In accordance with the secret Treaty of London of 26 April 1915, Italy entered the First World War in exchange for certain promises made to her by Great Britain and France. The treaty provided for concessions to Italy in Europe, the Mediterranean, Asia Minor, and Africa, but the concessions to which Great Britain and France agreed were not regarded by the Italians as the limit of their demands.

This article considers the Atlantic slave trade in relation to ‘extraversion’ in African history. Drawing especially on the work of Jean-François Bayart, it argues that slaving fit a long-term pattern in which elites drew on external connections in order to further their wealth and power at home. In doing so, they also opened their societies to new goods and ideas, thus bringing about cultural creolization. This is a different approach to the question of creolization than is commonly found among Americanist studies of Atlantic slavery, which tend to treat cultural change without consideration of politics. The concept of extraversion thus helps to link culture and political economy. Nevertheless, it also bears refinement. Recent scholarship on African involvement in the Atlantic slave trade – some of it detailed in this article – makes clear that extraversion may have reflected African agency, as Bayart insisted, but that it also entangled African societies in destructive relationships of dependency.

Historical writing on the coloured community of South Africa has tended to accept coloured identity as given and to portray it as fixed. The failure to take cognizance of the fluidity of coloured self-definition and the ambiguities inherent to the process has resulted in South African historiography presenting an over-simplified image of the phenomenon. The problem stems partly from an almost exclusive focus on coloured protest politics which has had the effect of exaggerating the resistance of coloureds to white supremacism and largely ignoring their accommodation with the South African racial system. Furthermore, little consideration has been given to the role that coloured people themselves have played in the making of their own identity or to the manner in which this process of self-definition shaped political consciousness. This is particularly true of analyses of the period following the inauguration of the Union of South Africa in 1910, a time when the legitimacy of coloured identity was not in any way questioned within the coloured community and when coloured protest politics was dominated by one body, the African Political Organization (APO).

The Meru are a people who live on and adjoining the N.E. slope of Mt. Kenya. Their oral traditions, collected from the oldest living members, suggest that the group originated on Manda Island, part of an archipelago off the Kenya Coast. During the early 1700s their ancestors were conquered by a neighbouring people, probably Arabs from one of the nearby trading principalities. In consequence, the Meru chose to flee.

Existing evidence suggests that their subsequent period of migration lasted approximately thirty years. During the initial stage, they crossed the River Tana, somewhere near its mouth, then followed its southern bank inland. Later, the group left the river and moved northwest through a basically arid region, where water was obtainable only from seasonal rivers or swamps. Initially, the migrants moved northward, crossing these wet areas. Subsequently, when changing ecological conditions forced them westwards, they followed one of the seasonal river systems to the foothills of Mt. Kenya.

Available data provides little to link the Meru experience with other migratory trends. There is no evidence, for instance, to connect it either with the Bantu migrations from Shungwaya (S. Somalia) or that of Kikuyu-speaking peoples towards Mt. Kenya. Further research will be required to resolve the problem.

The role of the ‘Lower Zambezi complex’ which developed out of Portuguese and African interaction is examined in the light of recent research in the Gwembe valley, an area of the Middle Zambezi on the far periphery of Portuguese penetration from the east coast. The origins of Lower Zambezi contacts with the peoples of southern Zambia are traced to the late seventeenth century and their development and expansion are examined, on the basis of oral tradition and written sources, through the reopening of Zumbo in 1862, the defeat of the Ndebele at the Kafue confluence around 1870 and the consequent establishment of permanent trading posts in the Gwembe, down to the late 1880s when the increasingly disruptive activities of the Chikunda and their muzungu leaders led to general and successful resistance against them in the form of an armed rising. The effects of the ‘Lower Zambezi complex’ are related to the development of political authority and the introduction of technical and cultural innovations in the Gwembe. Chikunda and muzungu activities are shown to have differed in their effects between the Gwembe and their much better-known and more destructive penetration of the Luangwa valley in the 1880s, partly because of the decentralized nature of Gwembe society.

The centres of early Western education in West Africa, from whom came the junior staff of the Europeans in the early and middle colonial periods, included Douala, whose people provided most of such staff in German Kamerun and then in French Mandated Cameroun. The development of these coastal elites, insufficiently studied generally, has a particular historical interest in Douala because of the change of colonial regime.

The influences of Christianity and German education on the Dualas was extensive by 1914. Duala clerks, however, adapted readily to work under French rule. The Dualas generally profited as owners of urban land and of cash crop plantations under the French, until the 1930s, as under the Germans.

Continual anti-colonial protests were made under both regimes. But those against the French were attributed to the German culture or pro-German feelings of the protest leaders, or even active German intrigue among them. In fact former staff of the Germans who lived in the French period off plantation and other self-employment income were the hard core of protest leaders behind such acts as the 1929 self-government petition. Notable among them was Ferdinand Edinguele Meetom. But other ‘Germanophones’ were loyal to the French and helped to form their indispensable clerical staff. Generally, they continued to develop on the same lines under both regimes, with little change.

This article explores the relationship between slave emancipation and the spread of Islam in early colonial French Buguni (southern Mali). It examines the reconstitution of village communities in the wake of violence and enslavement during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and documents the ways in which widespread mobility and trans-local social processes fostered the emergence of new forms of religious identification and practice. It demonstrates that many of the region's first Muslims were returning slaves whose conversion was a cultural consequence of slavery. Oral accounts of village histories of Islam are used in reconstructing a history that has left few traces in the archival record.

Although Southern Rhodesia's settler minority won responsible government from Britain in 1923, it was on terms circumscribed by the interests of metropolitan accumulation. As the dependent partner, Southern Rhodesia was obliged to accept constitutional provisions seeking to guard against initiatives which might disturb that process. Consequently, the settler state found itself hamstrung when it tried to gain some say over how the railway system operated. It was even less successful when it turned its attention to base mineral mining, where a handful of large companies did pretty much as they pleased. Efforts to find overseas markets for cattle and tobacco were also unsatisfactory. Neither the state nor settler producers could obtain the terms they wanted. Accumulation proceeded on terrain designed and dominated by imperialism.

The attempt to introduce an element of Indirect Rule into Northern Rhodesia after 1930 highlighted the extent to which the prestige and local influence of chiefs had been reduced by the loss of political and economic power and religious control. In Bembaland the evangelical work of the White Fathers, who were established in the centre of the area from 1898, contributed to the decline of the chiefs' spiritual authority. The principal mission station of the area was separated from the local Bemba chiefdom of Ituna by a grant of concession from the British South Africa Company, and up to 1914 the religious superior was given the powers of a native chief over the inhabitants of the mission. Within the concession, the economic, political and religious association between villagers and missionaries paralleled the network of relationships which had existed in the chief's capital village. In other missions in Bembaland, chiefs were obliged to admit the establishment of mission stations as a result of a Company policy of granting zones of influence with rights of evangelization to individual missionary societies. The influence of these missions was propagated mainly through the work of itinerant catechists who entered into dialogue with village headmen and established a chain of prayer houses and regular instruction throughout the woodland communities. Attempts at resistance by both chiefs and headmen were largely ineffectual, and by 1930 the White Fathers had, with government approval, achieved considerable influence in Bembaland. During the next decade, this influence was to diminish as colonial policies brought about political and social changes in which the mission had only an ancillary part to play.

This article offers a translation of M. C. Adeyẹmi's book, A History of Old and New Ọyọ, completed in Yoruba in 1914. The original text comprises 32 pages, divided into ten short chapters, six of which treat the history of Ọyọ from the origins to 1914. The remaining four chapters examine cultural and political institutions. The translation retains the flavour of the original text which stems from a tradition of Yoruba oral historiography. M. C. Adeyẹmi was trained by the C.M.S., and had a Bachelor of Arts degree in education at Fourah Bay College, Sierra Leone. Between 1911 and 1942, he combined the functions of educationalist and missionary. His short book, which refers to no published or unpublished written work, is based on Ọyọ oral traditions describing the major developments in the political history of Ọyọ. The author did not moralise on wars and the collapse of the Ọyọ empire, nor did he use the book as a means of propagating Ọyọ hegemony in Yorubaland.

The book is significant in many ways: it is a representative example of Ọyọ traditions as they existed at the beginning of this century; it complements Johnson's The History of the Yorubas where both describe the same event; it is very useful for understanding how ‘traditional’ historians study society; and it provides new information on Ọyọ in the nineteenth century and on some cultural features of the Yoruba.

This paper examines the way in which Greater Asante was ‘mentally mapped’, thereby enabling government to regulate the movement of couriers, and others, along the great-roads. Lacking clocks, speed was reckoned anthropometrically, by reference to dɔn: rhythmic walking at a normal pace. Computing this against the determinate parts of the day, from dawn to dusk, on which travel (as opposed to eating and resting) was customary, it became possible to estimate the location of a courier at a given point in time. Greater Asante was ‘mapped’ as a circle, the diameter of which was the Asante month of forty-two days (of travel). The circle embraced the most distant of the territories over which the Asantehene claimed authority; these were in fact more or less twenty days from the capital. That it also embraced, in the south, lands under the sea, was of no practical relevance. Superimposing the reckoning of travel times on the matrix of the forty-two days ‘imperium’, the Asante government was able to establish a (‘Monday’) timetable for the conduct of business. The record shows that it worked remarkably well. An understanding of ‘traditional’ practices and procedures has much importance for the understanding of ‘modern’ ones: the past is encapsulated in the present.

This article attempts to investigate the role of women in rural society in Morocco, and by extension in the Muslim world of the Near and Middle East. It does so by examining the evidence thrown up by a major crisis, the Rif war of the 1920s. The mobilization and organization of tribal society by Muhammad bin ‘Abd al-Karī;m (Abdelkrim) to fight the war against the Spanish and the French extended to women as well as men, involving them in new tasks under new laws. In the end, however, the evidence points not so much to a revolution in women's lives as to the activation for the purposes of war of a traditional ‘female space’. In so doing, it points to the real importance of the women's sphere in a society which was sexually strongly segregated, confirming the impression derived from studies of more literate, urban and aristocratic Muslim societies of North Africa and the Middle East.

Asaba is an Ibo town, which, because of its position on the Niger, came into relatively early contact with Europeans. This means that we have materials for its history in European records for more than a hundred years. This article is based on these records, and on present-day oral traditions. It begins with an account of Asaba's traditional social and political structure, and its former role in the economic life of the lower Niger.

Asaba traditions relate in detail how the town was founded by a man from Nteje, east of the Niger, called Nnebisi. There is less information about its subsequent history, though it seems that it went through a significant changefrom the rule of a single Eze to a system of personal titles, like that found in eastern Iboland. Some attempts have been made to make a king list for Asaba, but it does not seem possible to establish either this or any other useful chronological framework other than that provided by family genealogies. These suggest that Nnebisi lived in the seventeenth century. The main theme in Asaba's external history is her changing relationship with her powerful neighbour, Benin.

The choice of Onitsha, rather than Asaba, as a missionary and trading centre, meant that Asaba went through a period of relative eclipse. The first C.M.S. missionaries came to the town in 1875, but they had little impact on Asaba life. In the middle eighties, Asaba became the administrative capital of the newlyestablished Royal Niger Company. The impact of the Company on Asaba, though great, was short-lived. But one result of its choice of Asaba as a capital was the renewal of missionary endeavour, both Catholic and Protestant, in the town. This in its turn was to have a very great impact on Asaba's way of life.

It is still assumed today that Sheikh Mohammad Abdille Hassan's rebellion between 1899 and 1920 in British Somaliland only made an impact in northern and central Somalia. In fact, however, the rebellion also influenced both the southernmost Somali and the administration of the Jubaland Province of the East Africa Protectorate. Anticipation that the rebellion would spread southwards, though unwarranted, led nevertheless to exaggerated fears and ultimately deterred further British involvement in that part of the Protectorate. These fears were not wholly unjustified, for the Jubaland Somali were inspired by Sheikh Mohammad's defiance of alien authority and probably wished to emulate him where possible. Furthermore, there was increasing contact between Mohammad Abdille Hassan's agents and the Juba region. However, it was the actual migration towards the Juba of Marehan who had fought with Sheikh Mohammad that had the most important impact on that area. Sheikh Mohammad's jihads also encouraged other Somali sections to migrate southwards. These migrations were largely responsible for the growing instability south of the Juba. They led to a large increase in the number of guns available and also encouraged inter-tribal fighting. Essentially Sheikh Mohammad's influence was political rather than religious. This distinction becomes clearer on examination of the spread of the Salihiyya tariqa as compared to those areas which were involved in political unrest.

The fourth radiocarbon list contains many new and important dates. Only isolated readings are still available from West Africa, but some later Iron Age sites have recently been dated. The first samples for the Kenya Highlands date food production in that region to the first millennium b.c., while important dates from Uganda confirm the traditional datings of Bigo and Bweyerore. Samples from Kilwa on the Tanzanian coast are somewhat at variance with other dating evidence.

Dates for the Angola Iron Age range between a.d. 760 and the fifteenth century, while the Leopard's Kopje industry of Rhodesia has been dated for the first time.

The list is completed with many isolated dates from all parts of the subcontinent.

A drastic decline of aboriginal populations has been an important by-product of European commercial and imperial expansion in many parts of the world. Europeans have been aware of this phenomenon from the early days of Spanish exploration and conquest when Fray Bartolome de las Casas deplored the rapid collapse of Indian populations in the Caribbean. The problem still seemed acute in the nineteenth century. For example, the young Charles Darwin, describing the decline of the Australian Aborigines, placed most of the blame on alcoholism, introduced diseases, and the loss of hunting grounds. But these factors did not fully explain what appeared to be the impending extinction of a variety of peoples. ‘Besides these several evident causes of destruction,’ he wrote,

there appears to be some more mysterious agency at work. Wherever the European has trod, death seems to pursue the aboriginal. We may look to the wide extent of the Americas, Polynesia, the Cape of Good Hope, and Australia, and we find the same result.

The standard history of the German period in Tanzania has been seriously marred by imperial rivalries and excessive concentration on metropolitan aspects of German policy-making. In the period to 1907, which has heretofore been written off as a time of punitive expeditions and absence of administrative direction, the government in fact developed a secular state education service. The standard curriculum generated by the state was later adopted by missionary schools. The policy was controversial, and the strength of the administration's relatively pro-African position may be explained by the continuity of personnel, by the popularity of the secular schools, and by pessimism among officials as to whether white settlers could make an economic contribution commensurate with their political claims.

The historical role of European farming in Southern and Central Africa has received a great deal of attention among scholars over the years. A striking consensus exists in the Scholarly literature, namely that the success or failure of European farming in Southern Africa was to a large extent dependent upon the colonizers' access to and control over cheap labour, which they in turn could only access through strong support of the colonial state. Yet, these propositions have so far not been systematically and empirically tested. This article is a first attempt to do that by analysing the ‘wage-burden’ European settler farmers faced. The wage-burden is identified by measuring wage shares (total amount paid in the form of wages as a share of total profits) on European farms in colonial Africa. Based on archival documents, we construct time-series for value of output, transportation costs, investments in agriculture, and wages paid for the European tobacco and tea sector in colonial Malawi. Our results contradict both previous research on settler colonialism in Africa and the historiography of Nyasaland. Our estimates show that settler farming did not collapse in the 1930s as commonly assumed. On the contrary, the value of production on both tobacco and tea farms increased significantly. And so did the settler farmers' capacity to capture the profits, which was manifested in a declining wage share over time. In contrast with previous research, we argue that the declining wage share cannot be explained by domestic colonial policies but rather through changes in regional migration patterns, and global commodity markets. Migration patterns had a significant impact on the supply of farm labour and global commodity markets influenced value of production. Market forces rather than colonial policies shaped the development trajectory of settler farming in Nyasaland.