In 1961, soon after the beginning of the first United Nations Development Decade, a conference of African Ministers of Education was convened by Unesco. The meeting resolved, inter alia, that by the year 1980 primary schooling throughout the continent should be ‘universal, compulsory and free’.1 As we have now reached that date, it is appropriate to review progress. A few countries have achieved the goal, but many others have fallen short. This article will examine the experience of the last two decades, and assess its implications for ultimate objectives and the strategies for achieving them. Despite national policy variations and divergent social and economic conditions, instructive overall patterns may be discerned.

In the last few years there has been a growing interest in that very considerable and hitherto mostly unrecorded part of the economic life of the Third World which flourishes outside the state and foreign-owned medium and large-scale concerns. This great mass of non-enumerated enterprises and activities is a major source of employment and production. For the purpose of this article, it will be argued that many of those undertaking research in this sector can be regarded as belonging to one or other of two fairly distinct schools of thought formed by (1) a number of officials from the International Labour Organisation, the World Bank, and other international and government agencies, as well as some purely academic writers,1 and (2) the majority of social scientists attached to the British Sociological Association Development Group, some of whom operate to a greater or lesser extent within a Marxian or neo-Marxian perspective.2 For purposes of abbreviation only, these will be referred to as the ‘I.L.O.’ and the ‘Radical’ groups.

In his classic study of decentralisation and development, Henry Maddick argued that economic growth and social modernisation depend in part on the ability of Third-World govenments to diffuse responsibility for development planning and administration, to expand participation in economic activities, and to promote new centres of creativity within society. Over-concentration of administrative authority stifles development, Maddick insisted; it leads to waste and corruption, delays action, and creates irrational and inefficient management practices, the costs of which developing countries cannot afford.1 To illustrate his point, Maddick cited the effects of the centralised supply system in the Sudan in the late 1950s, through which ‘shoes made in Fasher were sent 400 miles by rail to Khartoum where the whole shoe supply was concentrated. When Fasher wanted shoes for school children and government personnel it had to send to Khartoum for them.’ He also noted that school desks and equipment for the provincial city of Juba had to be ordered from Khartoum, which was 900 miles away and connected only by inefficient river transport, even though the wood from which the furniture was made originally came from Juba.2

Theories of modernisation and social change have been increasingly challenged during the past decade by events in the Middle East and other areas of the developing world. Leaders of oil-rich nations are choosing to industrialise but not to westernise, and Islamic revivals are shaping new patterns of political and social development. For example, improvements in female status can no longer be regarded as the inevitable concomitants of industrialisation; to the contrary, gender inequality may actually be exacerbated by national resurgences of religious and cultural traditions which often accompany planned social change.1

Foreign investment in South Africa during the past 20 years has been subject to criticism form several diverse schools of thought, ranging from those who believe it has contributed to country's economic growth without improving the condition of the black workers, to those who maintain that – at best – apartheid has been modernised rather than fundamentally changed.

Today the focus of attention has shifted to collective bargaining and trade union rights, to the action that can be taken on their own behalf by the ecomomically underprivileged and the politically dispossessed, and to the assistance which foreign-owned companies have been given in improving the terms and conditions of employment of their own non-white employees by the codes of conduct that have quite recently been adopted by their own governments.

People of quite diverse social position and perspective have turned to economic growth as a source of political change in South Africa. Contained within the concept of growth, they maintain, are processes — capital accumulation and class formation, business enterprise and markets, changing skill and capital requirements – that, at the very least, allow some blacks a more secure and higher living standard, that may bring greater equality between the races, or more profoundly, confound traditional racial lines and privileges of quite diverse social position and perspective have turned to economic growth as a source of political change in South Africa. Contained within the concept of growth, they maintain, are processes — capital accumulation and class formation, business enterprise and markets, changing skill and capital requirements – that, at the very least, allow some blacks a more secure and higher living standard, that may bring greater equality between the races, or more profoundly, confound traditional racial lines and privileges. Indeed, some argue that growth undermines the foundations of the racial state. Many of those who posit a relationship between economics and politics, take the next logical step: supporting actions, including foreign investment, that foster economic growth and, presumably, political change in South Africa.