The debate over the indigenous versus the European roots of ‘African democracy’ has regained importance recently. Using the critical tools of cultural anthropology, the social and political thought of Julius K. Nyerere from Tanzania is examined for its African and European sources. The most recurrent themes in his writings are ‘traditional African values’ and the centrality of ‘the traditional African family’. They constitute the core element of Ujamaa. The aim of this article is to show that Nyerere’s statements on African socialism and on African democracy are not merely rhetorical devices employed by an aspiring politician. Nor are they the romantic appeal of a Westernised university graduate to a mythological or even ‘invented’ African past. Nyerere presented his own specific version of ‘traditional’ African values because he was socialised in a non-hierarchical ‘tribal’ society. He sought to synthesise these ‘traditional’ values with Western elements in order to create a Tanzanian identity that would cut across ethnic lines. In those cases when African and European value systems collided, however, Nyerere’s politics became problematic.

Bien qu'il ait commencé l'indépendence en tant que société profondément divisée après le trauma de Mau Mau, le Kenya a maintenu un des systèmes politiques ouverts en Afrique en dépit d'avoir officiellement un seul parti. Les élections nationales ont procuré un mécanisme par lequel du sang nouveau pourrait être incorporé au régime. Plus récemment des difficultés économiques grandissantes et l'insécurité du Président Moi ont fortement intensifié les tendances autoritaires. Les élections ont été de plus en plus truquées afin de supporter le groupe minoritaire d'où Moi tire son pouvoir. Comme partout ailleurs en Afrique le régime a cédé aux demandes en faveur d'une politique à partis multiples mais les premieres élections de ce genre ont produit une scène politique extrêmement fragmentée.

Le cas décrit, un mouvement anti-sorcellerie dirigé par deux prêtres catholiques, s'est produit au sein de la tribu des Lele dans la région du Kasaï (au Zaïre à cette époque) vers la fin des années 70 et le début des années 80. Ces informations ont été recueillies lors d'une brève visite en 1987. Ce cas d'acharnement contre la sorcellerie, localisé et de faible importance, s'inscrit dans un contexte plus large. Certaines nations soutiennent des institutions dont le but précis est de détecter, de neutraliser et de punir les malfaisants occultes comme les sorciers et les démons. La théologie occidentale ne répond pas actuellement aux questions qui rongent les Africains concernant les causes du mal dans le monde ou les causes des maladies et de la mort, questions auxquelles leurs traditions païennes répondent bien trop plausiblement en termes de sorcellerie. Certaines confessions chrétiennes ont défini leur doctrine à l'égard des démons de manière à concilier les croyances locales dans la sorcellerie. Partout où le sujet est à peine mentionnable, les Chrétiens africains ne peuvent pas contribuer au développement de la philosophic morale de l'Eglise chrétienne. Au cours de leur noviciat, les membres du clergé catholique africain ne peuvent recevoir aucun conseil particulier concernant les problèmes pastoraux pour lesquels la religion païenne a des réponses toutes faites.

Cet article commence par exposer la position des Maasai, leur territoire et l'organisation sociale à l'avènement de la période coloniale. Il documente l'érosion progressive du territoire et l'imposition de nouvelles frontières sur les Maasai depuis les années 1880 jusquʼau présent. Il utilise les études de l'auteur sur l'usage des terres Maasai à présent et sur le système de production sur les terres tanzaniennes des Maasai, ensemble avec des données comparatives sur les terres Maasai au Kenya, afin de montrer comment les communautés Maasai ont fait face à ces contraintes.

Des données sur la performance de l'élevage, la richesse des exploitations, la structure des fermes, et la situation diététique et alimentaire sont utilisées en tant quʼindicateurs écologiques des effets de la création des frontières. Cet article examine l'effet des réponses des communautés Maasai, soit celle qui à consisté à circonvenir les limites imposées, exploitant et dans certains cas attaquant les ressources que les frontières étaient désignées à protéger, ou celle qui a consisté à développer des stratégies afin d'incorporer et d'utiliser à bon effet les débouchés que les frontières peuvent présenter.

This story begins with Robin Horton's thoughtful and stimulating article ‘African conversion’, published in Africa in 1971. My own ‘Conversion reconsidered’ followed in 1973. This was in part a response to Horton, though concentrating upon Islamic conversion, which had been only a supporting feature in Horton's chiefly Christianity-based argument. I also explored a little the possibilities for Muslim/Christian comparison in black Africa, a fruitful and promising field which has not figured prominently in the subsequent discussion, but to which I return briefly towards the end of the present article. Horton's own rely (‘On the rationality of conversion’, in 1975) being essentially rather acid in tone, it seemed best at the time to let the matter rest, which I did.

This article primarily concerns the intersection of the changing management of death with the problems and possibilities presented by the growing mobility of the African, and specifically Xhosa-speaking, population in South Africa from the latter half of the twentieth century to the present day. I am interested in how shifts in the practices and beliefs around death are mediated by individuals, households and businesses who have an historical affinity towards movement, particularly across what has been called the ‘rural–urban nexus’. In what ways has this more mobile orientation influenced the perception of rites and responsibilities surrounding death? And how have more mobile ‘ways of dying’ in turn created new subjectivities and new ways in which to imagine relations between the living and the dead? I argue that African funeral directors based in Cape Town and the rural areas of the Eastern Cape – a steadily more numerous and prominent group of entrepreneurs – are well-placed to shape these processes, through their role as cultural mediators and technological innovators, and their particular emphasis on maintaining a flow of bodies (both dead and alive) between rural and urban areas. I focus on two aspects of contemporary South African funerals – embalming and exhumations – that are suggestive of how the migration dynamic, and the continuing demands from mobile mourners for innovations via the funeral industry, have encouraged new perceptions of and relations to the dead body.

The aim of the essay is to highlight gaps in existing knowledge of African women and bring to light new queries. The argument being presented is that African women assert their individuality by exploring the options available within their respective societies. While it is unsafe to generalize about Africa, the dominance of men in the public, especially the political and ritual spheres, is well illustrated by ethnographies on Africa. Women are on the whole invisible or shadowy figures except in a handful of ethnographies that take a woman's perspective (for example, Leith-Ross, 1939; Kaberry, 1952; and Paulme (ed.), 1963). The ideology of male dominance is taken for granted as representative of the true state of affairs between men and women in Africa. Whereas every researcher probably knows that ideologies are not realities, somehow that knowledge becomes insignificant when dealing with African societies.

Zimbabwe has adopted the name of the Shona state, centred on the city of Great Zimbabwe, which flourished between five and eight hundred years ago, and whose ruined stone walls are one of the most remarkable monuments in Africa. Great Zimbabwe was a considerable human achievement, evidence of the acquisition and management of a huge and docile labour force, of prolonged political stability and economic prosperity.

When the British South Africa Company occupied the country in 1890 the monument became the subject of considerable settler polemic and controversy. While its origins were still uncertain Cecil Rhodes recognized the considerable propaganda value that evidence of ancient foreign settlement, preferably white and successful and with Biblical origins, would have. It would give a precedent and respectability to the conquest and a promise of similar prosperity to the settlers and investors in the new colony. Rhodes acquired many antiquities from Great Zimbabwe, and initiated excavations at the site and searches of the archives of Rome and Lisbon for documents referring to it. He himself sought parallels to its art in the museums of Cairo. He also commissioned eminent mining engineers to determine the origins and yield of the ‘ancient gold workings’ in the country. Finally, he had Richard Hall, an enthusiastic propagandist of the settler cause in newspapers, lectures and exhibitions, and a fanatical advocate of immensely old Biblical origins for Great Zimbabwe, appointed curator of the Ruins expressly to instruct important visitors in his theories.

Widespread assumptions about the extractive and self-serving nature of African elites have resulted in the relative neglect of questions concerning their personal ethics and morality. Using life-history interviews undertaken with a range of Ghanaian development workers, this article explores some of the different personal aspirations, ideologies and beliefs that such narratives express. The self-identification of many of those interviewed as ‘activists’ is examined in terms of the related concepts of ‘ideology’, ‘commitment’ and ‘sacrifice’. Much recent work within history and anthropology uses the ‘life-history’ as a way of introducing ‘agency’ that is purported to be missing in accounts focusing on larger social abstractions. Yet it is the very opposition between abstractions such as ‘history’ and ‘society’ and their own more ‘personal’ lives that such narratives themselves enact. The article thus interrogates the various ways in which development workers variously imagine their lives in relation to broader social and historical processes.

Cette étude s'efforce de trouver des variables dans la littérature économique et antropologique sur le pastoralisme qui peut être utilisé afin d'obtenir une vue d'ensemble sur les stratégies d'élevage bovin en Afrique de l'ouest et leur type d'intégration dans un marché régional plus large, dans lequel les différentiations écologiques jouent un role important. Cet article concerne surtout les implications de cette intégration économique pour l'analyse des stratégies d'élevage et il essaie d'identifier les variables que les guardiens de troupeaux bovins manipulent afin de réaliser leurs objectifs en ce qui concerne la gestion des troupeaux et une adaptation à des contraintes particulières et des débouchés sur le marché.

II met le point sur le degré auquel les structures d'élevage reflètent les pratiques de la gestion des troupeaux et l'intégration dans les marchés. Ceci est une variable importante et pas aussi abstraite quʼelle ne semble, puisque l'image originale qui décrit les pastoralistes comme étant autonome et se souciant plus du bétail en vue d'une abondance sociale que d'une efficacité économique, a été crée par les observations d'un grand nombre de taureaux en Afrique.

In post-colonial Namibia public memory of the liberation war prioritizes the armed struggle from exile. This master narrative of national liberation, having become the new nation's foundation myth, legitimizes the power of the post-colonial SWAPO elite as the sole, heroic liberators from apartheid and colonialism. It has not remained uncontested, however. The article develops the complex transfigurations of liberation war memory, culture and nationalism in post-colonial Namibia around a discussion of two memory sites. The National Heroes’ Acre near Windhoek, inaugurated in 2002, appears as the cast-in-stone nationalist master narrative, aimed at homogenizing the multi-faceted agencies during the liberation war, whereas the Heroes’ Memorial Shrine at Eenhana, constructed in 2007, expressly recognizes the heterogeneity of war-time experiences. The Eenhana site further gives visual expression to recent Namibian unity-in-diversity discourses, which have followed, and partly been running alongside, a period of ideational emphasis on nation building, based on a national culture supposedly forged through the nation's joint struggle against oppression and colonialism. I argue that the social processes of remembering and forgetting political resistance, on the one hand, and those of cultural reinvention in the new nation on the other, are entangled, and that both registers of imagining the Namibian nation have shifted since the country's independence in 1990.

In the aftermath of social conflicts and urban violence between autochthons and migrants in Italy in recent years, the question of how to control the growing number of illegal immigrants is increasingly discussed in the language of zero-tolerance anti-crime campaigns. Traffic in women has been a ‘structural’ social reality in the Italian migration landscape over the last 15 years, and is a prominent aspect of illegal female migration. These women are qualified as ‘victims of human trafficking’ when they denounce their pimps. Most of their suffering – involving psychological or psychiatric symptoms and requiring psychosocial support – is expressed through an emic vocabulary that talks about fetishes, spirit possession, witchcraft, sacrifice, debts, and spiritual and moral deliverance. This study – based on extensive field research in Turin into an Ethno-Psychiatric Service (provided by the Frantz Fanon Centre) in which 50 Nigerian women participated – addresses the following anthropological issues: the relationship between emic vocabulary (so called ‘voodoo’ or ‘juju’), migration, and moral economies of violence; and the intersection between symbolic violence and coercion, as experienced through sexual abuse and/or ritual violence (occurring both in Nigeria and Italy, and also during the migration itself in different countries such as Benin, Mali and Libya). In the conclusion of this article, I underline the limits of psychiatric and psychological therapeutical methods vis-à-vis the symptoms and traumatic experiences that ‘mark’ these female bodies; and I discuss in particular the emergence of new forms of post-colonial disorders affecting subjects who are at the mercy of compromised desires.

The Yoruba Ogboni cult has been referred to as a typical ‘secret society’ for over fifty years, yet it has never been described in any detail, or analysed in accurate general terms. Frobenius discovered its controlling importance in Yoruba religious organization in 1910 and promptly became initiated into the Ibadan Ogboni, but only to get information from the priests of other Yoruba cults. He made no attempt to study the beliefs of Ogboni members, whom he dismissed as ‘mystery-mongering greybeards’. Two anthropologists have been initiated into the cult in the course of the last twenty-five years, but have declared themselves bound by its oath of secrecy, and so have published nothing about it.

Recent publications on the rock art of Africa have again focused attention on the tremendous wealth of painted and engraved sites in that continent (Brentjes, 1969; Cooke, 1969; Lee and Woodhouse, 1970; Rudner, 1970). At the same time, however, it is made all too clear that the collection of data is largely unsystematic and subjective and, because of the incomplete nature of the evidence, valid analysis or comparison is difficult. Small wonder, then, that there is such a diversity of often conflicting views on the significance of the art (Vinnicombe, 1972).

Oral accounts of the past play an important role in the construction of cultural memories as they are reconstructed in dynamic social contexts. Based primarily on participant observation in a peri-urban village in Dar es Salaam, and life-history interviews with twenty-five elderly residents, this article focuses on reminiscing and cultural understandings of neo-liberal policies in Tanzania's post-socialist context. The article examines how people use narratives to understand and to give meaning to their individual experiences in the context of broader socio-cultural, economic and political changes. Narrators' oral life-histories and illness narratives reveal the ways in which the transition from Tanzania's unique form of socialism (Ujamaa) to Western-style neo-liberalism has led to the erosion of social cohesion at the community level, disrupted existing social support networks and limited access to healthcare. Participant observation and analysis of discursive data draw attention to the fact that the expression ‘This is not our culture!’ and its attendant sentiment ‘Life is hard!’ have become formulaic pronouncements, especially among poor and socially excluded people. These expressions indicate a loss of community values, and a decrease in respect and deference towards the elderly in the post-socialist era that is inextricably bound up with the hardships engendered by neo-liberal economic policies.

One of the most obvious social situations in the middle Benue Valley is the expansion in all directions of the Tiv, who number some 800,000 and are the largest pagan tribe in Northern Nigeria. One of the most puzzling aspects of Tiv expansion has been that, although it is obviously connected in many areas with land shortage and accompanying economic factors, it is precisely in those areas in which land shortage is least severe that the rate of migration appears to be most rapid.

Centrifugal expansion is intimately associated with the social and political structure of the Tiv people—is, in fact, a facet of it. In order to analyse this association, and incidentally to explain the paradox of the rate of expansion, it is necessary to divide the movement into two sorts: expansion and disjunction. Expansion refers to that type of movement which leads to the enlargement in area of a lineage's territory. It may eventually lead to a change in geographical location of the lineage territory; it does not affect the over-all juxtaposition of lineage areas. Disjunction, on the other hand, characteristically brings about a separation of groups in space and affects not only the geographical position of a lineage territory, but also the juxtaposition of lineage territories.

The first section of this article will set forth briefly the relationship between movements of lineages, territorial organization, and the structure of political lineages. The second section will examine expansion; the third, disjunction. The fourth will show that the two types of migration are both present in all parts of the country, and that it is the primacy of one or the other which gives rise to an apparent difference in rate of migration.

On 14 October 1999, Julius Kambarage Nyerere, the first president of the United Republic of Tanzania, died in a London hospital. In Tanzania, musical bands throughout the country reacted to the news by composing scores of lamentation songs (nyimbo za maombolezo) that mourned his passing and assessed his contributions to the country he helped to create. While elsewhere in the world Nyerere is affiliated with the ‘African socialist’ platform termed Ujamaa that he theorized in his political writings and instituted during his tenure as president, these lamentation songs are notably silent on the topic of socialism. This silence indicates the ambiguity with which Tanzanians today relate to their socialist past. As a necessary prelude to analysis of the nyimbo za maombolezo, this article explores the practices, policies and values promoted in Tanzanian socialisms (mainland and Zanzibar) and in the postsocialist present. Competing rhetorics are revealed in these musical constructions of the ‘Father of the Nation’ and, by extension, the Tanzanian nation itself.

The collective violence in rural areas of southern and central Plateau State between June 2002 and May 2004 was accompanied by widespread social mobilization and heightened ethnic and religious divisions. Vigilantes adapted to the new insecurity and were important local actors in the crisis, but became polarized along religious lines. Their emphasis shifted from vigilance against theft within villages to vigilance against the more serious threats posed by armed militias. The intersection of vigilantes and militias was situational; where there was less violence vigilantes were more prominent, but elsewhere their functions merged. Social action and the patterns of violence were shaped by power relations between identity groups and the struggle for territory. The notion of indigeneity continues to be used by all sides to make territorial claims, and historical narratives of belonging and grievance are actively put forward to bolster political legitimacy. The violence was also strongly defined by religion – the political dominance of Muslims, especially in Wase, generating particular animosity. Religious and cultural beliefs were also expressed by vigilantes and militias themselves, and, while not a direct cause of violence, supernatural beliefs did affect forms of mobilization and decision making.

The article addresses African and Indian newspaper networks in Kenya in the late 1940s in an Indian Ocean perspective. Newspapers were important parts of a printing culture that was sustained by Indian and African nationalist politics and economic enterprise. In this period new intermediary groups of African and Indian entrepreneurs, activists and publicists, collaborating around newspaper production, captured fairly large and significant non-European audiences (some papers had print runs of around ten thousand) and engaged them in new ways, incorporating their aspirations, writings and points of view in newspapers. They depended on voluntary and political associations and anti-colonial struggles in Kenya and on links to nationalists in India and the passive resistance movement in South Africa. They sidestepped the European-dominated print culture and created an anti-colonial counter-voice. Editors insisted on the right to write freely and be heard, and traditions of freedom of speech put a brake on censorship. Furthermore, the shifting networks of financial, editorial and journalistic collaboration, and the newspapers’ language choice – African vernaculars, Gujarati, Swahili and English – made intervention difficult for the authorities. With time, the politics and ideologies sustaining the newspapers pulled in different directions, with African nationalism gaining the upper hand among the forces that shaped the future independent Kenyan nation.