On 11 November 1965 the Rhodesian Front Government of Mr Ian Smith unilaterally declared Rhodesia to be independent of the residual jurisdiction of the United Kingdom.

The British Government understandably regarded U.D.I, as illegal and unacceptable, and sought ways to terminate the rule of Smith's party. In the absence of an internal uprising, the British Government, having eschewed the use of force, resorted to a policy of economic sanctions to effect the desired political and social changes. These were intended to affect incomes, employment, and economic activity generally, so as to generate dissent and disaffection among the white population, who, it was hoped, would either emigrate or force a return to legality, the negotiating table, and progress towards a mutually acceptable form of independence.

The origins of African political consciousness in Southern Africa can be traced back to the first half of the nineteenth century, to the impact of the Christian missions and to the development of a non-racial constitution in the Cape. As the century progressed, mission-educated Africans came to exercise a limited but real influence within Cape politics, and the Native policy of that Colony was seen to contrast favourably with those policies developing in the Boer Republics and Natal. By the turn of the century a new African élite had emerged, committed to non-racial ideals gleaned from Christianity and supported by the theory, and to some extent the practice, of Cape politics.

On St Patrick's Day 1967 Sierra Leone went to the polls to elect a new parliament. Four days later, on 21 March, Brigadier David Lansana, head of the Sierra Leone army, seized power. After two more days, on 23 March, Lansana was repudiated by a group of senior army officers; this second coup was followed by the creation of a National Reformation Council, including five army officers and two senior police officials, which was to take control of the government. Almost the last multi-party democracy in independent black Africa had come to an end, cancelling the first peaceful change of government through the ballot-box. Lansana's action was in some respects less defensible than Ian Smith's U.D.I. in Rhodesia. Smith acted against the presumed wishes of a majority of Rhodesians; Lansana acted against the majority wish which had just been expressed. Smith did not, within minutes of taking power, send troops to fire on protesting crowds in the streets of the capital.

Situated side by side on the west coast of Africa, of similar size, and having similar national incomes per capita and capacity for development at independence, Ghana and the Ivory Coast present marked contrasts in the development of both agriculture and industry.1 Ghanaian politicians led the African independence movement, with Ghana receiving independence in 1957. The Ivory Coast was granted independence in 1960 with little indigenous effort. In the early years of independence Ghana welcomed aid and technical assistance from both private and government sources in the west, but after 1961 turned more and more to the Communist world and a philosophy of socialisation of agriculture and industry.2 During the five-year period from 1961 until Nkrumah was overthrown in early 1966, the development emphasis was on state farms and factories: 125 of the former were established by the State Farms Corporation, 84 by the Workers' Brigade and Young Farmers' League, and 870 by the co-operatives.

The spirit of geographical exploration in Africa is historically linked both to science as a social commitment and to anti-science as an intellectual rebellion. This article is a reflection on this basic ambivalence in the meaning and philosophical implications of a transient episode in African history. What needs to be remembered is that men cast in certain roles, such as explorers, become not merely historical figures but also intellectual symbols. I leave it to the historians to study the explorers as figures in history, being here concerned with them as symbols in thought. What have these men and their activities meant in the interplay of ideas between Europe and Africa? What impact have they had on African self-consciousness? What is their place in the evolution of the scientific spirit in Africa? What bearing do they have on the quest for a scientific approach to the study of Africa's past? These questions are, indeed, too large to be adequately handled in a short article. But they need to be asked, and may thus help to define its context.

This article presents the hypothesis that there has developed in Africa in recent years a group of practices which constitutes a new pattern, to be called here ‘crude private neo-imperialism’. This term refers to unprincipled exploitation by some foreign firms of African governments that establish government-controlled, directly productive enterprises in an effort to accelerate economic development. The pattern referred to is ‘crude’ in that it involves outright dishonesty or hoodwinkery. It is ‘private’ in that the exploitative practices are carried on by private companies rather than by governments (although the latter have frequently given tacit and even explicit support). It is imperialism or ‘neo-imperialism’ in that the practices constitute not simply a series of similar incidents but a general phenomenon attributable to substantial contemporary causes.

‘The time has come’, writes James S. Coleman, ‘to recognize the professional respectability as well as the practical essentiality of the ancient and honorable hybrid discipline of political economy.’1 Such an approach to the study of developing countries is as timely as it is prudent. This article attempts to apply the approach of political economy to the question of elite recruitment, the process by which individuals are selected and assigned to strategic, political, and administrative roles.2 It seeks to examine recruitment as a conflict of interests facing decision- makers in Kenya. Such a task seems most meaningfully handled by enlarging the boundaries under examination to include recruitment of the élite who are to manage Kenya's economy as well as its political structure. This method of analysis leads almost inevitably, under Kenyan circumstances, to a discussion of the crucial issue of resource allocation, for the priorities established in expenditure patterns are of direct relevance to the opportunity for members of various ethnic groups to compete in the market place for political and economic positions.

The past two years, 1968–9, have seen the publication of a significant handful of economic textbooks, designed for first-year university students in Africa. Their specific aims, their precise range, and their technical quality naturally vary widely; but the important thing is that they have been published at all. This marks the culmination of a long, slow revolution, since the time when the then University College of the Gold Coast began to teach economics in 1949–50, following unmodified London syllabuses. There seemed to be no anxiety to work out any appropriate local substitute for papers in such topics as British industrial history, although this was possible under the regulations; and one of the lecturers told me, ‘There is no need for an African textbook— economic principles are the same all over the world.’