Of the 21 members of the Arab League, the Islamic Republic of Mauritania has received perhaps the least attention, ranking far behind other North African states, much less those closer to the Arab—Israeli fault-line or the recent Gulf conflict. Mauritania's desperate economic condition (a G.N.P. per capita of only $446 in 1984) has been occasionally publicised, as well as advancing desertification (reaching even into the centre of the capital, Nouakchott), and the tensions between the ruling Beydane (‘white’) Arabs, supported by their cultural/political allies, and the black African tribes concentrated in the Senegal River valley that erupted into violence in April 1989, and which led to a near-war between Senegal and Mauritania.

Focusing on one of the most targeted areas for land investments in Tanzania (Rufiji district), this article compares the involvement of two Tanzanian state agencies in land acquisition, in the context of the central government's new strategy on productive investors. Given the fragmented and contentious authority of many African states, I investigate the impact of state intermediaries on the relationships between investors and local populations and consider bureaucrats as a group of actors to analyse flows of power within the state. I make two main points. First, the central state's weak infrastructural power and resulting lack of local knowledge, and, conversely, local bureaucrats’ possession of these valuable resources, reverses the flow of power from local to central. Second, a central monitoring process might have a negative effect. Instead of protecting vulnerable populations, it fosters institutional innovations that protect local bureaucrats’ opportunities for accumulation with investors, to the detriment of local populations.

Today, a majority of citizens of Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, participate in suburban and exurban growth and development much like urbanites throughout the world. Unlike the garden suburbs of North America or Europe, Dar es Salaam's suburban residents often engage in multiple income-generating activities, the most common and conspicuous of which are cultivation and animal husbandry. The presence of urban farming has suggested that Dar es Salaam's residents represent peasants incrementally transitioning to urban life. This article however, contends that everything from the varieties of cultivation, access to land and water, to the definition of what it means to be a farmer is shaped by decentralised private interests controlling access to land and resources in suburban neighbourhoods. The varieties of cultivation and animal husbandry instead reflect socioeconomic class distinctions emerging from a new suburban political economy, enabling a clearer perspective on the prospects of cultivators as these suburban districts transform.

Well over 50 years ago, John Mensah Sarbah, a Gold Coast lawyer, romantically described the traditional social order in these terms: ‘In the African social system the formation of a pauper class is unknown, nor is there antagonism of class against class.’1 Similar views still prevail throughout most of Africa and the western world. Moreover, a rationale based on this ostensible ‘classlessness’ is employed by Africa's leaders to justify single-party rule and the repression of dissident elements in society, and to explain and defend policies of African socialism.

In early 2012, South Africa's Western Cape Province enacted new alcohol control legislation amid mounting concern with the costs of alcohol-related harms. This has focused on urban shebeen closure to control the informal, unlicensed trade and the harms it generates through crime, violence and injury. In contrast to policy discourse, this paper contends that rather than existing outside regulation, the city's shebeeners embrace multiple (self and collective) regulatory strategies to manage the inherent risks of their own informality. Drawing on novel empirical data including a ‘business census’ and interviews with the police and liquor traders across four Cape Town case study sites, the paper adds new depth to contemporary engagements with the appropriate and equitable regulation of the South African informal liquor trade.

For the latter decades of the last century, the Karamoja region of north-eastern Uganda was infamous as a place of violent cattle raids and road ambushes, populated by fierce warriors. Using primary data, this article examines the shifts from large-scale raiding to opportunistic theft as well as the profound transformation in the security environment over the past 10 years. We argue that the combination of a top-down sustained disarmament campaign and grassroots peace resolutions have created relative stability for the first time in decades. This stability has allowed for the expansion of markets, investments by national and international actors, and the rejuvenation of livelihoods for many residents. However, while large-scale violent cattle raids are largely a thing of the past, violence and insecurity have shifted to the domestic sphere in the form of small-scale but pervasive thefts and rampant domestic violence.

This paper explores the dynamics of regime change in South Africa and Zimbabwe through an examination of civil society's role, but more particularly mainline Christian religious associations, in democratising and consolidating democracy. After surveying state–civil society debates, an analysis of the nature and purpose of civil society in these two countries is undertaken. In both countries, a vibrant, diverse civil society exists that builds or strengthens democratic possibilities; however, Zimbabwean civil society is weaker for reasons that include regime type, the particularities of the liberation struggle, and constitutional limitations. The paper concludes with prescriptions for strengthening civil society in South Africa based on lessons learned from Zimbabwe.

Evidence of political instability in Kenya emerged through the organised and spontaneous violence following the 2007 elections. Understanding the underlying reasons for popular contestations of power and involvement in violence depends on understanding Kenyans' perceptions of existing and desirable political institutions. By analysing recommendations made in the Constitution of Kenya Review Commission public hearings in each province in 2002, this article explores the viewpoints of those outside high politics in Kenya, teasing out the continuities and divergences in popular thought about political relations in Kenya at the end of the Moi years, and thus providing insights into how Kenyans understand their relationship with those in power, revealing that amidst diverse experiences, disillusionment pervades Kenyans' perceptions of political relations.

Late in 1979 the Zambian Government unveiled its Third National Development Plan which will guide policies until the year 1984, and this implies that problems of unemployment, particularly in urban areas, will be partly overcome by an expansion of self-employment possibilities.

Such was the enthusiasm for the new initiative that the absence of reliable information surrounding it was largely ignored. This article attempts to provide relevant data concerning a number of issues which will be vital in implementing any measures to encourage self-employment in the so-called ‘informal sector’ of the Zambian economy. In particular we shall endeavour to quantify the likely flows into the labour force, particularly from the educational system, the possible growth of formal wage employment in urban areas, and the current size and composition of the informal sector. Finally, conclusions are drawn concerning the possible rôle of this sector in absorbing the unemployed in the plan period.

The 1980s were a terrible time for Africa. The decade began auspiciously enough — Nigeria had returned to civilian rule, the Tanzania People's Defence Force had sent Idi Amin packing, and the liberation struggle in Zimbabwe was about to win independence. But this promising beginning was quickly transformed and Africa sunk into its ‘lost decade’.

Despite their centrality to the rhythm and practice of everyday urban life, there are, surprisingly, few studies on commercial minibus-taxis as a microcosm of city life in Africa, especially its precarious materiality. Using the trademark yellow minibus-taxis (danfos) in Lagos as a frame of reference, this paper explores what an interpretative analysis of the slogans that danfo workers paint on their vehicles can tell us about the city in which they weave their routine existence, especially the hopes, fears and actual material circumstances which informed their unique choice of slogans. Foregrounding the danfos as mobile bodies of meaning, the article finds that slogans not only reflect the lived realities of danfo workers, but are themselves vital means through which these workers get by, define their identity and expand their horizons of possibility.

For the countries of Africa the 1980s was a decade of depening economic crisis. The international economic environment became increasingly hostile, with declining terms of trade, recession in the industrial countries, and heavy debt-servicing burdens. Domestically, many economies were disrupted by severe drought conditions and civil disturbances.

A Central question in African education, almost since the time the first schools were established by missionaries and colonial governments, has been the importance of making education relevant to the needs of the developing areas, rather than offering only an academic education transplanted from Europe. As early as 1847, for example, the British Colonial Office received a comprehensive memorandum on education which included a number of suggestions for providing practical training in schools in the colonies. Among the specific steps proposed were the establishment of industrial and farm schools, with the inclusion of agriculture, stock management, and land surveying in the curricula of teacher-training institutions.1

The nine member-states of the Southern African Development Coordination Conference (S.A.D.C.C.) – Zimbabwe, Zambia, Angola, Mozambique, Botswana, Tanzania, Malawi, Lesotho, Swaziland – are notable for their collective weakness relative to South Africa, and their very wide economic and political heterogeneity.1 Only four, or at most five, have economies whose annual G.D.P. exceeds $2,000 million: two of these, Angola and Mozambique, are under more or less constant attack from South Africa or its surrogate forces, while Tanzania is actually the most remote, physically and economically. At the same time, Malawi, Swaziland, and Lesotho – who are not in the so-called ‘Frontline’, unlike the other six – have rather close political relations with Pretoria, Malawi most substantively since as early as 1966 and Swaziland since 1982.2 Botswana is more independent politically, with a modest G.D.P. and very small population.

By any standard, no other third-world leader in recent times has earned as much notoriety for foreign adventurist policies as Colonel Muammar el-Qaddafi. The Libyan President has on different occasions embarked on a militant course of confrontation with the United States in defence of his controversial definition of territorial air space over the Gulf of Sidra. Gulf of Sidra. During the 1982 war between Britain and Argentina, Qaddafi shipped more than $100 million worth of weapons, including 120 Soviet-made SAM-7 missiles, to Buenos Aires.1 His name has since been linked with bombing and shooting incidents in Britain, which eventually led the Government there to sever Anglo-Libyan diplomatic links in April 1984;2 with arms supplies to Nicaragua, the Irish Republican Army, and several secessionist movements in Africa; with coup plots in a number of countries, including Pakistan;3 and he has openly assaulted some of his neighbours, notably the Sudan and Chad.4 Then, in December 1985, the Libyan President was linked to the daring attacks by P.L.O. gunmen on the Israeli Airline's check-in counters at the Vienna and Rome airports, in which at least 16 people lost their lives and 120 were injured.5

Lenin set the tone for most successful revolutions in the twentieth century when he altered traditional Marxism to suit the conditions of Russia. Mao Tse-tung followed Lenin's example when he too adjusted Marxism (and Leninism) to a Chinese environment. It seems to follow, therefore, that attempts at revolution everywhere should not be mere imitations of previously successful upheavals but should, instead, be tailored to fit specific circumstances. Thus, African revolutions should be made on the basis of African conditions. But such conditions are not, in general, always easy to discern, nor are separate analyses of those conditions certain to be similar. This is especially true of the theories of revolution of two of the most important and influential figures in recent African history: Frantz Fanon (1925–61) and Amilcar Cabral (1925–73).

Economic integration has been in the forefront of discussion in Africa since the massive movement towards independence in the late 1950's and early 60's. There was immediate recognition that, while independence had been the primary goal, African frontiers were largely an artificial by-product of the colonial scramble 60 to 70 years ago, that many African countries were too small to be economically viable, and that to transform political into economic independence necessarily required concerted action. Further impetus was given to thinking and discussion by the setting up of the Economic Commission for Africa in 1958 and of the Organisation of African Unity in 1963. Concepts, of course, varied, as the pre-history of the O.A.U. shows clearly. The radical Casablanca group stood for an all-African common market, to lead rapidly to an all-African government. The member states of the Union africaine et malgache had much more limited but also more precise objectives: especially continued close co-operation among the francophone countries, and association with the European Common Market, particularly France. There were other ideas and associations, often cutting across these two main groupings. Yet it is perhaps only recently that views are beginning to clarify and that the real difficulties involved are being realised, a condition precedent for progress in practice. Economic integration has to be seen as an ultimate goal, with a number of concrete intermediate steps involving ever-increasing economic cooperation among groups of countries.

Seven years have passed since the overthrow of the independent Arab government of Zanzibar on 12 January 1964, and the installation of a revolutionary African government. The goals of the revolution at that time were, summarily stated: (i) African majority rule, to be implemented through a one-party system; (ii) the nationalisation of the land and the abolition of what were deemed to be the capitalist, exploitative classes; and (iii) an end to racial discrimination and favouritism, which, in practice, was to mean easier African access to jobs, schools, medical treatment, and land ownership — see Zanzibar Government, 1964–1967: We Have Completed Three Tears: the Fruits of the Revolution in the Islands (Zanzibar, 1967), pp. iii-vi.

This article concerns two important arenas of political competition in Zambia: on the one hand, between parties and, on the other, within the ruling party itself. Competition between political parties exists especially between the United National Independence Party (U.N.I.P.) and two small party rivals, the African National Congress (A.N.C.) and the United Party (U.P.). Many U.N.I.P. officials at various levels have looked forward to the establishment of a one-party state in Zambia, on the familiar grounds that minor opposition parties appeal to parochial loyalties: that they oppose constructive programmes irresponsibly and hamper their implementation: and that political opposition is a luxury which diverts time, energy, and money away from the important tasks of development. In pursuit of its objective of eliminating inter-party competition, U.N.I.P. has generally employed two different sets of tactics, based on different assumptions about the strength and potential of the two minor parties.

The right to organise is of the greatest importance because of our need to come together in order to pursue common interests and goals. It goes hand in hand with the right to associate and to assemble freely, covers all sections of society, and its highest manifestation is normally the creation and continuing significance of political parties, trade unions, and other non-governmental organisations.