Overall, the most serious threat to these sites was identified as poaching, which affects over half of them (IUCN, 2014, p. 32). Not surprisingly, there were also serious concerns about the kind of legal frameworks and enforcement mechanisms in African countries to protect these sites as well as the effectiveness of management mechanisms, according to IUCN (p. 32).

Nonetheless, in addition to these independent assessments and its advisory role to the World Heritage Committee, IUCN is actively engaged in efforts to remedy this gloomy outlook. As a major environmental organisation with global reach, IUCN also advises states, government agencies, NGOs and local activists involved with natural heritage. In Eastern and Southern Africa, for example, IUCN employs approximately 1000 experts¹ who offer scientific, legal and policy advice on a wide range of issues, such as climate change risks in Uganda,² coastal ecosystems in Mozambique,³ and river basin management in South Africa.⁴ In an effort to empower local practitioners, recent efforts emphasise ‘building capacity’ through formal training sessions. For example, the World Heritage Nominations Training Programme for the Anglophone Region of Africa has organised training sessions in Lesotho (2008–2009), Namibia (2010–2011), and Uganda (2012–2013) with experts from IUCN as well as ICOMOS and the International Centre for the Study of the Preservation and Restoration of Cultural Property (ICCROM). The stated objectives of these sessions, which address specific deficiencies in expertise, are as follows: knowledge-transfer to develop successful nomination dossiers, mentorship, content and logistical support for the completion of dossiers, and provision of tools for developing robust management plans (ICCROM and IUCN, 2015, pp. 14–15).

For its part, as steward of the world heritage movement, UNESCO has presided over a variety of initiatives related to African world heritage. The World Heritage Fund, as mentioned above, provides economic assistance to states to protect their sites. From 1978 to 2015, over 44.5 million USD were granted for these purposes. During this time period, African countries made the most requests for international assistance, with the United Republic of Tanzania making the most individual requests (74) and receiving the largest sum of money for those requests (over 1.3 million USD).⁵ In addition, the African World Heritage Fund was launched in 2006 as the first regional funding initiative. It was established ‘with the objective of developing an ongoing strategy to deal with the challenges that most African countries have in implementing the World Heritage Convention.’⁶ This strategy, as noted in the mission statement, involves

In late 2015, UNESCO also proclaimed 5 May as African World Heritage Day to commemorate and increase international awareness of African heritage.⁸

Over the years, UNESCO and affiliate organisations have also provided ‘preparatory assistance,’ when requested by state officials, to aid in the inscription process of particular sites to the World Heritage List. For example, UNESCO and French experts provided technical and methodological assistance in 2000 and 2001 to prepare the nomination of the Historic Center of Agadez in Niger, which led to its inscription on Niger’s Tentative List in 2006 and its inscription on the World Heritage List in 2013.⁹ A similar arrangement provided technical assistance to Congolese authorities with the inscription process of the Royal Domain of Mbe cultural landscape in 2011–2013.¹⁰ Highlighting the increasing difficulty of site inscription, a technical mission under the support of France and UNESCO deemed that there was insufficient data to justify the outstanding universal value of the Ehotilé Islands National Park in Côte d’Ivoire; this site has remained on the Tentative List since 2006.¹¹ Likewise, a preparatory assistance mission in 2007 was sent to study the forest and the residential encampments of the Aka Pygmies of the Central African Republic, and conduct a workshop on the property’s OUV, but it also remains on the Tentative List as of 2006.¹²

While systemic maintenance has aimed to diminish the structural obstacles to a more balanced and representative World Heritage List, we argue that another way decoupling occurs is when local understandings of cultural categories and criteria of evaluation are inconsistent with institutionalised understandings at the global level, which we call cultural mismatch. From an institutional perspective, the formal organisation of any domain of social life involves establishing a system of classification that provides legitimate categories into which actors or objects can be sorted (Douglas, 1986). In the case of the World Heritage Convention, the first two articles establish the categories of heritage – both cultural and natural – that are eligible for inscription. For cultural sites, Article 1 defines three categories of heritage: monuments, groups of buildings and sites (UNESCO, 1972). Many observers have rightly noted that these categories favour tangible, built – especially architectural – forms of heritage, which aligns closely with cultural values of western civilisation (Tunbridge & Ashworth, 1996).

As a result, the World Heritage Committee broadened the categories, following a decision at the 15th Session of the World Heritage Committee (UNESCO, 1991), to revise the operational guidelines to include cultural landscapes as another form of heritage worthy of inscription. Since that time there has been a number of efforts to embrace a diversity of cultural heritage categories that are less focused on tangible built heritage. Another notable example is the Convention for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage (UNESCO, 2003), which followed related recommendations and proclamations in its explicit effort to recognise ‘masterpieces’ of cultural heritage that fell beyond the purview of the World Heritage Convention’s emphasis on tangible sites. Yet despite UNESCO’s efforts to recognise the value of diverse forms of cultural heritage, there remains considerable regional variation in the types of sites that are inscribed on the World Heritage List. As Table 2 illustrates, nearly four out of five sites (77.8%) inscribed on the World Heritage List are cultural. However, of the 89 sites inscribed from African states parties, only half (53.9%) are cultural sites, and Africa clearly lags behind all other regions.

Beyond establishing legitimate categories, institutions develop around the appropriate criteria by which actors and objects certify their belonging to a given category (Powell & DiMaggio, 1991). Categories and the criteria that define their boundaries are part of the ‘cognitive-cultural’ pillar of institutions that organise social life through shared understandings (Scott, 1998). Along with defining legitimate categories, much of the organisational work of the World Heritage Committee has centred on specifying the criteria by which the ‘outstanding universal value’ of cultural and natural heritage sites can be recognised. The inscription criteria were developed by the World Heritage Committee in an effort to provide some concrete details to the abstract concept of ‘outstanding universal value’ enshrined in the World Heritage Convention. Both scholarly and technical publications have addressed changes in the definition of outstanding universal over time (Jokilehto et al., 2008; Labadi, 2013), but at present, there is one set of ten inscription criteria – six are associated with cultural sites and four are associated with natural heritage sites. Despite persistent efforts at formalising the criteria, which are listed in Table 3, the cultural criteria are especially ambiguous and have been open to conflicting interpretations. Thus, Meskell (2013) indicates that the World Heritage Committee’s deliberations about cultural sites are less straightforward, more time-consuming and more controversial relative to deliberations about natural sites.

We argue that the ambiguity of cultural categories and the indeterminacy of the criteria of inscription heighten opportunities for cultural mismatch. By cultural mismatch, we refer to differences in how the criteria associated with the outstanding universal value of cultural heritage are interpreted and understood at the local level in contrast with the institutionalised interpretations and understandings at the global level. To illustrate this cultural mismatch, we focus on the six criteria by which cultural sites are inscribed on the World Heritage List. In the first place, cultural mismatch is evident in the regional variation in the prevalence of the six criteria under which cultural heritage sites are inscribed on the List. Thus, Table 4 shows the proportion of cultural sites that are inscribed under each of the six criteria by world region. Note that sites are typically inscribed under more than one criterion, so the percentages represent the proportion of total criteria by which sites in each region have been inscribed.

In addition to lagging behind all other regions in the number of cultural sites, Table 4 shows that African states have the smallest proportion of sites inscribed under Criterion 1, Criterion 2, and Criterion 4 and the highest proportion of sites inscribed under Criterion 3 and Criterion 6. While some of this difference is due to the types of sites African states nominate for inscription, we argue that cultural mismatch reinforces this disparity and contributes to the limited inclusion of African cultural sites on the World Heritage List. To illustrate our argument, we turn to advisory body evaluations of the African cultural sites that have been inscribed since 1994, when the Global Strategy for a Representative, Balanced and Credible World Heritage List was initiated. As mentioned previously, ICOMOS evaluates every cultural site nominated by a state party and makes a formal recommendation with regard to the criteria under which a site should (or should not) be inscribed. When states parties nominate a site, they indicate the criteria under which the site should be inscribed and provide a justification detailing how the site meets each proposed criterion. By comparing the nomination criteria proposed by the nominating state and the inscription criteria recommended by ICOMOS, we can observe instances of cultural mismatch between local and global interpretations of outstanding universal value.

From 1994 to 2015, ICOMOS recommended 24 cultural sites in African states for inscription.¹³ On 15 occasions (i.e. 62.5% of the time), there was some type of mismatch between the nomination criteria (proposed by the state party) and the inscription criteria (recommended by ICOMOS). Most of the time (12 out of 15 cases) this involved reducing one or more of the criteria under which the state party nominated the site. On two occasions, ICOMOS changed one or more of the criteria but maintained the same number of criteria overall and on one occasion ICOMOS added an inscription criterion to those proposed by the state party. In other words, even for nominated African sites that ICOMOS agreed should be inscribed on the World Heritage List, there was typically some mismatch between the way local actors interpreted the criteria relative to the way global actors assessed the value of a site. Below, we detail some specific examples of this cultural mismatch.

As shown in Table 4, African states have the lowest proportion of cultural sites inscribed under Criterion 4, which involves ‘an outstanding example of a type of building, architectural or technological ensemble or landscape’ that represents a significant stage or stages of human history (see Table 3). The urban ensemble of Cidade Velha in Cape Verde was nominated for Criterion 4 due, among other reasons, to its association with a ‘decisive stage in the history of transatlantic navigation and the colonization of new lands’. However, ICOMOS did not see this criterion as justified:

With regards to the Ruins of Loropéni in Burkina Faso, ICOMOS seemed to agree that the stone fortresses at the site, which are over 1000 years old, are an exceptional testimony of settlements associated with the early gold trade but ultimately concluded: ‘What has not been demonstrated however is how Loropéni can be linked to a significant stage in human history’ (ICOMOS, 2009b, p. 8). In total, six African sites had Criterion 4 either changed or removed in the process of going from nomination to inscription.

In several cases, ICOMOS indicated that there was not enough evidence to determine that a site had outstanding universal value under a given criterion. For example, the Stone Circles of Senegambia (jointly nominated by Senegal and Gambia) were inscribed on the basis of Criteria 1 and 3, but ICOMOS removed Criterion 4 because: ‘The stone circles could be an early manifestation of iron working, but more research would be needed to establish this and justify this criterion’ (ICOMOS, 2006a, p. 19). Similarly, the Kondoa Rock-Art Sites in Tanzania were not inscribed on the basis of Criterion 2, which requires ‘an important interchange of human values’ for the following reason: ‘There is not sufficient evidence to suggest that the Kondoa site was influential outside its area or absorbed influences from outside’ (ICOMOS, 2006b, p. 45). With regard to Le Morne Cultural Landscape in Mauritius, ICOMOS (2008, p. 4) writes that

Indeed, a lack of evidence, a need for more research, or shortcomings in the current state of knowledge was cited by ICOMOS in several additional evaluations. While this type of assessment is likely related to our previous claim about lack of scientific and technical expertise, it also reflects cultural mismatch with regard to what constitutes sufficient evidence of outstanding universal value.

A final pattern of cultural mismatch occurs when states parties nominate a site that does not conform to models that have become taken for granted exemplars of a particular criterion. Thus, there are multiple evaluations in which ICOMOS removes a nomination criterion because it diverges from how the standard has previously been interpreted and applied. With regard to the Osun-Osogbo Sacred Grove in Nigeria, for example, Criterion 5 is discredited with a brief statement: ‘This criterion, which usually is used for traditional settlement or land use, is not so relevant to this nomination’ (ICOMOS, 2005, p. 35). Although the inscription criterion itself is not limited to traditional settlement or land use, ICOMOS simply refers to how it has usually been applied in the past. Taken for granted models are especially important with respect to Criterion 1, which must ‘represent a masterpiece of human creative genius’. As shown in Table 4, Africa has the lowest proportion of sites inscribed on the basis of this criterion. ICOMOS did not see Koutammakou, the Land of the Batammariba, in Togo, as meeting Criterion 1 for the following reason:

We suggest that this represents a cultural mismatch in the way that creative genius is interpreted and understood at the local level – as a collective creation, in this case – in contrast to the exemplars at the global level, where creative genius refers to individual creations. With regard to Criterion 1, ICOMOS (2013, p. 67) determines that the Historic Centre of Agadez in Niger does not ‘attain the level of a unique masterpiece’, despite the fact that the height of the minaret and the use of mud brick evidence ‘considerable expertise’ and a ‘remarkable technical achievement’. Thus, cultural models of outstanding universal value in world society impose limits on efforts at the local level to expand the interpretation and meaning of institutionalised criteria.

While processes of global diffusion, expansion, and isomorphism have been the central foci of world society theory, it has always included provisions for explaining local variation (broadly speaking) via the concept of decoupling. Nonetheless, this has not been the primary emphasis of most scholarship in this area, which tends to present ‘the big picture’ with large-scale, statistical data. As a result, some critics have argued that greater emphasis needs to be placed on specific instances of decoupling (i.e. where and how it occurs). In part, we believe this criticism can be addressed with more concrete case studies that complement ‘the big picture’ and document where and how particular variations occur on the ground. We attempt to do that here, with an analysis of the world heritage movement that shows both how it has expanded into a global institution with common principles and standards, and how those principles and standards have become decoupled from national practice in certain parts of the world.

Specifically, through an historical account of this movement, we have detailed how it has established common assumptions about a global heritage (regarding both culture and nature), and developed into a vast institution with specialist organisations (such as UNESCO, IUCN and ICOMOS) and procedures for managing examples of outstanding universal value in various ways (such as the World Heritage Convention, World Heritage List and World Heritage Fund). We have also described, with reference to previous research, how procedures related to the formal evaluation of outstanding universal value have become highly formalised and standardised in recent decades, and how this provides a novel explanation for regional differences in the number of sites on the World Heritage List where developing countries dominate and less developed countries lag far behind. Moreover, through an analysis of various assistance efforts (or systemic maintenance) by IUCN and UNESCO in Africa, we identify how decoupling can occur when countries lack the scientific and technical expertise required to successfully complete the nomination process or effectively manage their world heritage sites. Thus, greater attention to systemic maintenance in world society scholarship can help foreground instances of decoupling and local variation that generate such efforts to produce isomorphic outcomes. In our case, isomorphism is pursued as various international organisations encourage and assist states in preparing, nominating, inscribing and managing heritage sites but also occurs as global principles and models of world heritage are adapted to incorporate local variations (e.g. adding cultural landscapes as a new category of heritage site). Future work in other domains of world society could likewise focus on the outcomes of systemic maintenance as it emerges in response to instances of decoupling.

Finally, through an analysis of ICOMOS’ advisory body evaluations of African cultural sites, we also identify how decoupling can occur when local conceptions of universal cultural value do not accord with the standardised, expert conceptions of ICOMOS, producing a kind of cultural mismatch. Even when states embrace the accepted principles of world heritage and obstacles like cost or technical expertise are overcome, variations in interpretation and application are still evident. In future research, we plan to examine patterns of cultural mismatch more systematically and consider a wider range of factors that may contribute to this type of decoupling. Such work could be extended to other prominent areas of world society scholarship such as educational or human rights expansion and implementation. In addition, future research in the world heritage arena could complement our study by conducting in-depth interviews with particular experts from UNESCO, IUCN, and/or ICOMOS as well as local site managers in Africa to obtain additional detail about particular instances of technical deficiency and cultural mismatch. Furthermore, one could extend our analyses to the Arab States, who also struggle to participate in the world heritage movement in broadly similar ways to Africa. However, this region has experienced particular forms of conflict and destruction that may have hampered their participation in different ways than Africa, highlighting other unique ways that decoupling may occur.