‘Late colonialism’ is a widely used concept in African, colonial, and imperial history and neighbouring fields. It evokes a particular chronological moment, but also suggests distinctive, novel processes of colonial governance. The concept has been used to interrogate and explain different trajectories of late colonial governance and decolonisation, addressing distinct chronologies and specific, but comparable, historical dynamics associated with the political disintegration of European colonial empires. What – if anything – characterised ‘late colonialism’ across Africa? What were the roots and genealogies of late colonial ideas and practices? And what were the connections and variations between late colonialism within, and across, African territories and regions? How can we think about them in a comparative, meaningful way? This special issue seeks to interrogate and elucidate the concept of ‘late colonialisms’ in Africa, contributing to debates around these questions. Engaging with varying chronologies, geographies, themes, and case studies, this collection of texts explores the plurality of idioms and repertoires that shaped late colonialisms in Africa, from political and cultural imaginaries and practices to security and developmental policies.

The idea of a ‘late colonial state’ has been surprisingly durable. It is also the case that the meaning and significance of decolonisation – indeed our understanding of when it took place and how long it lasted – has been widened and deepened. We no longer tend to think of it as a purely political let alone constitutional event, but as a much broader shift in the relations between the ‘colonial world’ and its (former) masters and as having many more dimensions: economic, cultural, demographic among them. Needless to say, we are no closer to an agreed explanation than we were twenty-five or fifty years ago: the primacy of nationalist resistance, or of metropolitan politics or of geopolitical change still have their adherents even if it was the ricochet effect of all three on each other that offers the most plausible analysis. However, regardless of which account is favoured it seems clear that the nature of the ‘end game’ of the colonial state is the best place in which to search for answers. The late colonial state still has work to do.

Community development represents the synthesis of post-war British colonial development policy. Officially used for the first time in 1948, in Arthur Creech Jones’ definition community development was a movement based on the active participation and cooperation of local community members promoting a better life for the community, encompassing all forms of improvement in the areas of agriculture, public health and sanitation, infant and maternal welfare, and the spread of literacy. The main purpose of this article is not to delve into the community development projects themselves but to discuss the ways this concept was implemented, used, and promoted by Britain in two different spaces: the colonies and the United Nations. These two contexts are pivotal for the promotion of the post-war British colonial rhetoric. In the colonies, British colonial discourse pursued two intertwined goals: on the one hand, the relegitimisation of the colonial empire and, on the other, the preparation of the transition to independence in order to maintain an influence that would replace political rule and physical presence. The United Nations were used instead by the British as an arena to internationalise their colonial policy and establish their legitimisation.

This article looks at the final years of French colonial rule in Dahomey through the lens of development policies concerning the territory’s main resource: the oil palm tree. It examines how the Dahomean leaders dealt with the issue of development once the Loi Cadre allowed them to have a say in the matter. I argue that the Dahomeans were crucial in finding new development strategies even before formal independence. It also tries to assess the extent to which these solutions followed or departed from previous colonial attempts. The article therefore first describes the main features of colonial oil palm development in Dahomey since the end of the Second World War. Second, it depicts how Dahomean leaders rethought the development approach and why they found in the “syndicate association” the institutional tool to implement it. Finally, it argues that this solution, which combined features of Soviet and Israeli cooperatives with approaches specific to African socialism, was different from any other option previously considered by the colonial administration. By analysing late colonialism from a non-French perspective, this article argues that the Africans were no less crucial actors than the Europeans in the making of the late colonial state.

This paper examines the role of big business as the linchpin of late colonialism in Rhodesia (colonial Zimbabwe) during its Unilateral Declaration of Independence (UDI) years between 1966 and 1979. After Rhodesia’s rebellion against Britain in 1965, London and the world, through the United Nations, responded by imposing sanctions against Salisbury, hoping to bring it to legality quickly. However, Rhodesia survived the expected impact of sanctions until its demise in 1979. Scholarship has accounted for this survival in various dimensions, emphasising the role of white solidarity/redoubt in the region, manipulation of the market and sanction busting or breach by friendly states and businesses. Regarding sanction busting, less accounted for are the other major sanction busters, except for well-known governments of Portugal, South Africa, and the USA, as well as British and South African oil firms. Using primary documents from British archives and intelligence work, this paper shows the specific companies that were the raison d’etre of late colonialism and the British government’s response and actions against these firms. The paper argues that by acting as conduits for Rhodesia’s access to international markets, British firms kept its economy going, thereby propping up and propelling the Rhodesian rebellion, paying and sustaining late colonial rule, and delaying the decolonisation of Rhodesia. The paper further shows the duplicity and indecisiveness of the British government in dealing with the Rhodesian problem, thus elongating settler rule. In doing so, the paper thus contributes to the historiography of the politics and economics of late colonialism and the role of business in decolonisation in Southern Africa.

This article suggests that the ‘self-destruct’ phase of the late-colonial state was marked by rival projects to construct a durable political settlement in the face of the divisions wrought by development initiatives and security policy. A triangular contest between outgoing colonial administrators, a new generation of educated moderate nationalists, and those the colonial state pejoratively called ‘bush politicians,’ marked the twilight years of colonial rule. As the case of Nyeri District in Central Kenya, still reeling from the Mau Mau Uprising, indicates, these conflicts regularly concerned the meaning of post-conflict justice and the terms on which a community could be reconciled. The work of the Nyeri Democratic Party is illustrative, resisting disempowerment in the transition to independence and demanding that much more be done to heal the breaches wrought by colonial violence. This period laid the groundwork for a competitive post-colonial political arena, albeit underpinned by the sometimes dangerous rhetoric of ethnic unity. Using official documents from Kenyan and British archives, especially those in the previously closed Migrated Archive, this article illustrates the mutual bargaining that formed the political settlement in post-colonial Central Kenya.

This article examines debates about the future of health coordination between French African colonies in the era of decolonisation. These debates illuminate tensions over the future of French doctors in Africa, the role of international organisations, and the meaning of colonial borders for public health. In the late 1950s, French officials sought to reformulate inter-territorial colonial medical structures in a way that could be sustained with African independence, resulting by the 1960s in the creation of new West and Central African regional health organisations. Newly appointed African health ministers supported these organisations for various reasons, including sharing costs of medical infrastructure and the idea of a French debt that could be addressed through technical assistance. Both French and African health officials in turn naturalised the idea of post-colonial health coordination between former French colonies, regardless of shared borders with other African states. Both French and African health officials used the rhetoric of “disease knows no borders” to engage in a process of health “region-making,” although the outcome was health coordination rooted less in epidemiological realities than colonial histories. Late colonialism catalysed change in public health and medicine that mirrored broader political developments but also produced distinct discourses, agendas, and institutions.

This article considers the ambivalence of late colonial race politics in France and French Africa through the life and work of celebrated ethnographic filmmaker and pioneer of cinéma vérité, Jean Rouch (1917- 2004). Part of a special issue on late colonialism in Africa, this study shifts the focus from the continent itself to the legacies of late colonialism in Africa for race relations in postcolonial Europe.

This paper focuses on diplomatic training as a site for exploring the tensions in late colonialism around sovereignty and self-government. Training for the diplomats of soon to be independent states was understood by imperial governments as an ambiguous issue in this period immediately pre-independence: it offered the potential for the former metropole to sustain power and influence within a rapidly changing world, whilst at the same time challenging the very foundations of imperialism by empowering the diplomats of soon to be independent African states. Drawing on archives in France, the UK, and the US, as well as a newly recorded oral history interview with one of the first cohort of Ghanaian trainees, we focus on the development of diplomatic training from ad hoc responses to requests to a more formalised programmes provided by imperial powers and the United States, and tensions and competition between providers and over the content of the courses. We focus primarily on the Gold Coast/Ghana, contextualised within wider experiences of African colonies in both the British and French empires. We demonstrate that training for diplomats provides novel insights into the temporalities, spatialities, and agency that characterised the late colonial state.

For a brief moment in the late-1950s, British policymakers and key African politicians shared a vison: an East African Federation of Kenya, Tanganyika, and Uganda. For British officials, one of the leading advantages would be transforming the colonial King’s African Rifles into a federal army. This aspect of the plans has rarely been recognised, but this article shows that British planning for the KAR became inextricably intertwined with federal thinking. Late colonialism was a time of alternative federal visions in addition to increased interventionism as British officials foresaw the end of colonial rule and sought to remake African institutions. A federal army was a key aim in such plans. This article argues that although no federation or federal army came into being, planning for them substantively shaped the military inheritance of the region at independence. Uganda and Tanganyika achieved independence with armies that were not fully autonomous, while Kenya took most of the shared colonial facilities. Thus, the article highlights the impact late colonial plans could have even when these did not come to fruition.

This article investigates the introduction of human rights reforms in late colonial Africa, a period defined by the disintegration of European colonial rule. While existing scholarship often attributes these reforms to European efforts to ensure a smooth transition to independence, foster post-colonial stability, and address post-war geopolitical challenges, such analyses frequently overlook the agency of indigenous nationalist leaders and anti-colonial activists. These groups perceived the reforms as strategically motivated maneuvers by departing colonial powers and engaged with them accordingly. Focusing on the decolonisation era in Africa, this study argues that both colonisers and the colonised approached human rights rhetoric primarily as a tool for pragmatic objectives rather than as an expression of ideological commitment to human rights norms. European powers framed these reforms as altruistic, yet their underlying motivations were rooted in political and economic interests. Conversely, African leaders appropriated human rights discourse to expose colonial hypocrisy and advance their political agendas. This engagement underscores the tension between universal human rights ideals and the pragmatic realities of political strategy (realpolitik) during a transformative period in the development of the international human rights framework. It also highlights how political calculations constrained the realization of universal human rights principles such as dignity, equality, and inalienability.

The fourteenth century Indian Ocean world saw a rapid increase in seaborne trade, which led to developing port cities and new centres of power. These port cities sometimes became the capitals of emergent states which broke away from the traditional pattern of landed states and established their own spheres of influence over land-and-sea realms. One such emergent state was the polity centred on Raigama and Kotte in southwestern Sri Lanka, which gained prominence in the region thanks to the port policies followed by its rulers, the Alakeshwara family. This research analyses the rise of this state in the context of the Indian Ocean custom of the ‘right of the port,’ which allowed merchant groups like the Alakeshwaras to establish taxation and sovereignty over an area. This also presents an alternative perspective from which the politics of the kingdoms of Sri Lanka can be reframed and understood, breaking away from the internal logic of ceremonial succession and historical inevitability.

This article discusses how the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO) shaped notions of rural life, rural community, and social reform in the context of South and Southeast Asian decolonisation. Building on scholarship analysing rural development either in term of continuities from the colonial era or as the result of specific circumstances after the Second World War, the argument here is that we can understand approaches to rural welfare after 1945 as the historical intersection of three factors: the rural specificities of decolonisation related to violence and mass displacement; FAO seeking relevance and legitimacy in the post-war order; and urban and rural elites objectifying rural life as a cornerstone of post-imperial nation-building. Empirically, the article analyses two (former) British colonies that experienced two different forms of decolonisation: territorial partition and imperial warfare. It relates these modes of decolonisation to the early formations of FAO’s rural expertise and argues that decolonisation was a structuring event for both local rural policy-making and the evolving international (rural) development agenda.

We carried out research into nineteen century Dutch logbooks, especially a series of naval logbooks kept at the National Archive in the Hague. It is voluminous archive, with its 500 metres containing an enormous amount of data. Our initial concern was meteorological data recorded in logbooks. We have digitized part of the archive, for six ships with a duration of about one hundred months, in order to reconstruct the climate of the past. Also in the process of this archival research, we became gradually aware of much wider and various implications this archive has as historical material. We decided to make our preliminary digitization open-access at the JCDP (Japan-Asia Climate Database Program) website. We hope that this will be more widely used by those who have historical concerns about maritime history, the history of environment in Asia and around Japanese seas, Dutch-Japanese relationships, and Dutch overseas history.