‘THE story, the spirit of Pan-Africanism, although originating in America and France, was brought to our country by a man whose name and memory I should like to recall here. I am speaking of Marc Kodio Tovallo Queno, who—as an authentic African forerunner of the movement—claimed his negritude even before the word was coined. He brought us to know Marcus Garvey, Dr Du Bois, and so many others; when I was a child I heard my parents speak of these names and evoke these problems. That is to say, if the first sketch of this movement was begun in America and Paris, it had, before it was publicly evident, repercussions and an extension in Africa.’1

In the four years since the signing of the Nkomati accord in March 1984, Mozambique has undergone a quiet but far-reaching process of policy reform. Faced with a major crisis caused by the Renamo insurgency and by economic mismanagement, the Government has apparently abandoned its ambitious programme of socialist transformation through the creation of state farms and the launching of large projects, adopting instead a package of market-oriented economic reforms. Having joined the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund in late 1984, Mozambique has been devaluing its currency, increasing the prices of agricultural produce, allowing peasants to sell commodities to private traders, and channelling some aid to the private sector, in keeping with the policies favoured by those organisations, The U.S. Agency for International Development, which has also become a donor since 1984, has likewise exerted pressure for policy reform, in particular for aid to the private commercial farms. While the socialist economic sector has not been dismantled, the Government is now stressing the importance of peasant and private agriculture, and the necessity of providing more support for both.1

In 2002, Kenya's new National Rainbow Coalition (NARC) undertook to investigate and ensure the recovery of all public lands illegally allocated by the outgoing government. A Commission of Inquiry into the Illegal and Irregular Allocation of Public Land, chaired by the lawyer Paul Ndung'u, was appointed. The commission's report sets out the illegal land awards made to powerful individuals and families, provides important information about the mechanisms by which public land was misallocated, and shows how the doctrine that public land should be administered and allocated ‘in the public interest’ was consistently perverted. This paper explores what the Ndung'u report tells us about the role of the legal profession in the illegal and irregular misallocation of public land. It makes clear that the legal profession, far from upholding the rule of law, has played a central role in land corruption, using its professional skills and networks to accumulate personal wealth for itself and others. This stands in contrast to the role of the legal profession in promoting good governance and the rule of law envisaged by donors of international development aid. This paper focuses on ‘local’ land grabbing, and argues that the ‘global land grab’ or ‘investor rush’ needs to be understood alongside local manifestations of land privatisation.

Shortly after the overthrow of the Traoré regime in early 1991, several thousand cotton farmers in the southern part of Mali rose up to demand significant policy changes in cotton production and marketing. This rural revolt symbolised a new era of ‘democracy in the countryside’, and brought forth a vital, new political actor (the National Union of Cotton and Food Crop Producers, Syndicat des Producteurs de Coton de Vivriers, SYCOV) in Malian politics. After listening to more than thirty years of governmental populist pronouncements, Mali's cotton growers finally had a real opportunity to realise a measure of empowerment.

Earlier assessments of agricultural development and technology policy-making in Mali confirmed the need to see SYCOV in the long tradition of discontented farmers' movements around the world. This article places SYCOV in a broader political and global setting. It explores how an analysis of the union's emergence and its political relationships can improve our understanding of the contours and dynamics of democratisation in Mali, and perhaps throughout sub-Saharan Africa.

Comparing pre- and post-genocide Rwanda, this article argues that clear continuities exist between the regimes of Juvénal Habyarimana and Paul Kagame. Both have projected a remarkably similar image of ‘benevolent leadership’. Presenting themselves as harbingers of an ‘improved’ or ‘new’ Rwanda, both leaderships have claimed to be best able and willing to guide Rwanda along the right path to peace, security, ethnic unity and development. ‘Benevolent leadership’ in both periods has also served as a tool to try and shape regime relationships with international and domestic audiences. Internationally, each government has worked to promote Rwanda and its authorities as a good development partner. Domestically, these projections have served to establish norms of order and obedience. We argue that projections of ‘benevolent leadership’ have been a tool designed to win over the international community and discipline the Rwandan population.

Problems of taxation, in connexion with economic development, are generally discussed from two different points of view, which involve quite distinct, and often conflicting, considerations: the point of view of incentives and the point of view of resources. Those who believe that it is the lack of adequate incentives which is mainly responsible for insufficient growth and investment are concerned with improving the tax system through the granting of additional concessions of various kinds, with less regard to the unfavourable effects on the public revenue. Those who believe that insufficient growth and investment is mainly a consequence of a lack of resources are chiefly concerned with increasing the resources available for investment through additional taxation, even at the cost of worsening its disincentive effects.

In 1998, over seven years after a Commission of Inquiry into Land Matters was appointed by the then president of Tanzania, Ali Hassan Mwinyi, in January 1991, it is expected that a Land Bill will be tabled in the Tanzanian National Assembly. These seven years have witnessed mounting debate on the purpose and direction of land tenure reform. The purpose of this article is to review the debate in order to show that the question of women's unequal rights to land has been almost totally neglected. The article explores the politics of the land tenure reform process in Tanzania, and examines the reasons why the gender gap in the command over property has received little attention. Tanzania is presently at an important juncture in the restructuring of land relations. Since the issue of land reform came to the forefront of the political agenda in the early 1990s, an opportunity has existed to address the question of women's ownership and control of land. I argue, however, that this opportunity has not been taken, and that the issue of women's land rights has become marginalised within the debate and consequently in policy.

Examining first what may be termed the mainstream of the land tenure debate, conducted on the whole by those involved in making major policy recommendations and drafting legislation, it is argued that the issue of gender has been largely ignored. There have been a number of opportunities when the specific issue of women's relations to land should have been explicitly addressed in research findings and recommendations. Instead, one sees no more than a passing acknowledgement of the gender dimensions of land tenure reform. This is most noticeably the case in the academic writing of those who profess themselves to be most concerned with the land issue as one of democracy and justice. A number of reasons will be canvassed to explain this.

This article goes on to discuss the role of gender progressive groups, such as women's advocacy groups and non-governmental organisations (NGOs), in the land reform debate. Whilst it might be expected that such groups would be concerned to ensure that women's land rights are addressed, especially when the issue is being neglected in the mainstream debate, it is clear that in Tanzania they have been unable to challenge the marginalisation of gender issues in the reform agenda. I advance a number of reasons why feminist analyses of the land issue have been hampered and why there has been a failure to respond effectively to the opportunity to press the government for reforms to address women's demands.

Women's unequal command of property, and the question of how it might be overcome, merits attention. If there is to be progress, researchers and activists will have to document and theorise women's land relations, and I discuss some issues which might be addressed in order to broaden the land tenure reform agenda. These include questions about the form which women's land rights might take, how they might be achieved, and the strategies which will need to be adopted in pressuring the state for land reforms.

Ghana's 2008 election has been hailed by national and international observers as a model for Africa. The perception of success has prevailed despite persistent concerns about an inflated voters' register and electoral fraud perpetrated by the two major parties, the NPP and NDC, in their strongholds in the Ashanti and Volta Regions respectively. Electoral malpractice in Ghana's virtual two-party system could acquire a decisive importance as a ‘third force’, representing an even more important factor than the smaller opposition parties. Unfortunate diplomatic and technocratic biases in election monitoring, combined with a reluctance on the part of the responsible authorities to investigate what appears to be a long history of fraudulent voting, amounts to a dangerous time bomb of unresolved conflict which could detonate in future elections.

A little over a decade after the achievement of independence, Eritrea is confronted by a range of social and political problems, problems which are rooted both in the nation's past and in the ruling movement's interpretation of that past. This paper is concerned with the widening gulf between the nation-state, as envisaged by the Eritrean People's Liberation Front (EPLF) during the liberation struggle and as currently ‘imagined’ by the government, and the socio-political reality. Eritrean society is now marked by widening divisions between the ‘struggle generation’ and the membership of the former EPLF on the one hand, and large sections of the remainder of the population, notably youth. The 1998–2000 war with Ethiopia, the root causes of which are as yet unresolved, has proved more destructive than was apparent even at the time, and has been used by the state as a vindication of the EPLF's particular interpretation of the past. Political and social repression, rooted in a militaristic tradition and a profound fear of disunity, has intensified since the war. In this paper the current situation is examined in terms of the deep frustration felt by younger Eritreans, the urban–rural divide, the state-level determination to cling to the values and the aims of the liberation struggle, and the position of Eritrea in international politics.

Genuine efforts have been made in recent years to build a more egalitarian and just society in Tanzania. A ‘leadership code’ forbids senior government and party officials to have a second income from business interests or rents; a steeply progressive tax system reduces income differentials from a ratio of 1/100 before independence to 1/10 in the 1970s; a period of national service is obligatory for secondaryschool and university graduates; fairly successful attempts have been made to radically reform the whole educational system; and the major financial, industrial, and commercial enterprises have been nationalised. But 13 years after its inception in 1967, it is now generally acknowledged that the policy of creating ujamaa villages has failed in terms of what they had been designed to achieve: namely, the building of a socialist society in the rural areas of Tanzania where more than 90 per cent of the population lives.

In the first two years following the peace accord in Rome on 4 Ocotber 1992 between Mozambique's governing party, the Frente de Libertação de Moçambique (Frelimo), and the Resistência National Moçambicana (Renamo) guerrilla leadership, over one million refugees returned to the country while as many as three million moved back to the areas they were forced to flee during the war. With the post-accord commitment of the United Nations to monitor the ‘peace process’ as well as the political transition to a multi-party democratic régime, the international community invested itself strongly in supporting Mozambicans in their attempt to rebuild their war-torn country. The United Nations Operation in Mozambique (Unomoz) presented an acid test for the future of UN-sponsored ‘peacekeeping’ initiativesthe recent difficulties or failures in Angola, Somalia, and Bosnia having thrown into question the sensibility of such expensive operations with little probability of producing sustainable results. For the donor community, the end of the war signalled an opportunity to advance discussions and practical steps towards liberalising the Mozambican economy and decentralising state power — thereby offering a new laboratory for model testing.

Influential discourses present Foreign Direct Investment (FDI) as essential for agricultural development in Africa; a parallel, critical debate on ‘land rushes’ has denounced Land Grabs, demanding increased accountability in FDI-based land deals. This article explores an initiative located in central Mozambique, the Beira Agricultural Growth Corridor (BAGC). It shows how the international fertiliser company Yara set out to enrol actors at different levels in business, governance and agricultural development into BAGC as a public-private partnership to promote commercial agriculture. Very soon, however, Yara made shifts in its engagement and market strategy, leaving the BAGC initiative to supporting donors and local producers. The analysis presented here shows how the tension between ‘patient-capital’ requirements, high risks and low immediate returns have shaped this case over time – in a context of a national political economy framed by extractive-resource dynamics.

Bullets rather than ballots have dominated politics in Uganda since independence, where two governments have been removed by coups, one by a foreign invasion, and another by an armed rebellion. Force has not only dominated the formal political system, but also threatened the economic and social basis on which democratic processes and progressive development depends. For 25 years predatory military rule and civil war have destroyed lives, skills, and assets, undermined institutional competence and accountability, caused widespread per sonal trauma, suppressed autonomous organisations in civil society, and intensified ethnic hostility and conflict. And Uganda is not alone in this – the middle of the twentieth century was dominated by fascism and war, while sectarian or ethnic conflicts in Bosnia, Ulster, Sri Lanka, Somalia, the Sudan, Angola, Liberia, Zaï, Burundi, and Rwanda have inflicted untold damage on people and property.1

Aid donors' support for democratisation in sub-Saharan Africa in the 1990s has been tempered by their desire to achieve other objectives. In Uganda, a high level of donor support for the Museveni government has been compatible with the Ugandan government's reluctance to introduce multiparty democracy. Donors have opted for ‘dialogue’ rather than coercive methods. This may be ascribed to a number of factors, including the destruction from which Uganda was recovering, the need to present Uganda as a success story for economic liberalisation, and donors' need to maintain good relations with Uganda in order to pursue their foreign policy goals. The resulting donor–recipient relationship has however created dangers for the maintenance of long-term sustainable democracy in Uganda, by condoning divisive policies, and neglecting the need for coalition-building and conflict resolution.

The historical development of the modern state is marked by, among other important changes, the transformation of political legitimacy from the authority of princes to the mandate of the people, from dynastic to popular legitimacy. Since states are the creatures not only of their domestic environment but also of international society, we must distinguish between internal and international legitimacy. Martin Wight defines the latter as ‘the collective judgement of international society [i.e. other states] about rightful membership of the family of nations’. According to him, the convention of international legitimation that has predominated since 1945 is based on the combined and paradoxical principles of majority rule, which rejects the legitimacy of colonialism, and territorial integrity, which nevertheless accepts territorial divisions established under colonialism. We define internal legitimacy as the recognition of a state and its government as rightful by its population, which during the modern era has increasingly meant a popular recognition democratically expressed.

This paper examines Ghana's struggle to create a pluralistic nationality that guarantees universal rights to all citizens, including people of foreign origin. A major recipient of colonial labour migrants who considered themselves citizens of Ghana at the time of independence, Ghana provides an excellent case study for exploring the ambiguities and malleability of post-colonial citizenship. Analysing the various ways in which Ghanaian politicians have struggled to redefine the nationality status of descendants of migrants from other parts of West Africa since independence, I argue that the politicisation of Ghana's post-colonial citizenship stems not only from the country's colonial legacy, but also from struggles over diminishing economic resources between the late 1960s and early 1980s that led some indigenous Ghanaians to declare the non-autochthonous population as ‘aliens’ who should be excluded from the benefits of citizenship. Constitutional provisions that recognised citizenship by birth were contested by popular perceptions that only the autochthonous are ‘true’ citizens and are thus the only legitimate beneficiaries of political and economic rights.

Sub-Saharan Africa is the fastest urbanising region of the world. This demographic transformation has occurred in concert with two other trends in the region, nascent democratisation and stalled decentralisation. Using the case of Lusaka, Zambia, this study argues that in the context of multi-party competition and limited fiscal decentralisation, the challenges posed by rapid urbanisation are exacerbated for the urban poor living in cities controlled by opposition parties. Semi-structured interviews conducted with local political actors are combined with a survey of 200 informal sector workers in Lusaka. This data reveals the tactics employed by the central government to weaken the popularity of the opposition in Lusaka and shows that from the viewpoint of the urban poor, such tactics ultimately prove counterproductive. The presence of similar dynamics in other African cities has important implications for aid modalities, such as budget support, that are currently used by international donors to fund development projects, including those in the urban sector.

A Quarter of a century has elapsed since France granted independence to her former colonies in West and Central Africa. Yet to this day, France continues to wield considerable power and influence in these countries politically, economically, socially, and culturally, thanks to a tightly-knit network of formal and informal relations. France's African policy has been remarkably constant and stable through the various successive governments of the Fifth Republic. How can this persistent situation of dominance/dependency and this continuity in foreign policy be accounted for? More specifically, the present study tries to analyse the main characteristics and essential mechanisms of France/s post-colonial policy in Africa, all too often shrouded under a veil of secrecy, albeit premised on a number of historical factors for its ideological foundation. On this basis, a variety of economic and political interests have been developed which constitute the main elements of this policy and its principal explanatory variables. Eventually, it is concluded that a neo-colonial strategy has been adopted in order to preserve a status quo that is clearly favourable to the conservative interests of the western world in general, and to France in particular.

The interdependence between art and society, and the subsequent question of the function of art, belong to the old debate which has divided the artistic world into two broad factions. Radical writers and critics, sometimes labelled as ‘revolutionary’, think that the artistic universe is intimately connected with the socio-political context in which creativity takes place, and hence that art must play an active rôle in the society. The ‘conservatives’, while not necessarily opposing the active involvement of individual artists in politics, cleave to the view of art for its own sake and truth.

Tanzania, along with several other African countries, is experiencing a national mining boom, which has prompted hundreds of thousands of men and women to migrate to mineral-rich locations. At these sites, relationships between the sexes defy the sexual norms of the surrounding countryside to embrace new relational amalgams of polygamy, monogamy and promiscuity. This article challenges the assumption that female prostitution is widespread. Using interview data with women migrants, we delineate six ‘wifestyles’, namely sexual-cum-conjugal relationships between men and women that vary in their degree of sexual and material commitment. In contrast to bridewealth payments, which involved elders formalising marriages through negotiations over reproductive access to women, sexual negotiations and relations in mining settlements involve men and women making liaisons and co-habitation arrangements directly between each other without third-party intervention. Economic interdependence may evolve thereafter with the possibility of women, as well as men, offering material support to their sex partners.