A unified élite means the end of freedom. But when the groups of the élite… become a disunity, it means the end of the state. Freedom survives in [the] intermediate free zones.1 Any system that restrains [solidification of the élite] however slightly can only excite awe.2

Transnational medical research has become a common feature in many parts of Africa. This paper explores the contribution such activity makes to the social and economic lives of those involved, including both trial subjects and local staff. By considering the value of the ‘exposure’ that involvement brings to staff and research participants, we reflect on the conversion of scientific knowledge into practical knowledge and its value to sustaining precarious livelihoods in an economically fragile city. We consider the interplay between science and sociality and argue for a need to take seriously the circulation of scientific knowledge beyond the confines of expert spaces.

There has been a long controversy over the likely impact of population dynamics on economic growth and development. As long ago as 1789 the Reverend Thomas Malthus argued in his famous ‘Essay on the Principle of Population’ that food production would not keep pace with the population's natural proclivity to grow in an unchecked fashion. In the absence of prudential checks, the result would be starvation, vice, and misery, with a tendency for economies to stagnate at a subsistence or poverty level of income.

Under the title ‘The American Dilemma on the Horn’, Bereket Habte Selassie published in this Journal, Vol. 22, No. 2, June 1984, pp. 249–72, a lawyer's presentation of a client's case: that of the Eritrean separatists. Although my views do not necessarily represent those held by the régime in Addis Ababa, they do indicate why Ethiopians resolutely continue to defend the territorial integrity of their motherland with a degree of unity only admitted by a few writers.

During the last few inflation-ridden years many countries have experienced a severe crisis of industrial relations as workers tried, through collective action, to preserve their living standards against the pressure of rising prices. But Tanzania stands as a conspicuous example of one country where, during the 1970s, strikes seem virtually to have disappeared, as may be seen from Table I.1 It is true that the Tanzanian definition of a strike excludes disputes lasting less than one day; and it is also true that there have been occasions since 1972 when workers have ‘downed tools’ for brief protest periods. But the lack of reported strikes in Tanzania is not a statistical illusion. The Labour Officers of the Ministry of Labour and Social Welfare keep a close watch on the state of industrial relations, and these occurrences are known to and are reported by them, as is shown by their recording of three strikes in 1977. This last fact also demonstrates that strikes can still occur in Tanzania.

The impact of nuclear weapons on the present and future trends in international relations continues to attract wide scholarship. While the literature on the subject has been growing apace, nuclear technology is becoming increasingly sophisticated, and the dangers posed to the survival of mankind are becoming much more acute than hitherto. In broad terms, the fears expressed about these weapons tend to centre around the implications of three major issues: the emergence of greater first-strike inclinations in the two super-power nuclear forces; the possibility of a perceived strategic imbalance favouring either the United States or the Soviet Union; and the dangers of nuclear proliferation.

Explaining Swaziland's political position in the context of Southern Africa has been difficult and never in vogue. This small Kingdom with a population of less than 700,000 has often been neglected in African analyses, and where facts and figures have been presented, these have not been sufficient to give us any real understanding as regards what has happened in recent years, and why. What to some has defied objective explanation has been the Kingdom's non-conflictual relationship with South Africa which, in a regionally polarised situation, has come to be interpreted as a ready willingness to collaborate with the apartheid state.

This article presents peasant grievances on the flawed 2000 elections in Hadiya zone, southern Ethiopia. For the first time in Ethiopia's electoral history, an opposition party managed to win the majority of the votes in one administrative zone. In the run-up to the elections, government cadres and officials intimidated and harassed candidates and members from the opposition Hadiya National Democratic Organisation (HNDO). Several candidates and members were arrested and political campaigning was restricted. On election day, widespread attempts at rigging the election took place, and violence was exerted in several places by government cadres and the police. Despite the government's attempt to curtail and control the elections in Hadiya, the opposition party mobilised the people in a popular protest to challenge the government party's political hegemony – and won. If this is an indication of a permanent shift of power relations in Hadiya, it is however, too early to say.

Whether he is called Le Sage (the Wise Man), Le Vieux (the Old Man), or more recently Nana (a Baule term for grandfather), the veneration implied by these words is unequalled by any other leader in West Africa today. It is clear that after over 50 years of political activism, the President of Côte d'Ivoire, Félix Houphouët-Boigny, has brought together a combination of elements that has allowed him to gain and maintain the respect of western leaders, his African counterparts, and until recently, almost every Ivoirian.

During 1984 the citizens of Botswana will return to the polls for their fifth national election, the fourth since independence in 1966. While not an unusual exercise in Botswana, this will be a significant occurrence in an independent Africa where elections themselves have become increasingly rare and problematic, and still more so within a multi-party system which amounted to more than simply rubber-stamping party decisions. While other states in Africa concern themselves with the establishment of one-party régimes or with the need return to civilian rule, Botswana has had a successful series of multiparty elections uninterrupted by military coups. This article explores Botswana's experience, with attention to parties, the electoral system, voting trends, and prospects for the future.

Captain Thomas Sankara, Comrade President of Burkina Faso, was assassinated on 15 October 1987, allegedly in accordance with the wishes of Captain Blaise Compaoré, Major Jean-Baptiste Lingani, and Captain Henri Zongo. These three officers, said to have feared for their lives, had ordered the arrest of Sankara in order to avoid plunging their country into a blood-bath. The radio broadcast announcing the execution referred to Sankara as a ‘renegade’, a ‘traitor to the revolution’, ‘an autocratic mystic’, and a ‘paranoid misogynist’. It added that the ex-President's ‘high treason’ was illustrated by his trampling upon all organisational principles, his betrayal of the noble objectives of the democratic and popular revolution, his personalisation of power, and by his ambitious use of mysticism to solve the concrete problems of the masses. ‘This’, the broadcast concluded, ‘was inexorably leading us towards total chaos.’1 When he finally broke his silence, Compaoré, the alleged leader of the coup d'état, accused Sankara of ‘wanting to lead the world revolution’.

The political openings that took place in the early 1990s, followed by a wave of elections across Africa, were widely interpreted as the beginning of a transition to democracy. Few persons knowledgeable about the continent assumed that this process would be easy. The obstacles, it was recognised, were legion, ranging from the nature of the existing régimes to the difficult economic circumstances confronted by virtually all countries. Nevertheless, the overall assessment remained optimistic. Slowly, imperfectly, with set-backs, Africa would move in the direction of democracy, and western liberal democracy at that.

It is time to reassess the validity of such expectations, not least since much of what has happened in Africa on the political front during the past five years could easily be interpreted as indicating the persistence of authoritarianism, the spread of ethnic conflict, or the continuation of a process of state disintegration. Indeed, there is a real danger that attempts to analyse how close African countries are coming to democracy, or how far away they remain, may in the end blind us to the real significance of the available data. Hence the need to re-examine why the idea that Africa is experiencing a democratic transition, however, imperfect, gained ground.

There is an understandable tendency to think that the first overt action taken by the British Government in respect of colonial education in Africa was the setting up of an Advisory Committee on Native Education in the British Tropical African Dependencies in 1923. This is not in fact true. There was for instance a Privy Council memorandum of 1847 on ‘industrial schools for coloured races’, in many ways a remarkable document, setting forth a number of ideas that were to be later accepted in colonial provision for education in Africa—ideas such as the interdependence of moral and physical training, the need for the school to make an impact on the local community in respect of agricultural development and improved sanitation, the need to adapt the content of the curriculum to local needs, and the advisability of the teacher being familiar with the local culture. And of course British experience in education in India provided some terms of reference for educationists in other parts of the world ruled by Britain. Often they tended to treat the Indian experience as a warning of what to avoid: for instance, it was believed that the use of English as a medium of instruction, as recommended in Macaulay's minute of 1833, might have contributed to the Mutiny of 1857; and also the structure of Indian education was considered rather top-heavy, following the establishment of universities whose students became leaders in the movements of political discontent. These “lessons’ were to be incorporated in British thinking about education in Africa in the following century.

Six years of intense debate have produced a measure of agreement on a solution for Africa's malaise. This is captured by the latest catchphrase of the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank, ‘Adjustment with Growth’, which implicitly acknowledge past errors by African governments – or, minimally, that a continuation of previous policies is no longer tenable in a changed external environment. An emphasis on ‘growth’ recognises that ‘adjustment’ must encompass more than ‘stabilisation’, that the continent needs additional externally-provided financial resources on concessional terms if import strangulation is not to exacerbate the downward economic spiral in which many countries are currently trapped. This fragile consensus is facing its first serious practical test as the World Bank attempts to extend its Structural Adjustment Lending programme in Africa. Clearly, significant differences remain between the attitudes of African governments and external donors, and within the academic community, on the sources of the continent's problems and on the policy measures that are needed to counteract them.

The term ‘amaphara’, possibly derived from ‘parasites’, burst into South African public culture in the 2010s to refer to petty thieves addicted to a heroin-based drug locally called whoonga/nyaope. Drawing on ethnography and media sources to interrogate the rise of ‘amaphara’, this paper argues that South Africa's heroin epidemic magnifies the attention – criticism but also sympathy – directed toward marginalised black men who have few prospects for social mobility. It locates amaphara in the national context where drug policy is largely punitive and youth unemployment rates are painfully high, but gives particular attention to families’ and communities’ experiences with intimate crimes, especially petty thefts. It further shows that amaphara is a contested term: heroin users are brothers, sons and grandchildren and they gain most of their income not from crime but by undertaking useful piece work in communities.

The stated economic policy of the African National Congress (ANC) underwent a dramatic shift in the 1990s, away from a soft-left redistributionist position to one much more closely aligned with the policy preferences of the South African business community. To what extent can this shift be attributed to lobbying efforts by that community? The article reviews the development of economic policy by the ANC in the 1990s, and concludes that while business was undoubtedly influential in this process, much of that influence was indirect and derived from two sets of sources: first, the international policy consensus around the neo-liberal reform agenda; and second, indirect signals from ‘the market’ by means of such mechanisms as movements in the value of the currency, and investor and business confidence.

Decolonisation in sub-Saharan Africa began in January 1956 when the Sudan joined long-independent Ethiopia and Liberia as a new, post-colonial state. Although the process is not yet complete because of the disputed status of Namibia and South Africa's continued rule by a white minority, over the past 30 years as many as 43 new states have achieved independence from colonial rule, the most recent being Zimbabwe in April 1980.

The Republic of Guinea is located in a particularly turbulent region. However, while several conflicts in neighbouring countries – Guinea-Bissau, Liberia and Sierra Leone – have spilled over Guinea's borders, the country's central government has displayed a seemingly unlikely stability. Until a bloodless coup in December 2008 brought a military junta to power, the country had had only two presidents since independence, both of whom died of natural causes while still in office. Ahmed Sékou Touré, Guinea's first leader, deftly used the anti-colonial insurgency in neighbouring Guinea-Bissau to enhance his political credentials and control domestic and international opposition. The administration of the late President Lansana Conté leveraged regional warfare to solidify its command over remote provinces, increase government revenues, bolster military capacity, and improve regional diplomatic relations. This paper supports the analysis of civil wars as regional phenomena, while shedding light on mechanisms that may interact in counter-intuitive ways with the dynamics of state strength.

This article is based on the observation that the large debate on the nature and consequences of so-called indigenous land tenure systems does not sufficiently take into account the perceptions and interpretations of peasants themselves. Consequently, its aims are to provide people with a voice and to analyse their assessment of different forms of access to land, of the modifications undergone in recent times, and their adjustments to this change. The results of this qualitative approach are compared with some statistical information gathered by the authors in the study region – three villages in central Burkina Faso – as well as country-wide. As a result, one may conclude that peasants in this area do not feel insecure about their land tenure situation, and this assessment of their own position is confirmed by empirical data.

In Liberia, women's advocacy has been crucial in bringing peace after 14 years of conflict as well as in electing Africa's first female president. While the accomplishments of the women's movement have been widely praised, some authors have suggested that the once vibrant movement is crumbling. In this article we claim that one of the most important challenges for the Liberian women's movement comes precisely from its internationally proclaimed success, provoking four related outcomes: First, different women's organisations compete for the credit of the success story; second, the national government has tried to appropriate the movement and integrate it into governmental structures; third, the relationship between the movement and its international partners has evolved towards mutual disappointment due to a lack of sustainable funding and unmet expectations; and fourth, the movement seems stuck in the peacemaker label and unable to redefine itself to engage in new battles as international aid diminishes.