A key political feature of South Africa's transformation was the African National Congress, the National Party and Inkatha Freedom Party working together in a grand coalition. This arrangement was praised by leading power-sharing theorist Arend Lijphart. The unity government began in 1994 but two years later the National Party withdrew. This article explores power sharing during the initial phase of the settlement and discusses three aspects of it. First, the South African example points to the electoral drawbacks of power sharing for minor parties. Second, the National Party's participation in the coalition stifled the early development of substantial political opposition which slowed the pace of democratic consolidation. Third, participation in a power-sharing arrangement undermined the National Party's electoral fortunes contributing to its dissolution in 2005. This was an unexpected outcome for a party which had co-authored the country's settlement a little over a decade earlier.

This symposium was organised by the Inter-African Committee on Linguistics—a committee of C.C.T.A. whose chairman is Professor M. Guthrie. It was planned to coincide with the second meeting of the Committee, which accepted responsibility for implementing the recommendations of the symposium after approval by member governments of C.C.T.A.

Discussion of industrial activity in capitalist Third-World countries has usually centred on a series of dualistic frameworks, most recently the opposition between the so-called ‘formal’ and ‘informal’ sectors of an economy. Such dichotomies attempt to divide the activities of labour as cleanly as possible into two groups sharing common characteristics. The categories that emerge – modern/traditional, large/small-scale, formal/informal – overlap to a considerable degree because, in effect, they all attempt, with varying crudity, to compare the socio-economic characteristics of those dominant capitalist enterprises which are based on intensive capital, high-level technology, and a large scale of production, with those activities in the economy which are not based on such features. As such, the second category tends to have both negative and residual components.

Most analyses of the problems of collective production in Tanzania have focused upon the political, social, and cultural contexts within which attempts to establish that organisational mode took place.1 Economic dimensions have taken a central place, as well, but the primary concern here has been the socio-economic and the political-economic i.e. the influence of stratification and of the opposing interests of the various classes. That brand of conventional western (‘neo-classical’) economics which preoccupies itself with theoretical questions of individual behaviour and choice has played no real rôle in analysis and research. This fact can probably be attributed to two causes. First, given Tanzania's socialist orientation, and the impact which this has had upon the staffing and research interests of its University faculty, non-radical economics was held in low esteem by most researchers and writers working in Tanzania, particularly by those who concerned themselves with socialist development issues. Second, owing to the fact that western economics has traditionally offered ideological support to private enterprise, it could easily be assumed that this discipline would have nothing constructive to say about ujamaa.

The security services of every state are determined by two overlapping imperatives: a functional one flowing from actual or perceived threats to the country's safety, and a societal one stemming from the dominant ideologies, structures, and institutions prevailing within the state. Thus defence policy is not produced in a vacuum but in the context of a set of circumstances – historical and contemporary, external and domestic – which influence the policy-makers and their advisers. Decisions regarding the appropriate levels, patterns, and time-frame of security spending are not purely political, since they are also about the allocation of resources and about competing claims on public expenditure.

Without political freedom there can be no cultural freedom; a programme of cultural emancipation is dependent, therefore, on national liberation, and one would like to believe that this ‘therefore’ influenced the determination by the American Society of African Culture to focus more sharply not only on cultural exchanges but on the political battle for the mind of southern Africa. This fourth international conference, held at Howard University under the title ‘Southern Africa in Transition’, was ‘aimed at focusing widespread attention on the complex and difficult problems being faced by those struggling for freedom in this troubled area’. It was attended by an impressive group of Afro-American, white American, and European Africanists, together with African leaders of countries from the Congo to the Cape.

Since the signing of the Sun City peace agreement in 2002, the Democratic Republic of Congo has strived to democratise with limited success. This paper explores some of the challenges of the process of democratisation in the Congo. It does so not by looking at democratisation policies and practices, but by focusing on identity construction and how these identities manifest themselves in Congolese engagements with the process of democratisation as a process that is pursued in partnership with Western donors. The paper traces the construction of an understanding of democracy as a means to make an end to perpetual victimisation of Congolese people due to foreign interference in the Congo. The paper argues that the concept of democracy has acquired over time a meaning that creates a highly ambivalent engagement with the current democratisation process, and in particular with Western donors of this process, which are simultaneously perceived as the main obstacles to its successful realisation.

Peter Oksen's comments on our paper about farmer–herdsman relations in Burkina Faso raise some interesting issues, notably regarding problems of interpretation of oral and archival sources and regarding the broader relevance of insights gained from an in-depth case study. Before answering straightforwardly to his objections, it is useful to clarify the misunderstanding which appears to exist about the meaning we attribute to ‘symbiosis’ and ‘symbiotic relations’. In our article we restricted the use of these terms to the way in which past relations between farmers and herdsmen, depicted as undifferentiated groups, are often represented. In discussions about the change of these relations, the emphasis is on progressive deterioration, again without attention paid to the possible existence of intra-group differentiation or of heterogeneity of relations across group boundaries. In this regard, it is remarkable that from colonial documents the interests of farmers and herdsmen emerge as equally irreconcilable as they are often considered today, and that, just as at present, competition over scarce natural resources constituted a major factor in inter-group relations. If we therefore reject ‘symbiosis’ as a correct description of formerly existing inter-group relations, we do not intend to imply that complementary links – such as those we describe for present-day relations between Mossi and Fulbe – did not exist in the past. A major aspect of our argument is that inter-group relations, whether past or present, cannot be subsumed under simplifying labels such as ‘symbiosis’. Neither can changes in these relations be understood in terms of uni-directionally processes of deterioration. Hence, present-day ‘complementary’ links across the ethnic boundary – established by certain, but not all, Mossi and Fulbe actors – are but a manifestation of the continued presence of diversity of relations, not of ‘symbiosis’. They point to mutual interests between certain actors belonging to different ethnic groups, not between the groups as such.

As taxation has become a prominent issue on the international development policy agenda, a growing body of research has focused on taxpayer perceptions and experiences of taxation. A strand of this research emphasises the importance of the historical, political and social context of taxation. We position ourselves in line with this research as we pay attention to the emic definitions of taxation in Africa across contexts, languages, and time periods. We explore how the conception of taxation in different contexts is closely interrelated with the language used to describe it, with language being a product of histories of colonialism, conflict, and extraction by social, traditional and political actors. We argue that studies of taxation, particularly survey-based research, need to be complemented, if not informed, by a deeper understanding of the diversity of tax landscapes and of the meanings ascribed to taxation in a given context. This will strengthen content and interpretive validity of taxpayer perception data as well as provide important nuances to the understanding of the dynamics of taxpayers’ experiences of contemporary states and systems of taxation.

The domestic economies of most nations in Africa are based upon small-holder agriculture, which has demonstrated in the past that it can be a dynamic source of growth1. However, many governments have tried to constrain this sector and, except for a few export crops during a particular period of time, to replace it with larger farming units wherever possible.2 Part of the reason for such policies is a lack of understanding of the nature of small holdings – surprisingly little is known about what they actually are and do.3 It is frequently assumed that African farmers live in a state of blind ignorance, using inappropriate methods, and only waiting to be taught the excellent technology which stands ready to be used.4 The available evidence indicates that this is grossly wrong.5

The problem of African advancement has an essentially political side. Since the discussion here is concerned with the overtly economic aspects of localisation, specific mention must be made at the outset of its political implications, especially of the possibility of conflict between economic and political aims. For example, it may well happen that at a given stage of economic development, a country would maximise its rate of economic growth by leaning heavily on imports of capital and skilled personnel, but that this policy is unacceptable on political grounds. Under these circumstances, the country's leaders must decide whether to subordinate economic to political welfare, or vice versa. Economic analysis is not able to offer any guidance on how this decision should be made: except to ensure that if political considerations are to be regarded as paramount, the full economic cost of a politically-oriented decision is known and appreciated.

Even now, in the last third of the twentieth century, the nineteenth-century dual economy still exists, in effect if no longer in name, over much of the developing world. Although nationally independent — in Latin America for the past 100 years, and now in Africa and Asia — many of the developing nations are still economically dominated by their past colonial masters.

In the light of lively and widespread interest in developing-country technology it is not surprising that the search for what is ‘appropriate’ should be bedevilled by semantic confusion. This is, nevertheless, a nuisance which imposes on those who participate in the search and related discussion a tiresome obligation to try to make more than usually clear the meaning of the terms they use. In this regard, it comes naturally to economists to take as ‘appropriate’ that technology (set of inputs and processes) which would minimise the cost of production of a given volume of a given good in any particular location. This minimum cost can, of course, be calculated either at market or social prices, and the application of the latter — if they accurately reflected the real opportunity costs to the economy of the various factor inputs — would for many identify the optimum technology.

Why do elections in some ethnically diverse constituencies resemble an ethnic census, while in others ethnicity plays a less prominent role? Prior literature on ethnic bloc voting in Africa suggests that political parties acquire ethnic ‘labels’ that tacitly signal which groups belong to the party. In ethnic census-style elections, voters and politicians then use ethnicity as a heuristic for deciding which party to support. However, ethnic censuses are not the only possible outcome in diverse constituencies. Links between ethnic identities and political parties can create a disconnect between locally and nationally relevant identities that affects the dynamics of local elections. Drawing on data from over 160 semi-structured, qualitative interviews and detailed election results in four ethnically diverse Kenyan parliamentary constituencies, I show how local constructions of ethnic difference mediate the effects of national political dynamics and shape patterns of political competition in parliamentary elections, affecting the behaviour of politicians and voters.

This article has as its theme the organisation of an African urban revolt in South Africa from 1960 to 1965. Reference is made mainly to events in Port Elizabeth and its near neighbour, East London; it need hardly be added that there were similar developments in other parts of the country. The way in which the revolt was organised was little reported at the time, and the details emerged only in the verbatim court records of the trials of both leaders and followers. Press reports of these trials are scattered over a number of South African newspapers, whose reporting—while good—is not as detailed as the documents; and a few items appear in the overseas press. The importance of this revolt, which is still being waged from outside South Africa's borders, might justify an analysis of what took place in the country itself, even if the research on which it is based remains incomplete.