Africa's rôle in the international economic order during the last five years has been changing, if in any direction, for the worse. The impact of African statesmen in the negotiations for a new order has been marginal, despite the symbolic presence of General Obasanjo from Nigeria at the Jamaica summit of January 1979. Yet in many quarters, these trends have not been recognised for the vital sign they are: symptoms of the weakness of African states in the creation of new institutions to govern our fragmented international economic system.

In the newly developing countries, major aspects of economic organisation are subject to foreign control. The citizens and governments of such countries learn to live with the effects of pervasive economic dependence upon the industrial powers. Foreign governments and businessmen often determine the rate and scope of local capital investment, the development and use of economic resources, the composition and direction of external trade.

It is now close to five years since a revolution spearheaded by the Ethiopian working class, students, and an assortment of petty-bourgeois elements, overthrew the monarchy of Emperor Haile Selassie I, Elect of God, King of Kings, and the Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah. With the Emperor has gone the archaic feudal land system which dominated nearly all aspects of the entire Ethiopian society. Gone too is the feudal aristocracy and the nascent national bourgeoisie which clung tenaciously to the imperial coat-tails with unusual political myopia to the very end.

To speak of international co-operation and development is to speak of the past no less than the present – and of the future also. Indeed, a thin line divides evaluation of the past from analysis of the present, and both from prospects for the future. Let me start with the element of continuum.

The Limits To Political Independence

It is in man's nature that each generation in turn reflects and inaugurates change. But the character and pace of change are never constant, and there are times when human needs demand that it proceed with unusual urgency. It is in such a time that we live; indeed, already, none of us live any longer in the kind of world into which we were born. Nor any university for that matter. And the rhythm of change is actually gaining momentum.

Even those who do not see the struggle between capital and labour as necessarily antagonistic in a capitalist economy, recognise that it represents one of the most critical areas of potential conflict. This must be analysed by those who wish to study industrial relations and to understand class struggle. Furthermore, the complexity of issues involved is such that people with the most divergent perspectives have often found themselves emphasising the same facts to achieve very different objectives.

The ability of technological advancement to diversify the means of political control available to the state is a distinctive feature of modern life. Today, with the exception of the most underdeveloped and brutal régimes, the overt use of state force is complemented by a variety of control techniques, some so oblique as to defy detection even by the groups they are designed to regulate or repress. South Africa's stalled revolution, the subject of considerable concern to many analysts, is clearly not attributable to black acceptance of the present system, nor for that matter is it simply the result of the effectiveness with which the white minority has applied the more blatantly violent and directly coercive means of domination.1

The guns have again gone silent in Zaïre. The second war — dubbed Shaba II — in the key mining town of Kolwezi during May 1978, seems to have faded away as rapidly as it started, and has stopped making headlines around the world. However, in its wake, it has left a bitter taste in many mouths. In less than 15 months since Shaba I in March 1977, western intervention – spearheaded this time by French légionnaires and Belgian paratroopers – again pulled the tottering régime of President Mobutu Sese Seko back from the brink. The net result of this military intervention in Zaïre has been to keep Mobutu more firmly entrenched in power than ever.

What, if anything, should be done about the rapidly mounting external debt of African and other Third-World countries? This question, prominent within the agenda of U.N.C.T.A.D. 5, is inseparable from the broader problem of what to do about the structure and performance of the global economy which, based on an international division of labour, puts numerous African countries in a situation where they experience acute and chronic deficits and unfavourable terms of trade. The accumulation of outstanding debt, and the concurrent obligation to meet growing service payments, is the result of that structure and process.

During the last few inflation-ridden years many countries have experienced a severe crisis of industrial relations as workers tried, through collective action, to preserve their living standards against the pressure of rising prices. But Tanzania stands as a conspicuous example of one country where, during the 1970s, strikes seem virtually to have disappeared, as may be seen from Table I.1 It is true that the Tanzanian definition of a strike excludes disputes lasting less than one day; and it is also true that there have been occasions since 1972 when workers have ‘downed tools’ for brief protest periods. But the lack of reported strikes in Tanzania is not a statistical illusion. The Labour Officers of the Ministry of Labour and Social Welfare keep a close watch on the state of industrial relations, and these occurrences are known to and are reported by them, as is shown by their recording of three strikes in 1977. This last fact also demonstrates that strikes can still occur in Tanzania.

During the last decade or so there has been considerable interest in the nature and effects of protection policies on the economic performance of developing countries, and a number of attempts have been made to measure the levels of protection afforded local activities. It is, of course, desirable that such studies should take adequate account of the system of protection in its entirety, and this includes a consideration of direct (i.e. quantitative) as well as indirect (i.e. tariff) restrictions of imports.

This study has two main objectives: to draw a map of the perceptions of Ivoirien students about aspects of U.S. policy towards Africa, and to discover response deviations which coincide with, and hence may be attributable to, (1) school and class attended, (2) sex, age, religion, and ethnic group, and (3) sources of information about world events.

Data were gathered during 1976 through a questionnaire administered to 327 Ivoirien students, 245 of whom were at the Université d'Abidjan and 82 at the École nationale d'administration.1 They were given a random list of 22 questions and asked to indicate their approval, opposition, or lack of familiarity. Later 18 questions were grouped into four categories:

The purpose of this article is to elucidate the factors underlying the rise of political opposition against the régime of Mobutu Sese Seko, and this should help clarify the background to the Shaba wars of 1977–8. The major argument is that these factors are intimately related to two major aspects of a continuous political crisis in Zaïre today, namely: the democratic struggle against Mobutu's dictatorship and reign of terror, and the popular movement for a ‘second independence’. In order to substantiate this argument, the article traces the growth of organised opposition to four interrelated phenomena: (1) the ideological split in the anti-colonial nationalist movement between ‘radicals’ and ‘moderates’, (2) the leadership struggle among the moderates themselves, (3) the neo-colonial character and tasks of the post-colonial state, and (4) the autocratic nature of Mobutu's oppressive rule.

Most Africans in Kenya have always lived and worked on the land, and until fairly recently their land-tenure arrangements have been governed by customary law. Colonial administrators were divided about the desirability of granting individual titles to African farmers, and concentrated their efforts on persuading them to plant cash-crops, to fight soil erosion and, where necessary, to consolidate their holdings. It was only in the mid-1950s, when large-scale compulsory land consolidation schemes were initiated in the Kikuyu Land Unit, that serious thought was given to the nature of the title which the owner of a consolidated holding would acquire.1 The East Africa Royal Commission advocated the adjudication and registration of individual titles in suitable areas,2 and eventually a working party was appointed to consider what legislation would be necessary to implement this recommendation. As a result of its report,3 a system of registration of title based on the English model was introduced. Once the processes of adjudicacation and consolidation have been completed, the title of the owner is registered and, where appropriate, any interests not amounting to ownership are also entered on the Land Register. The land thereupon ceases to be subject to customary law,4 and is governed instead by the complete code of substantive law – based broadly on English law – which is contained today in the Registered Land Act, 1963.

At least since the beginning of this century, access to education has been the proximate determinant of class differentiation in Tanzania, and in much of Africa. Despite several initiatives to overcome this legacy of European rule, perhaps more sharply focused in Tanzania than in many other African countries, education and class situation continue to be firmly linked.

This article analyses the nature of ideology in Nigeria and relates ideological competition to conflict between federal and local (especially urban) interests. It is argued that two strong ideologies exist: nationalism and populism. These two perspectives provide competing justifications for authority, and reflect the contradictory interests held by local-urban politicians and by the functional élites that dominate federal politics.

For two decades African countries have experienced rising Soviet interest and involvement in their internal affairs. Recent events in Angola, Uganda, and Ethiopia have particularly alarmed many observers. Today the debate continues in the news media and in academic circles as to the nature of Soviet behaviour. Regrettably, as much misinformation as fact seems to confound the issue.

Economic dependence and cultural diversity are the bedrock upon which the élites of ex-colonial states attempt to construct a functioning state apparatus, a viable economy, and a sense of nationhood to surround and enshrine the emergent order. The achievement of national integration is sought in language and education policies, cultural and ideological programmes, and the structuring of access to – and distribution of – available resources. It is basically for this reason that a number of governments in the Third World require their highly educated youth to spend a year of service to the nation after they leave the university. Hence the National Youth Service Corps in Nigeria, which started operating in 1973, amidst great publicity, and has since become an established part of governmental and student planning. By mid-1979 about 46,000 had passed through the programme, serving the nation in a variety of jobs, mainly as teachers, before being employed in either the private or public sector.

The shrinking political arena in Africa,1 caused by the authoritarian practices of presidential monarchs, has more often than not undermined the process of legitimation, as those who have not ‘fallen into things’ resort to unconstitutional means to gain access to political and economic kingdoms. Hitherto, political competition has become a raw power struggle, partly as a result of the absence of stable institutions for channelling and ordering politics,2 and partly because political leadership is so divided that it has failed to give form to statecraft. The failure of the first generation of African politicians has consequently encouraged the military to intervene and to sack them. But the African army has also experienced divisions and factions. Its record has not been impressive. Thus, in most African countries, the political situation has deteriorated progressively to praetorianism.3

This article compares the relative size and industrial distribution of artisanal manufacturing and service enterprises in Yaoundé and Accra, the capital cities of Cameroun and Ghana. The primary purpose is to provide evidence on the hypothesis that the characteristics of small-scale production are closely related to the level of development and industrialisation, and therefore likely to be similar in countries at similar levels elsewhere. The comparison is also used to highlight some operational problems of defining, measuring, and assisting ‘artisanal’ or ‘smallscale’ activities.

Because there is growing evidence of interest in increasing the level and scope of activities in family planning programmes in sub-Saharan Africa, we believe that it is important to examine some of the assumptions under which these are being undertaken. In what is one of the poorest areas of the world, particularly in terms of health resources and educational facilities, with enormous gaps of trained personnel in both, the programmes already in existence have not been a notable success. Yet a rapidly expanding population quickly outpaces what efforts have been made in health and education, and there is now a growing concern that food supplies, particularly in West Africa, may soon enter a period of chronic shortage.