Cet article reconsidère les idées de John Janzen sur le consensus social et l'efficacité thérapeutique dans une structure médicale pluraliste, et réunit une approche sémantique et praxéologique à un cas prolongé d'affliction: celle d'un groupe et de ses responsables, qui étaient obliges de regarder la maladie et la mort en face, et qui réagissaient en essayant de trouver des stratégies pour regagner la santé. D'abord, on prétend qu'il faut comprendre à fond les représentations de l'étiologie, et qu'une expansion d'un point de vue sociologique et restaurateur trop borné soit absolêment nécessaire. Le groupe qui dirigerait la therapie gagnerait ainsi une connaissance plus approfondie, et multidimensionelle, des dynamiques qui produisaient le conflit ou le problème, aussi bien que de la méthode d'aider la victime. Le manque possible de consensus social parmi les membres du groupe diagnostique familial ne signiffe pas que la thérapie puisse être inefficace. II faut plutôt regarder le rituel thérapeutique comme un événement performatif ou une action de pro-cessus, un rituel qui se réalise au moyen de son développement temporel dans un procéde créateur de production signiff cative qui atteint pragmatiquement le but du rituel même.

This article deals with political culture in northern Cameroon. By analysing two happenings—the arrival of a Minister in his home town and his speech to the traditional elites—it shows how neopatrimonial politics is practised in a given locality. Important aspects of neopatrimonialism—such as the personal distribution of public resources and the conflict between different moral obligations which results in illusory appearances—are described and analysed. Yet the complexity of symbols, behaviour and metaphors outlined in these two happenings suggests that we have to go beyond the neopatrimonial model of thinking if we want to gain a better understanding of politics in Cameroon.

In Zanzibar, many cases in rural Islamic courts involve disputes about whether or not a divorce has taken place outside of court. Zanzibari men have the right to divorce their wives unilaterally through repudiation; and, because many such divorces take place out of the wife's presence, women interpret certain structural events associated with divorce as divorce even when there is no evidence of lawful repudiation. By going to court, women want to legitimize the events of divorce with a receipt of registered divorce. Although the Islamic judge will not validate alleged divorces without proof of repudiation, he does not dismiss the cases as simple misunderstandings. Rather, he stresses the preservation of the marriage through reframing the cases as disputes about marital rights and obligations. Women acknowledge this shift and move to assert their rights to request better maintenance or a court-ordered divorce.

Since the late 1960s, researchers have primarily regarded ethnicity as the result of increasing international relations, and thus often as a comparative phenomenon. Although this research has been immensely important for its critique of essentialist notions of ethnicity, analyses of the historically formed specificity of ethnicity have been somewhat neglected. In this article, using an example from Zimbabwe, the author highlights the internal dynamics of ethnicity. The article shows how people in southern Zimbabwe use various clan names, origins, and ‘castes’ in a practice of naming, and how this practice breaks the category Ndebele into parts. The author argues that instead of studying ethnic categories as unbreakable wholes, focusing on smaller units of analysis gives a more complex picture of ethnicity. This view challenges some more or less established truths on ethnicity deduced from comparative studies.

This article looks at three generations of choreographic performers in urban Senegal to examine the creative ways in which people develop their bodily skills, not only for the pleasure of innovation, but also to ‘make their way into the world’. In so doing, they produce new social spaces and engage with a multiplicity of existing ones. I suggest that this multiple engagement characterizes contemporary urban Africa, where social mobility is conceived of as multiplying the possibilities of building a decent life in spite of economic hardship. In West Africa, this is in continuity with a long history of social mobility achieved through travel and the acquisition of new skills. Through a multiple engagement with different genres, performers also experiment with new ways of producing choreographic work. At every juncture, the social spaces thus produced either intensify or reduce the connections with global spaces already laid out by previous generations.

This article takes a historical approach to argue that communal lands in Zimbabwe are a construct inherited from colonial days (prior to 1980) which governments in post-colonial Zimbabwe have found convenient to maintain rather than dismantle. The construct is not only a convenient framework for the delivery of collective consumption goods but in turn it enables the government to subtly use communal lands as a framework for social control, especially in terms of urban management. The continued existence of communal land areas and land rights also sustains processes of social control at the household level. However, these are issues that will not receive attention in land debates as long as the larger problem of redistribution of large-scale commercial farms remains unresolved.

Batswana contrast owning cars with owning houses: the first signals self-centred accomplishment and possibly deceptive status claims, and the second an investment in sociality. The tensions between individual accomplishment and social connectivity are long-standing in Botswana, and a close examination of cars and houses finds that each is tied up with both dimensions of self-making. The new materiality that envelopes Botswana, however, with rising incomes for some and a flood of consumer options, raises the stakes for both sides of this tension, yet also allows them to be resolved in social and emotional practice.

The nativist ideology of ivoirité of the 1990s generated brutal discriminatory policies against those labelled as ‘strangers’, especially Muslims. Reversing that perspective, this article focuses on the interface between religion and national identity in twentieth-century Côte d'Ivoire from within Muslim society. The argument is divided into two parts. The first puts forward the counter-hegemonic, patriotic-cum-cosmopolitan narratives that a new Muslim leadership formulated in order to write Islam into national history. The second focuses on grass-roots, demotic, day-to-day realities. It explores Muslim takes on belonging and alienation in practice, paying careful attention to the community's internal diversity. It shows how, over time, Ivorian Muslims have showcased varying degrees of cosmopolitan patriotism but also of their own, local xenophobia. The concluding section returns to the new Muslim leadership and its multifaceted endeavours to reconcile Muslim lived experiences with their cosmopolitan patriotic aspirations. The article ends with a short epilogue surveying the violent armed conflicts of the period 2002 to 2011 and how Muslims were a part of them.

Anthropological research was traditionally conducted by foreign researchers in ‘exotic’ places. However, the trend changed over the years due to various reasons such as less funding for research abroad, resistance from new independent states, and the realization that, after all, the ‘exotic’ could be found even ‘at home’. The research dynamics changed further when those who were studied earlier began to study their own. This paper is a reflection of my participatory observation in the 2009 bojale (girls’ initiation) revival ceremony of Bakgatla-baga-Kgafela in Botswana. I entered bojale with dual roles of initiate and participant observer for my research. My ethnographic research was among my own and I was expected to adhere to the ceremony's rules in the same way as the other initiates. The discussion reflects on my dual identity experiences and relationships during initiation in order to interrogate ethnography among one's own culture. I conclude that, even though being ‘at home’ has advantages such as less travelling requirements and easy rapport, it is a complex process when it involves sacred ceremonies such as bojale because of the societal obligations such as adherence to secrecy that the researcher is bound by during and after the research.

Le but de cet article est de montrer comment, dans le cas de l'ethnographie Bobo, la notion de systèmes de classification entre en relation avec la construction de la vie sociale, sans pourtant rigoureusement déterminer la conduite des gens. Les bobos du sud reconnaissent deux catégories de ligne de descendants, suivant la ligne paternelle et suivant la ligne maternelle où ils sont inclus par patrifiliation et matrifiliation. L'entree a lieu à la naissance et des dispositifs culturels existent si bien qu'il est difficile de changer ou de mal représenter cette identité. Pourtant les ensembles unilinéaires aboutissent rarement en groupements sociaux concrets. Des sections agnatiques peuvent s'unir pour former le noyau d'associations qui composent les groupes sociaux les plus en évidence de la vie politique et économique du village. A leur tour ces associations établissent de plus grandes conféderations, qui varient en puissance et en durée, fondées sur une histoire d'accords et d'intérêts politiques en commun. Toutes ces formes d'association sont rélisées sans que les sections les composant ne perdent leurs identités agnatiques individuelles. Cet article montre comment les terres et les offices des cultes importants, tels que le do et Kono peuvent être réclamés en se fondant sur n'importe lequel de ces principes d'organisation dans un jeu de politique qui remet implicitement en question les parties composantes des normes façonnant la vie communale.

In a recent number of Africa (October i960) I showed that a number of Zande cultivated plants must have been borrowed from other peoples and that others were probably borrowed too. The points there emphasized were: firstly, that the agricultural economy of the Azande is derived from many different sources; secondly, that the Azande themselves see it that way; and thirdly, that in the past it must have been much simpler than in recent times, leading us to suppose that there has probably been a connexion between bionomic development and political development. I now turn to a consideration of certain arts and crafts to show further that it is not only in the cultivation of plants that Zande culture is a complex of borrowed elements, as the people themselves are a complex of peoples of different ethnic origins, but also in their material culture generally. I do not attempt to cover all of their material culture, only some parts of it for illustration and as an indication of the extent to which it has been taken over from peoples absorbed into the original Mbomu stock or from neighbouring peoples.

Most Cewa believe that certain persons are witches (mfiti, sing, and pl.) who impoverish, harm, or kill their fellow beings by using destructive magic and by performing supernatural feats of various kinds. That they are greatly preoccupied with this belief and its various implications is shown by the frequency with which they attribute death and misfortune to witchcraft, and by their related tendency to take precautions against possible attacks by ‘witches’, e.g. by having their bodies and huts magically protected.

(1) Sr. Rita-Ferreira disagrees with the ‘cultural identification’ which I am said to make between Thonga and Chopi. I cannot imagine what he disagrees about since my text merely states that Thonga and Chopi are ‘ethno-linguistically related’, which is, of course, irrefutable. (2) He claims that I dismiss the principles of agnatic kinship solidarity and the obligation of senior sons on behalf of the welfare of junior sons. The reader is given the impression that I argue that such norms do not exist, when in fact, the only issue in the text is the extent to which actual behaviour corresponds to the ideal principles. Apparently, Rita-Ferreira is not acquainted with the concepts of ideal and actual culture. (3) He says that I do not hesitate to contradict Junod on point (2) while I give no evidence from other reliable sources. Those who have not seen my article will no doubt be surprised to learn that my evidence consists of citations and quotes from Junod. (4) Rita-Ferreira's readers cannot help but gain the impression that I am ignorant of the basic similarity between Thonga social organization and that of other South-eastern Bantu peoples. Nothing in my text entitles Sr. Rita-Ferreira to harbour such illusions, especially since the sources which he uses to correct me are to be found in my own list of references.

The effects of major changes in the social system on the mental state of individuals have been the subject of a recent controversy. Miss Ward (1956), in a paper discussing the significance of an alleged increase in the number of witch-finding cults in Ashanti, argued that this can be taken as evidence of a widespread rise in the general level of anxiety resulting from rapid structural changes. In a subsequent rejoinder Goody (1957) challenged not only the view that such cults have in fact become more numerous, but also the underlying assumption, shared by many social scientists, that rapid social change produces an emotional malaise in the people caught up in it.

In the present paper we shall describe the ways in which dreams are regarded by the members of a West African religious sect and explain how dreams figure in the social organization of the sect. Our point of departure will be largely sociological, and in this respect our study differs from most anthropological writings on dreams. The dream narrations which we are considering arise as much out of the social organization of the sect as from the psyche of the individuals. Furthermore, the narrations are public performances and are evaluated by members of the sect for the purpose of situating each other within the community of church members. The narrations are used by church members to demonstrate the depth of their religious commitment and to assist them in competing for key roles within the church. Thus dreams are important as indicators of a person's worth and as instruments of social mobility. Following Charsley's treatment of dreams in a Ugandan independent church we will not focus on the use of dreams as a ‘privileged channel of insight into the culture’ (1973: 244), although the themes and symbols which are described in the narratives can indeed reveal much about the beliefs of church members and suggest ways in which their beliefs might guide their behaviour. It is appropriate to discuss some of these themes and symbols en route to our objective, and in doing so it will be possible to shed some light on the teachings of the sect and on the mentality of many of its members. It is important to state, however, that the primary data of this study are not accounts of dreams such as those that might be told privately to an analyst or an ethnographer. Rather they are mostly accounts which people present in public at church services. They are sometimes retold, embellished and circulated throughout the community of church members. Thus the data are speech events which are often used instrumentally by the narrator, sometimes for the purpose of ennobling the self and sometimes for the purpose of praising the sect. This means that one would have to question the authenticity of the narratives if one were to use them as windows into the minds of church members. We are on safer ground if we view the narratives of dreams as public performances which are patterned in accordance with the expectations of the church community and which have an effect on social action within that community.

This paper is an examination of the dynamics of the kanyalangkafo, a cross-cultural fertility association. It first examines the changing economic and social environment of the Mandinka to clarify the factors relevant to the spread and acceptance of the fertility association.

The second part of the paper describes the history and organization of the association.

In the last part of the paper, the activities of the association and the ritually inverted sexual behaviour of its members are analyzed. Social integration is shown to be brought about in the presence of and partly because of the association and its activities. The integrative results include the manner in which the association organizes women and the social environment within which associational behaviour occurs. Models stemming from analyses of ritually inverted sexual behaviour are found to be generally supported by data from the Mandinka case.

A Sketch of two incidents recorded in my field notes will serve to introduce the subject of this paper.

1. Nanyuki and his wife Mwango were completing their marriage by the enyangi ceremony. I was to see the second of the major sacrifices, which takes place at the husband's homestead. A day after the appointed time, Nanyuki informed me that everything was being held up. Mwango, he said, refused to go on unless he gave her a he-goat. He had tried all day in vain to get her one; none of his neighbours wanted to barter, and he could not afford money. I almost suspected a device for putting me off and preventing me from being present at the ceremony. Why should Nanyuki, who, I knew, was eager to get back to work in his swamp garden, allow his plans to be upset by Mwango's whim? However, his anxiety and exasperation seemed genuine enough; he told me that he could not think what to do, and would have to consult Kebaso, his dead father's brother.

The following notes are based mainly on information collected by the writer at Mbilwi (‘Sibasa’) from members of Mphaphuli's tribe, and at Tshakhuma (‘Tshakoma’) from members of Madzivhandila's tribe, and supplemented elsewhere in the Venda area. Obviously, over such a large region, a number of variations from the norm here indicated may be expected to exist; but it is thought that what is here given represents in substance, if not in all details, Venda law and custom in respect of this sphere of this people's life

The present account of Luvale female puberty rites has a twofold object. Firstly to provide a short factual description of the ritual, on which existing information is scanty. Data from the Luvale provide the basis of the present notes, but occasional reference is made to the allied tribes. Secondly an attempt is made to estimate how far the rites have been affected by present-day influences.

The Louedu of the NE. Transvaal are patrilineal and marriage, which is patrilocal, involves (as it does among other S. Bantu tribes) the transfer of munywalo. This,institution has been variously interpreted as the legalization of the marriage, as a guarantee of a wife's status or good behaviour, and in terms of compensation, economic or ritual. But these interpretations are rather like parodies in which the emphasis on the features mentioned is not so much wrong as a caricature. We have, often complacently, projected our own values and motivations as universally valid. Much might be said in favour of such a caricature, if it is infused with the life of a character in Dickens, especially when the purpose has been to ennoble an institution which many regard as degrading. The kindly cartoon is better than the derogatory stereotype. It would, however, be better still if we could accommodate ourselves to a system in which the social arrangements are incommensurable with our own. More specifically, and that is the purpose of this article, we might try to discover the real place of munywalo in the social system. The manner in which we phrase the subject, that is, as the relation of the cattle exchanges to the social structure, is not meant to disguise our approach. It is intended to focus attention on the facts that cattle constitute the essence of munywalo, and that the exchanges of cattle involved are both the basis of important social arrangements and by far the most important use to which cattle are put in the society.