The Globalization of the Church History Department: The Plight of an Outsider Looking In (A Personal Reflection)

Abstract

Harare, Zimbabwe—May 7, 2000: It was a dark and rainy night in a city that was on the verge of violence. The economy of Zimbabwe was in shambles. It wouldn't have taken much to start a food riot in a country that was once a breadbasket in southern Africa. Land was being taken from white farmers, and those who resisted were being shot. The staff of the local British Airways office in Harare was being evacuated to Zambia. We saw people in the airport waiting area who were in shock or tears or both. However, in a quiet meetinghouse—far from the chaos and confusion that was engulfing Harare—two archivists from the Church History Department, Steven R. Sorensen and myself, were recording interviews with Zimbabwean members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.Five months earlier, on December 12, 1999, a momentous event occurred in Zimbabwe—the first stake in that country was organized. It is historically significant that the entire leadership of this new organization was made up of local Zimbabweans, one of whom would go on to become the first Zimbabwean general authority, Edward Dube. No longer were the North American expatriate missionaries leading the church in Zimbabwe.That cold and rainy night, I had the unique opportunity to interview Elsie Gondokondo, who had been called as one of the first ward Relief Society presidents. With Zimbabwe suffering from food shortages and in an economic crisis, this was an important opportunity to document how the Relief Society was functioning in a crisis and as history was unfolding. Elsie and her husband arrived at the appointed hour. We chatted for a moment while I set up my tape recorder and microphone. I explained who I was and what I would be doing during the interview. I asked if she had any questions. She had none. I felt like we were all relaxed and ready to go so I turned on the recorder and gave an introduction.Just as I was about to ask my first question, I noticed that Elsie was sweating profusely. She had stiffened. Her smile was gone. The friendly atmosphere we had experienced only thirty seconds before had changed to one of nervousness and anxiety. Something was wrong. And sure enough, despite my best efforts, the interview fell flat. I knew that I was somehow the cause of this. Towards the end of the interview, Elsie even apologized for her English, which broke my heart. But language was not the real issue. As soon as I turned off the recorder, she was all smiles again and we were back to being friends.I have pondered that experience for over twenty years. Why did that interview go awry? I've come to the conclusion that it was because of me. Despite the fact that I was doing my best to exercise “cultural humility,”2 I was the wrong everything. I was the wrong gender. I was the wrong color. I spoke the wrong language. I was wearing the wrong clothes—in my white shirt and tie I looked too much like some kind of authority figure. I was from the wrong economic class. In other words, I was the outsider looking in. I've had similar experiences in other African nations, in Central Asia, and in Eastern Europe. But none was more dramatic than this. In the past twenty years, the Church History Department has worked hard to correct this situation as we have decentralized and globalized our operations to avoid what I experienced in Zimbabwe.Historically speaking, the Church History Department's oral history program was the forerunner for the decentralization/globalization effort. Most of the department oral histories recorded between 1972 and 1989 were recorded in North America. A few staff members and other scholars who were being supported by our department ventured into Europe, Latin America, and the Pacific. Beyond these projects, however, no sustainable effort to record oral histories was developed outside of church headquarters. Mostly, department employees were recording interviews in English with white North Americans, which continued to be the case until 1989.3Shortly after the Berlin Wall fell in 1989, Jeff Anderson, a Church History Department coworker, and I went into the former German Democratic Republic (a.k.a. East Germany) and began recording interviews with church members who had lived behind the Iron Curtain. I also “stumbled onto” a large cache of East German branch records that were being stored on the Freiberg Temple grounds, which were shipped to the Church Archives in Salt Lake City.After that initial trip, a few of us began to systematically and strategically venture out into other nations, some of which had no tradition of keeping written records, so we relied heavily on oral history as it was perhaps the only way to document these people's manner of life, their faith, and their works. We were trying to record what it meant to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ, often seen as an American church, in such diverse places as West Africa, Asia, Latin America, and Eastern Europe. A few of the issues we documented were these: (1) how did first-generation converts to the church understand our theology and practices; (2) how appropriate were our standard (i.e., North American) activities and organizations—such as Boy Scouts, annual girls’ camps, Mutual, dramatic and sports activities, etc.—to these very different cultures; (3) how understandable and accessible was our translated church literature; and (4) how did local perceptions and practices of marriage, women's places in society, and community impact the way our church is established and received.In 2001, Michael Landon, another Church History Department coworker, and I were in Mongolia. He spoke Portuguese and I spoke German. We did our best using translators. We also interviewed every Mongolian Latter-day Saint who spoke English we could find in Ulaanbaatar and Darkhan. But we knew we were missing a lot of “the real story.” One night, as we were talking about how amazing it was to be in Mongolia—but also agonizing about our limitations—we began to discuss the possibility of hiring a local Mongolian church member, training him or her to record interviews, and providing a bit of money to travel across the country to document the beginnings of the church in each of the ten or eleven branches that existed at that time. We figured we could employ this person for a year and have him or her visit ten cities, all for what we had just paid in airfare to travel and stay in Mongolia for only a week. And best of all: he or she would be capturing the Latter-day Saint experience in Mongolian and from a Mongolian perspective. It was brilliant, and we were “a little overanxious as to time,” but it was also a bit ahead of its time. Our department was not yet ready for such global work. So, we continued to struggle with limited travel funds, jet lag, translators, sketchy food, and always being the outsiders looking in. And this continued until about 2009.In those early years, we learned a lot of hard lessons while traveling and we probably didn't record the best interviews. We also didn't do much to acquire records—other than the large collection of East German records I found at the Freiberg Temple. Loading up a suitcase with records was uncomfortable in more ways than one. Not only was the suitcase heavy, but I always had the sense that I could be violating cultural patrimony laws by taking historical documents out of a country. Nevertheless, we were self-aware enough to realize that we were on the right track when it came to documenting the church outside of North America. We were documenting local church history through the lives and experiences of local Latter-day Saints. However, we needed to do better. We set a firm foundation, and in doing so, we learned that we needed to engage local church members—insiders—in the work of documenting their own history. We needed to move from what I considered to be a “colonial” model to a commonwealth comprised of peers across the globe working in unity to document our church's history.As a historian focused on documenting the history of the church outside of North America for over thirty years, I've struggled with the “insider—outsider dilemma.” When I am with Latter-day Saints, I feel we are sharing a common religious perspective, but I am also fully aware that I am very distant from the reality of those I am trying to interview. This same feeling has also plagued my coworkers in the Church History Department. In the past decade, however, we've created a way of documenting church history that bridges the gaps that separate us and makes possible a powerful model for capturing the history of the church around the globe. In other words, we finally moved to the cutting edge of documenting a worldwide church.In 2009, under the inspired leadership of Church Historian and Recorder Elder Marlin K. Jensen, and with the approval of the First Presidency, the Church History Department decentralized and globalized its operations. With training and support provided by the department, local priesthood leaders began to call local Latter-day Saints to document their own history. We trained them how to record oral histories, how to appraise records in personal possession, how to work with local church unit clerks to improve the annual history, and how to document local historic sites. We suggested and continue to suggest focused projects that fill gaps in the church's collections. An example of a focused project is interviewing pioneers—members of the “greatest generation” in their nations whose histories are at risk as this generation ages and passes away. We are focusing on women's voices, which are underrepresented in our collection, and also on the implementation of some of the dramatic changes we've seen since Russell M. Nelson has become president of the church.For example, in Ghana we have six people called to serve as Church History Specialists. These six specialists can record interviews in English, Fante, Twi, Ga, and other local languages. They know what it is like to go to church in a beautiful meetinghouse with air conditioning—or at a minimum one that has functioning fans—and then to walk home in the heat of the afternoon along dusty dirt roads sometimes strewn with trash, and go to a humble abode, where the gospel is lived the rest of the week. Some of them also understand what it is to live, literally, hand to mouth, and to exercise enough faith to pay tithing at the same time. In other words, they are insiders documenting their people's history in their own languages and exercising sensitivity to issues that outsiders are not even aware of.We've had mixed results over the past decade of decentralization/globalization. Examples of some of the challenges we've faced and continue to face include the following:Technology—not everyone has access to a good internet connection and a computer, nor is everyone tech savvy enough to know how to successfully operate a digital recorder or how to transfer large electronic files.Training—some people, for a variety of reasons, have not been given proper or enough training, without which they flounder and get discouraged.Fit—in a few instances, people without a real passion for history have been called, and because they have good hearts, they accept these callings they have trouble magnifying.Isolation—most of our Church History Specialists serve alone and have no one close at hand to talk to about their calling, which sometimes leads to their getting discouraged.Obscurity—some local church leaders and members feel suspicious and reluctant to work with our Church History Specialists because the work of the Church History Department still suffers from being in a state of obscurity.Pandemics—Beginning in March 2020, we've had to shut down most field work while our Church History Specialists sheltered in place.I remember training a man who had been called to be the Church History Specialist in Kenya. I gave him a digital recorder and showed him how to use it. Over the course of the next two years, I heard nothing from him. If he had recorded any interviews, he had not submitted them. I wondered what was going on with him. On my return trip to Kenya, I met with him. He handed me his recorder and told me that it was broken, which is why he had not done any interviews. I looked at the machine and noticed that the hold button had been switched to the on position, which meant that the recorder was deactivated. I pushed the button to off and, within a split second, I showed him that the machine was in fine working order. We lost two years because either I forgot to warn him about the hold button, or he had forgotten that I said never to turn it on. I now always begin my training on how to use the recorder with this story, hoping newly called Church History Specialists will not touch the hold button.I had another painful learning experience in Ukraine, this one, however, a bit more positive. We were holding a training seminar for the Europe East Area Church History Specialists in Kyiv, Ukraine. Our Church History Specialists from all over eastern Europe were flying into Kyiv, and I was at the airport to meet them and make sure they got transport into the city where we were meeting. When the plane from Dnipropetrovsk arrived, we were at the gate with a sign looking to meet the newly called Church History Specialist for this part of Ukraine. Soon an older woman walked up and introduced herself as Sister X.4 My heart sank. Here was a woman who looked like the stereotypical babushka—head scarf, droopy socks, worn out coat, she spoke no English, etc. I thought, “This woman is never going to be able to do church history work.” When I later learned that she didn't even have a computer and had little to no exposure to technology, I thought my first impressions were correct. But I was wrong! This good babushka went out and got a computer. She learned how to use the recorder and to never push the hold button to the on position. She was fearless and productive. There are now twenty-four records in the church history catalog that she produced and submitted, twenty-three of which are interviews she recorded. She was one of the most productive Church History Specialists in the Europe East Area. Not only was the doctrine of “judge not” reinforced in a powerful way, but I also learned that a wide variety of people can be successful, and they all don't need to look or act like me. Despite these and other challenges, the global work of the Church History Department moves forward.Another part of the “unfolding miracle,” as Elder Jensen used to call it, is that we have hired and continue to hire local full-time employees to run Church History Department operations as multi-area managers. For example, one of our first full-time employees was Leon Holmes, a South African member of the church. When Leon was hired, he was responsible for the Africa Southeast Area in which he lived. He also had responsibility for the Africa West Area. Imagine being responsible for documenting the history of the church throughout all of sub-Saharan Africa.Leon was successful in running Church History Department operations in the two areas. He had, in fact, been prepared for this responsibility. Just prior to being hired, he served as president of the Ghana Kumasi Mission, so he was very familiar with West Africa. Unfortunately, Leon retired after only a couple of years, and shortly thereafter he and his wife were called as president and matron of the Durban South Africa Temple.Prior to having full-time employees, headquarters staff did their best to recruit full-time missionary couples who would serve as Area Church History Advisers. These senior couples spent a year and a half to two years running church history operations from various area offices. In some instances, local Latter-day Saints were called to serve as Area Church History Advisers, and they also served with distinction, often holding down full-time jobs while doing their best to be responsible for large areas.Hiring full-time employees has brought four important improvements to our decentralization/globalization efforts: (1) we do not have to constantly be engaged in retraining every year and a half, as we had to do with missionary couples; (2) the full-time employees begin to develop institutional memory; (3) they become a permanent presence and are able to form long-lasting relationships with local leaders and partners in area offices; and (4) they are insiders documenting the history of the church in their own areas.Despite all this progress, the quality and quantity of work we receive from the areas is uneven. We have yet to reach our full potential. However, I am not discouraged by these growing pains. Our senior couples, full-time employees, and volunteer “field staff” (i.e., people with area callings to serve in a Church History Department capacity) have all taught the Church History Department valuable lessons in running a global operation. Not only that, in some areas around the globe we have doubled and, in some cases, tripled the number of records and oral histories we've been able to collect and preserve. We could never replicate that from headquarters.Keeping records close to the people that are represented in the records is another cutting-edge issue that we have dealt with successfully through our decentralization efforts. An important part of the Church History Department's global acquisition effort has been the establishment of local records repositories called Records Preservation Centers (RPC). Many years ago, Richard E. Turley Jr., then managing director of the Church History Department, shared a vision he had of keeping records close to the people who have the greatest interest in the records’ content. That idea of having local repositories, together with the development of digital technology and our evolving decentralization efforts, has led to the establishment of an archipelago of RPCs in every area outside of North America. And some areas, for a variety of interesting, challenging, and unanticipated reasons (i.e., nationalism), have multiple Records Preservation Centers. These centers are closed to the public. The only way patrons can access records in the RPCs is through the Church History Library catalog. Upon request, these records can be digitized and made available to researchers across the globe according to department access policy. We also have a few Church History Centers that are open to the public and are staffed by senior missionaries or volunteers. Though we still do not have the “patron traffic” the department would like, these nascent satellite Church Archives teach the department how to better serve local audiences.5Thirty years ago, I was working in the reading room of the Church Archives, when an older man came to the desk and began to ask me about accessing records from South Africa. I could tell from his accent that he was South African, so I began to ask him about himself. Clive D. Nicholls said he had been a member most of his life and that he had felt compelled to keep records on how the church had grown and developed in South Africa. He began collecting church records when he noticed young missionaries taking piles of old record books out to the dumpster. He rescued that history, and then he began to scour the rest of South Africa for other at-risk records.My “acquisition guy” radar started going off loudly, so naturally I asked him what he planned to do with his records. Before he could answer, I proposed that he donate them to the church where they could be properly preserved. I was surprised by his reaction.He stated that he would never let his records be preserved in Salt Lake City. That made no sense to him. So, I pulled out the “microfilm card” and said that if the records were in the Church Archives, we could film the records (this was back before we digitized records) and the films could be sent to South Africa. That was not an acceptable option either. The South Africans, in his mind, needed to hold his books, see the documents he had collected, and turn the pages.The harder I pushed, the more he dug in his feet. He finally said that he would rather the records be buried with him than wind up in the archives in Salt Lake City. And since we at that time had no other options, I let it drop—but not really.I continued to correspond with him, and when I would travel to South Africa, I would try to arrange for a visit. In fact, once when I was in Johannesburg, Clive came down to see me and he had his records in the back of his car. We negotiated for hours and I even had the donation agreement filled out, but he refused to sign and donate his records. He took his records back home and I went home once again empty handed. Clive never budged from his thinking that the records would not leave South Africa.In 2012, I returned to South Africa. That is when I learned that Clive's health was failing. I went to Pretoria, close to where he was living, and I finally got to see his magnificent collection of ward and branch and country histories that he had been compiling for at least five decades.I mentioned that we now had a Church History Centre in Johannesburg at the area office near the temple. In fact, it was one floor below temple patron housing and just across from the “canteen” (cafeteria at the area office). When temple patrons were between sessions or waiting, they could come in and look at the records. If he were to donate his collection, he could rest assured that his records would stay in South Africa.Two years later, in early 2014, in a formal setting, with me back in Salt Lake City, Clive met with two members of the Africa Southeast Area Presidency and our Church History Department representatives and signed the donation agreement transferring ownership of his collection to the church. Shortly thereafter, Clive passed away.In the past decade, the Church History Department has shifted from a colonial model of headquarters staff doing all the work, then collecting and preserving the history of the church at a central repository, to a commonwealth paradigm of engaging local church members to document their own history, and finally—keeping the hardcopy records closer to the people.Many years ago, at the inaugural meeting of the Mormon Pacific Historical Society, Church Historian Leonard Arrington said: “As the Church becomes more international, it will become increasingly important to write the history of the Latter-day Saints in their homelands. By reconstructing these people's lives, we give their heirs a sense of their LDS heritage as well as provide real models for their own lives, models with whom they can identify.”6 We are only now beginning to fulfill that powerful statement. But I would also mention again that we are on the cutting edge of learning how to effectively document the worldwide church. It is an inspiring and unfolding miracle.