The achievement of independence may tend to dull the interest which African leaders have shown in the organisations that try to influence policy-making in British government. But they should need no reminding that in Britain there are comparatively few means of maintaining an informed body of public opinion about international affairs as a background against which the Government can operate. Colonial policy was frequently left to colonial experts, and the case for African nationalism was argued by a small number of groups such as the Fabian Colonial Bureau, or the Movement for Colonial Freedom.

In 1966 two military coups were executed in Nigeria, upsetting a tenuous political balance between ethnically different regions and unleashing bitter tribal antagonism. In the first coup, in January, politicians and soldiers primarily of Northern origin lost their lives, and Major-Gen. J. T. U. Aguiyi-Ironsi, an Ibo from the Eastern Region, acceded to power. In the second coup, in July, mainly Eastern officers and soldiers died, and Lt.-Col. (now Major-Gen.) Yakubu Gowon, a minority-tribe Northerner, became Head of State. Because the years before and after independence in 1960 had witnessed scarring interregional rivalries for dominion over Nigeria, the coups were regarded as a continuation of these struggles.1

In the presidential and parliamentary elections held on 7–8 December 1994, the South West Africa People's Organisation (Swapo) was able to build on its achievements in the 1992 regional elections and win a two-thirds majority in the National Assembly. Against the larger-than-life father-figure of President Sam Nujoma, the opposition never really had a chance and lost 12 seats. A comparison of the results of the 1989 and 1994 elections reveals only a small decline in the ballots cast for Swapo as against a great loss of support for the opposition parties, mainly because the sharp drop in the number who voted was at their expense.

The constitutional development of Nigeria which started under the British occupation has been marked by two fundamental principles: the decision to set the political evolution of the country on a federal basis, and the effort, far less successful, to integrate the traditional institutions into a modern political system. This second principle will be the subject of this article, which I hope will also shed some light on the complex relationships between tradition and modernity, and thus show the importance of ‘primordial loyalties’ in political life.

The phenomenon of increasing centralisation of governmental authority is often discussed in the development literature, yet there has been little specific, quantitative research in this area. In this short article I hope to make an analysis of the centralisation phenomenon in Nigeria's development, based on such research, using the evolution of the federal fiscal arrangements as a case-study.

While independence in West Africa focused academic attention on political parties, the proliferation of military régimes in the late 1960s– by 1970, seven West African countries had experienced military rule — brought two other institutions into prominence: the military and civil bureaucracies. This article seeks to throw some light on the place of the civil bureaucracy in Senegal through a study of the role of bureaucrats in the country's political process.

It is reasonable to assume that violence is a common recurring condition in all parts of the world, during all periods of history, and at all stages of social development. Yet there is not a single, compelling theory that specifies, even crudely, a comprehensive causal model of political violence.1 The reason, as C. N. Cnudde points out, is ‘that the processes which bring about change in a unit as vast as a nation are much more complex than any single theory predicts’.2 This complexity of the process has not, however, hindered the growth of scholarly literature. On the contrary, social scientists, despite certain theoretical and methodological difficulties, have subjected this relatively uncharted area to further exploration.

What many prominent Afrikaners heralded as a new era of independence began on 6 October 1960, when a referendum was held to determine whether or not the populace wished South Africa to become a republic. As in virtually all other aspects of national political action, only Whites could voice their opinion via the ballot. Supported by the largely Afrikaner Nationalist Party and opposed by the predominantly English-stock United Party, the referendum, passed by approximately 850,000 to 776,000 votes, probably constituted one of the best indices of the relative strength of Afrikaner and non-Afrikaner elements among South Africa's ruling White polity.1 This dichotomy within the White elite and the friction which still sustains it have their roots in the late nineteenth century, when the Briton vanquished the Boer. Now, the situation has largely reversed itself while the animosities remain.

Since the end of World War II there has been a marked change in at least the emphasis in economic writing. The history of economic theory seems to be studded with controversy; successive writers overthrow their predecessors, and the problem is not made easier by the tendency of the various schools each to claim to have discovered universal truths. In perspective, it is more sensible to see how each major writer or school has attempted to grapple with the problems of the day. What was said was generally illuminating but the principles drawn up were not necessarilly relevant, and were sometimes downright misleading, in relation to another period or another group of countries.1 Nevertheless, each writer how much Karl Marx owed to Adam Smith and Ricardo. At a very different time, J. M. Keynes deliberatelly attempted to demonstrate how misleading ffro the problems of the 'thirties in the developed western world was the system evolved in the preceding century. Although he was clearly right, it is not difficult to discern the extent to which he was a pupil of Alfred Marshall.

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.

Young people are among the most severely impacted by conflict and as such many post-conflict initiatives are aimed at assisting them. Yet the impacts of these initiatives on young people's ability to successfully overcome the adversity they faced during conflict are not fully understood. This paper attempts to examine these impacts by conceptualising post-conflict initiatives as enmeshed within young people's social environments. It argues that post-conflict initiatives are intimately connected to broader processes of exclusion from social systems such as the family. While these systems had previously served to protect young people against adversity, conflict and post-conflict initiatives have disrupted their ability to continue this mission. In particular, the structure and function of the family system are examined to demonstrate the types of disruptions that have taken place that have ultimately negatively impacted the landscape in which young people develop.

Unlike many other African countries, Liberia is endowed with an impressive capacity for rapid economic development. Not only are her natural resources rich enough to finance this, but in relation to her population they are, indeed, capable of ensuring unimpeded growth in her output per capita.1 This article deals with Liberia's development during the last two decades. It shows the marked and rapid growth in the product of her economy, and how this has yielded a subtle and gradual improvement in the life of her people.