Throughout nearly twenty years of often tumultuous post-colonial history, Nigerian foreign policy has been surprisingly consistent. It may be too early to judge the capabilities and determination of the new civilian government of Alhaji Shehu Shagari, but if the past is any guide, the basic concerns of Nigerian foreign policy are not likely to change.

Future decisions will probably continue to reflect the pursuit of three vital and interrelated domestic objectives: to build greater national unity by overcoming deep regional, ethnic, and religious differences; to achieve rapid economic development for a nation that, despite great oil wealth, has a per-capita income of less than $400; and to complete the process of full self-determination which has yet to encompass all sectors of the modern economy. Among the three, the quest for national integration has been of paramount concern.

The notion of a subordinate African international system is widely posited and accepted. Political scientists have debated the means to, requirements for, and amount of political development in African states but have left largely unstudied the question of whether or not the African international system is developing--by which we mean developing a capacity to cope, by adapting to internal and external challenges. Our purpose in this essay is to study the development of the African system by examining the Organization of African Unity (OAU), with particular reference to its early years.

The focus on the OAU is easily justified. As the sole continental body to which each black African state belongs, its own development is a necessary, and almost sufficient, precondition of the system's development, if this system is also to be construed as subordinate in world politics. The possibility that an African system could develop through the creation of some other body seems remote, although it is not logically precluded. One could, of course, argue that an African system would be developing, were the states to continue the present trend of advancing their interests through more or less cohesive subregional or subpolitical groupings, such as the East African community or OCAM; but it would not be an African international system that was developing.

If men could learn from history, what lessons it might teach us! But passion and party blind our eyes, and the light which experience gives is a lantern on the stern, which shines only on the waves behind us!

Coleridge

A contradiction hitherto not adequately examined exists between historical research and policy analysis in modern African studies. The more familiar difficulty between policy-makers, who want answers, and historians and social scientists, who find instead complexity and uncertainty, has been much discussed and is not pursued here. Rather, a more subtle tension operates in the work of those policy analysts who use historical research in their work, particularly when these analysts are government advisors in Africa.

History has always had an equivocal role in policy analysis. On one side, an important part of the profession embraces project evaluation and implementation analysis, both of which can involve historical research. In the former, the analyst tries to understand the impact of a project in terms of its past performance, while the latter uses past performance as the basis for improved design of future projects. On the other side, historical research is not considered an essential part of the analyst's graduate training, at least in the United States. One would be hard-pressed, for example, to find an American public policy school that required history alongside core courses in statistics, microeconomics, law, and political science. This ambivalence over the role of historical research is best illustrated by the unheeded calls analysts themselves have made and continue to make for more historical research in their own profession. In an essay on policy analysis familiar to many U.S.-trained analysts, the author opines “historical genesis is a much underplayed aspect of the analysis of social programs” and recommends that a more overtly historical perspective should inform policy analysis generally (Nelson, 1977: 152; Chapter 8).

The Seventh Special Session of the United Nations General Assembly Devoted to Development and International Co-operation, which ended on September 16, 1975, after round-the-clock negotiations between developing and developed nations, succeeded in producing a resolution which was adopted unanimously. The preamble of the resolution reaffirmed the General Assembly's intention “to eliminate injustice and inequality which afflict vast sections of humanity and to accelerate the development of developing countries” (U.N. General Assembly, 1975: 1). The resolution identified measures the international community could take to accelerate the pace of development. The Seventh Special Session is another indication of the developing world's determination to create a “New International Economic Order.” This article will discuss what is meant by this increasingly invoked phrase and examine the changing political realities which account for international economic issues becoming the dominant concern of bodies such as the United Nations. We will then analyze the decisions taken at the Seventh Special Session and discuss some of their possible implications for development in Africa.

The Seventh Special Session, which had been planned for almost two years, came only eighteen months after the General Assembly had convened in a Sixth Special Session to consider problems of raw materials and development. Two extraordinary sessions in such a short period of time (the first special sessions ever convened to discuss economic issues) demonstrate the seriousness of the economic crisis confronting the world.

The Sixth Special Session, convened in April 1974 on the initiative of President Houari Boumédienne of Algeria, met at a time of deepening economic turmoil.

This article argues that education in Africa, from colonial times to the postcolony, has been the victim of various forms of violence, the most devastating of which is the violence of cultural and political conversion: externally and internally driven initiatives and processes intended to domesticate, harness, transform, alter, remodel, adapt, or reconstruct Africa and Africans through schools and universities to suit new ways of being, seeing, doing, and thinking. As a result of such violence, educational systems have privileged mimicry and transformed epistemologies informed by partial theories to metanarratives of arrogance, superiority, and intolerance of creative differences. Even when clear alternatives are imagined to the current irrelevance in education, economic difficulties render their realization extremely difficult. Repressive states have perpetuated and capitalized upon this predicament by manipulating desperate academics into compliance and complicity with mediocrity. This article examines some epistemological consequences of such alienation and irrelevance and looks at their implications for theorizing Africa. It calls for a global conversation of universities and scholars in which Africa participates on its own terms, with the interests and concerns of ordinary Africans as its guiding principle.

An ethnographic analysis of two interconnected cities for the Somali diaspora—Nairobi and Johannesburg—helps to uncover alternative narratives about the lives of Somali women and the ways they renegotiate their cultural and religious identities in diasporic contexts, moving beyond the widespread representation of Somali women in the global imagination as helpless victims. Using the domains of marriage and female circumcision, Ripero-Muñiz analyzes how these women exercise their agency while at the same time negotiating the cultural and religious practices of their community. By focusing on the ways in which Somali women re-negotiate their identities, this article helps to locate the agency of women in refugee and migrant communities in sub-Saharan Africa.

Diabate examines images and news reports about rampant sexual permissiveness in Abidjan and its online environs. Attention to the visual dimension of this pleasure explosion highlights the presence of homines economici. Considering buyers of aphrodisiacs or butt/breast-enhancing products not as uninformed agents, but instead as rational actors who are sensitive to images leads makers and retailers to invest in branding and marketing. Thus, these images and products of pleasure have evolved in an economy of producing, promising, purchasing, and satisfying needs. Analyzing the entanglement of visuality and economic calculus enables a move beyond the moralizing tendency in discussions of pleasure.

This article explores state/NGO/funder relations in Africa through an ethnographic case study of Malawi’s Readmission Policy. The Policy, which banned the permanent expulsion of pregnant girls from school in 1993, underwent a formal, government-led review in 2016. By focusing attention on the daily work of “middle figures”—the mid-level civil servants, NGO representatives, and consultants who participated in the policy reform process—this article shows how state disempowerment in Malawi was not wholesale, even as aid funding for development policymaking bypassed government. Rather, government actors deployed key strategies, including time (mis)management, to reclaim moral authority over Malawian schools.

This article is an inquiry into the origins, the ideological basis, political and economic organization and prospects of the Populist Revolution ushered in Burkina Faso (formerly Upper Volta) by the military coup d’état of 4 August 1983 led by Captain Thomas Sankara. Set against an inauspicious background of scarce resources, dismal poverty, recurrent drought and regional and international hostility, and occurring at a time when Socialism is on the wane in Africa, the coup initially seemed doomed to failure. The very fact that it has been able to survive for almost three years in such an unfavourable context is in itself intriguing. We venture the hypothesis that the relative longevity and temporary success of the Sankara regime is to be explained by the fact that-contrary to many similar socialists experiments-it has actually managed to actively and durably mobilize genuine and significant popular support for its policies.

Over ten years have now elapsed since the then Government of Northern Nigeria, in what has since been represented as a major attack on the institution of Chieftancy per se (Dudley, 1968, and Whittaker, 1970), set in motion the procedure for a Commission of Enquiry into the financial affairs of the Kano Native Authority which resulted in the Emir of Kano, Alhaji Sir Muhammadu Sanusi, K.B.E., abdicating and going into voluntary exile at Azare, leaving his Emirate entirely and withdrawing to a life of religious seclusion.

Nothing has been published heretofore concerning the motives or the origins of this enquiry, other than the speculation of some scholars which have been based on only the most scanty corpus of material, but it would seem that, ten years after the event, and after so much water has flowed under the bridge, there would now be no impropriety in disclosing at least some of the broader aspects of the Enquiry as the Commissioner became aware of them. In particular, what has not been appreciated to date is that the fundamental element of the crisis when it occurred was really one of legitimacy.

When Felix Eboue made the observation quoted, it was already too late for France to effect any meaningful shift in colonial policy. When Charles Temple made his, British administration theory had already crystallized along the rigid lines for which Lugard had opted, and, in fact, it was against this very rigidity that Temple was inveighing when he wrote the book from which the quotation has been taken. The problem which each of these authorities was addressing, however, is not one that is applicable to the colonial context alone, or even, necessarily, at all. It is much more generally concerned with modernization and modernism, and especially with the dislocation of the traditional process which the unthinking application of modernistic norms invariably entails.

African socialism is the ideology of Africa. The purposes of this paper are to examine the meanings attached to this ideology by Africans and Africanists alike, to analyze and compare any perceptual differences which may exist among competing viewpoints, and, finally, to indicate areas of consensus or agreement emerging from such an analysis. The ideology of African socialism is investigated here under experimental circumstances. Employing Q technique, 53 Africans and Africanists were asked to sort 75 statements pertinent to African socialism made by African leaders along an opinion continuum. Data were inter-correlated and factor-analyzed, producing three factors or patterns of perceptions toward African socialism, respectively described as pragmatic, scientific, and internationalist. Respondents aligned with all three viewpoints mention Julius Nyerere of Tanzania as their ideal type of African socialist leader. The inference is that Nyerere serves as a condensation symbol for persons of differing ideological persuasions.

Ideology is an important aspect of any political culture. Political culture is part of the general cultural system, and according to Parsons (1964: 57-58), the individual is involved in three possible ways: by his interest in it, by his participation in it, and by his individual value orientation or political beliefs. Verba (1966: 513) observes that the political culture

consists of the system of empirical beliefs, expressive symbols, and values which defines the situation in which political action takes place. It provides the subjective orientation to politics.

At a general level of analysis, ideologies embody issues of importance to individuals or groups. As a working definition of political ideology, Dion (1959: 49) has suggested that it may be regarded as a “more or less integrated system of values and norms noted in society, which individuals and groups project on the political plane in order to promote the aspirations they have come to value in social life.”

It has been said that, given the proper incentives, farmers in the developing world would “turn sand into gold” (Schultz, 1976: 5). This paper describes and discusses an instance which approximates just such a transformation. It examines the relationships between a shift in the economic base and concomitant social and institutional changes among the Anlo Ewe people of southeastern Ghana. Specifically, it examines changes in the organization of labor and access to resources that developed in response to agricultural intensification.

The data for this paper were gathered between 1970 and 1979 in the vicinity of Anloga (see map), a town of approximately 15,000 people in coastal southeastern Ghana. Anlo Ewe people have been settled in this area since about the mid-1600s. It is an area of sandy soil and sparse rainfall located on a narrow strip of coastal land between the ocean and a large saltwater lagoon. In their season, drought and flood have created difficulties for the Anlo for as long as they have been settled here.

Oral tradition indicates that the first representatives of what were ultimately to become patrilineal clans moved into the area from the east bringing with them an economy based on horticulture and hunting. Cattle, pigs and fowl were kept. Once settled, people began to fish in both the lagoon and the sea. Extensive trade with areas north of the lagoon has apparently always been a significant factor in the economy, with the Anlos trading fish, salt collected from the lagoon, and woven fabrics and mats for vegetable foods.

Africa has considerable potential for developing its fishery resources. Some of the world's richest fishing grounds lie off the coasts of Mauritania, Angola, Morocco, Nigeria, and Senegal. At present, these fisheries are exploited mostly (sometimes almost exclusively) by foreign fishing fleets from Japan, South Korea, the USSR, and several European countries. Official statistics indicate that foreign fishing off West Africa accounted for 1.2 million metric tons in 1976, or roughly 2 percent of the total worldwide marine catch. A Senegalese official claimed (quite plausibly) that those figures were too conservative and that foreign fishing amounted to “at least three times” the official foreign catch (United States Department of Commerce [hereafter USDOC], 1976). In response to this dependence on foreign fishing, several African countries are attempting to develop their own fishing fleets. Nigeria, in particular, has been rapidly expanding its fleet during the last decade (Marine Fisheries Review, 1982). The Organization of African Unity emphasized fisheries development in its 1980 Plan of Action (South, 1983a: 68). African nations are attempting to challenge the Foreign fishing companies' dominant position. As this paper will show, these efforts are likely to increase indigenous participation in the fishing industry.

The issue of economic nationalism in the Third World has been widely discussed. It is frequently noted that Third World countries are now adopting aggressive policies toward foreign investors. Many countries require foreign investors to establish joint ventures in certain industries, to employ indigenous personnel, to share technology, and to construct local manufacturing and processing facilities.

In traditional Africa stories belong to everyone. The story-tellers, griot or grandparent, repositories of wisdom, speak to the village. Children are there. Children participate. Furthermore, the art of storytelling is not confined to specialists. Although a griot may study for years to leam long, complicated epics and extensive genealogies, the villagers will know from childhood their tribal legends, and they can follow their own lines in family traditions. They can interact spontaneously with the song, dance, or dramatic recitation of the singer-narrator.

It was natural that when Western literary genres featuring the imposed European languages were integrated with the African oral tradition the narrative took on new form and expression. Some of today's internationally known African writers have created new forms of novels and short stories (not tales). In doing so they have used their own linguistic creations: “Nigerian” or “Ghanaian” English and “Negritude” French. Although Western readers were reluctant to accept such variation, many readers today find excellence in literature from Africa.

Nigeria's anglophone writers led the way in gaining international acclaim for their prose fiction. Chinua Achebe's landmark Things Fall Apart (1958) is still predominant, often the only novel written by a contemporary African novelist familiar to a general readership. Cyprian Ekwensi, a prolific writer of all varieties of prose fiction, got his start with Onitsha market literature. He wrote People of the City in 1954 and it was reissued in Britain in 1963. Hans Zell (Zell, Bundy and Coulon, 1983:383) considers it to be “the first contemporary African novel.”

The supply of high level manpower, particularly the products of institutions of higher learning, has been concentrated in certain parts of Nigeria due partly to the highly uneven pace of educational development. Due to lack of data on the distribution of the products on Nigerian universities on a state by state basis, the distribution of university students can be used to indicate the disparity in the supply of university graduates. In 1970-71, the distribution of the 14,468 students enrolled in Nigerian universities by state of origin ranged from only 221 or 1.5 percent for the former North-Western State to a high of 5,218 or 36.1 percent for the former Western State. In 1973-74, only 2.7 percent of the 23,228 students enrolled came from the North-Western State, while 29.8 percent came from the Western State (National Universities Commission, 1970-71, 1973-74).

Where there is unfettered labor mobility such uneven supply of manpower would engender geographical mobility with people moving to wherever there are employment opportunities. This, however, has never been so in the Nigerian situation. In the 1950s, there were mass dismissals of workers on the ground that they were not indigenes of the regions where they were working (Yesufu, 1962: 145). All the former regional governments were guilty of extreme regionalism as strict regionalizaton of their respective civil services became a religion to be worshipped with all devotion. Unfortunately, this practice of regional consciousness also spread to the private sector where employers fell in line with government discriminatory employment policies. As Yesufu (1962: 145) aptly summarized, “private employers, particularly the large expatriate firms, have largely adopted this regionalist approach in labor recruitment, in deference to the susceptibilities of the Regional Government who might otherwise withhold important economic concessions.”

In their study of the process of individual modernity in six less developed countries in Africa, Asia, and Latin America, Inkeles and Smith (1974) reported that urbanization was of little or no consequence as a predictor variable. McClelland (1976: 161) has described this finding as “a shock to some sociologists … who have argued that it is the city above all which makes men modern.” Lerner (1965) and Hoselitz (1962) were among such sociologists who assigned a preeminent position to urbanization among factors accounting for modernization in the less developed countries. Lerner (1965), in particular, argued that in a system of causal indicators, the developmental sequence was from urbanization to literacy to communication and thence to political participation. Support for this conception of the national development process has been reported by McCrone and Cnudde (1967), Akler (1966), Smith (1969), and Sigelman (1971), among others.

Several other researchers have, however, reported, as did Inkeles and Smith (1974), that urbanization no longer holds such an important position in the national development process, if in fact it ever did hold such a position in the past (Schramm and Ruggels, 1967; Golding, 1974; Edeani, 1977) and Lerner (1976) himself has conceded that these empirical challenges to his once influential findings may well be valid. Schramm and Ruggels (1967) argue that the spread of transistor radios, roads, and rapid transportation have eroded any influences which urbanization might have had on the growth of literacy and the mass media as Lerner contended, since the data which formed the basis of Lerner's conclusions were collected as far back as September 1950 when these media and transportation developments in the Third World had not become so important. Golding (1974) states that Lerner's research and others like it disregarded the influences of colonialism, international news and media organizations, and the relationship between traditional communication channels and the new media on the development of the Third World. Also, Edeani (1977) reports that, contrary to Lerner's stand, urbanization is a function of economic development and mass communication development.