Recent years have seen growth in the number of historical archaeology studies in Eastern Africa. Combining critical analysis of material remains alongside the available documentary and oral sources, these offer new insights into the precolonial and colonial pasts of the region. However, the field is less well established than in either West or Southern Africa and the full potential of the subdiscipline has yet to be realised. This contribution reviews the main analytical and theoretical trends, drawing on a selection of examples. Several other research themes that might warrant investigation are also identified, and the general lack of engagement with material culture and the archaeology of the last few hundred years on the part of historians, is lamented.

Addis Ababa, today the most populous city on the eastern side of Africa between Cairo and Johannesburg, was founded by the Emperor Menelik II in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. The event, which was important in modern Ethiopian history as a landmark in the reorganization and modernization of the State, is not without interest in the wider perspective of the African continent where it provides a unique example of rapid urban growth in an area not under European control. Whereas in such areas the capital was the result of an attempt to create a European type of city in a colonial environment, Addis Ababa represented an attempt by an African ruler to forge something new in his country's history by grafting modern institutions on a traditional living organism.

From the point of view of both practical administration and Indirect Rule theory, non-centralized peoples posed acute problems for British administrators in Africa. The Lango people of Uganda were an especially difficult case, since their social organization was highly fragmented and lacked even the cohesiveness of a segmentary lineage system. The first government chiefs, appointed from 1912 onwards, represented a measure of continuity with the pre-colonial order, since they were nearly all drawn from the ranks of the clan leaders. But a chief's territory seldom corresponded to any pre-colonial entity, while his wide-ranging executive and judicial powers were a complete novelty. During the period 1920–33 the majority of chiefs in all except the most senior county grade ceased even to be natives of their chiefdoms; this was due partly to the European preoccupation with bureaucratic standards, and partly to the success of the county chiefs in establishing patronage networks of their own placemen. As a result, abuse of chiefly power increased, while the ordinary population became more estranged from the colonial administrative structure. An exposé of maladministration in 2933 highlighted the contradictions of British policy in Lango, but it was not until the 1950s that radical reform along democratic lines was attempted.

In this paper I shall be concerned first with the early spread of Mande (or Mali, or Mandingo) peoples, carrying with them Islam, into the area of the later Ashanti, and secondly, with the importance of this for an understanding of the subsequent rise of the Ashanti kingdom in the later seventeenth century. Thirty Years ago Duncan-Johnstone pointed out that ‘it was Mandingo influence that first brought Ashanti in tough with the Moslem world to the north”, and more recently Goody has stressed the role of Mande-speaking peoples, and especially of the Dyula traders, in the spread of Islam southwards along the ‘great trade route from the Niger down to Begho in the north-west corner of present-day Ashanti’. As Goody has noted, this movement of Mande speakers is reflected in a general way on the modern linguistic map of West Africa, in the line of Dyula and related Mande-tan languages that extends from the Middle Niger between Jenne and Bamako south to the Banda and Wenchi districts, in the Brong-Ahafo Region of the present Ghana.

Nyasaland has never been significant as a field of economic exploitation; mineral wealth is lacking and the territory's comparative inaccessibility has severely hampered agricultural development. However, she does possess an abundance of labour, the only mobile form of capital held in a subsistence economy. Today approximately one-third of the total male adult population is employed abroad; for, although Nyasaland is one of the most densely peopled areas in Southern Africa, she cannot provide regular paid employment for more than one-fifth of her male adults. An estimated 123,000 of the 169,000 migrant workers are in European employment in Southern Rhodesia where less than half that colony's requirements are obtainable from her own resources; the rest work mainly in South Africa and in Northern Rhodesia.

Efforts to institute a system for the control and prohibition of khat in Kenya are examined in this article. Prohibition was introduced in the 1940s after an advocacy campaign led by prominent colonial officials. The legislation imposed a racialized view of the effect of khat, seeking to protect an allegedly ‘vulnerable’ community in the north of the country while allowing khat to be consumed and traded in other areas, including Meru where ‘traditional’ production and consumption was permitted. Colonial policy took little account of African opinion, although African agency was evident in the failure and ultimate collapse of the prohibition in the face of widespread smuggling and general infringement. Trade in khat became ever more lucrative, and in the final years of colonial rule economic arguments overcame the prohibition lobby. The imposition of prohibition and control indicates the extent to which colonial attitudes towards and beliefs about cultural behaviour among Africans shaped policies, but the story also illustrates the fundamental weakness of the colonial state in its failure to uphold the legislation.

The Kat River Settlement was established in the eastern Cape Colony in 1829 as a measure of frontier defence. In 1851 many of its coloured inhabitants rebelled against the colonial government. The rebels' motives were beyond the comprehension of contemporary officials, and no thorough investigation of them has since been made. All accounts agree that the Settlement initially thrived, despite the harmful effects of a frontier war in 1835. In later years, however, the government used the Settlement as a dumping ground for coloureds and tribesmen dispossessed elsewhere. The coloureds' system of economic clientship was simultaneously challenged by the extension of commercial farming techniques in the eastern Cape. Coloured people failed to obtain credit to enable them to adapt. Overcrowding and insecurity bred discontent, particularly among certain coloureds of Gonaqua (Khoi) origin, who remembered suffering earlier injustices at the hands of the whites. Unsympathetic colonial officials and the declining military importance of the Settlement compounded these basic grievances. In 1851, under cover of another frontier war, numbers of Settlement coloureds rebelled. The rebellion failed and the government appropriated the land belonging to the rebels, thus dispersing the last concentration of Gonaqua Khoi.

Using the factors of family structure examined by Audrey Richards in a well-known essay, this article suggests that a more productive concept for the historical study of Central Africa than either the unique tribe or a group of societies identified by their rule of descent may be the lineage mode of production, in the restricted sense developed by P. P. Rey. Analysis of the organization of political, economic and ritual functions among the BaKongo, BaSuku, BaPende and other Zairean peoples shows the complementarity and flexibility of patrilateral and materilateral relationships. It is suggested that the greater ‘quantity’ of social structure exhibited by coastal peoples, as well as their matrilineal development, may result from the prolonged effects of the great Congo trade, especially the trade in slaves, modifying an old and generally bilateral system organized by networks of permanent matrimonial alliance. This system is characteristic of the Congo basin, Zimbabwe and Angola.

The fall of colonial regimes across Africa was accompanied by the rise in expectations for rapid and inclusive rural economic progress. In Zambia, the cooperative production unit was one of two key initiatives at the centre of the United National Independence Party's ambitious development efforts. The other was the tractor. By following these two interlinked initiatives in the years immediately following independence, this article contributes to the under-explored history of early postcolonial development. It argues that both the power of expert groups and the level of continuity between late colonial and postcolonial development was not always as great as has recently been suggested. Cooperative mechanization policies emerged from a confluence of competing claims over knowledge, power and resources. However, as is demonstrated, they also reflected more fundamental tensions in the development endeavour between the prioritization of economically efficient mass production, and inclusive development for the masses.

As a result of the policy of indirect rule which British administrators introduced into the Colony of the Gold Coast at the turn of the twentieth century, customary courts, or what were called Native Tribunals, became important venues of adjudication for the indigenous population. As a result, however, of the powerful impact of British justice on the Colony, the judicial responsibilities, procedure, personnel and the nature of the customary law that these courts applied underwent profound changes. It was an excellent example of how important was the cultural interchange between European and African ideas during the colonial period, which, however, both academic lawyers and historians have neglected. The former have preferred to focus on the superior courts as venues of juridical interaction while the latter have focused far more on ‘what was said about change than what was said about order’. By looking, however, at this example of cultural interaction on a fundamentally popular level, we can see that this ‘transforming moment’ in the colonial situation can be seen neither as something ‘imposed’ on African society by colonial administrators nor as simply generating new mechanisms for privileged groups to take advantage of. The Native Tribunals never fully came up to what British administrators or African lawyers considered the highest standards of British rule of law. Nevertheless, their most important function was to popularize recourse to judicial institutions which increasingly adopted more and more of the features of the British legal system.

Salt has been produced in Ghana since at least the sixteenth century at many coastal sites. By the nineteenth century commercial production was concentrated in the lagoons east of Accra, and especially at Songor Lagoon just west of Ada. Here the Ada Manche and the priesthood controlled production. Much salt consumed in Asante and further north came from Accra, Ningo and Songor, and an increasing proportion went up the Volta River by canoe. The share of salt trade in the hands of the Ada traders is reflected in their virtual monopoly of the river traffic and their settlement in trading communities along the river. The British attempted to regulate and tax the trade, but market forces were more important in determining price. Salt from Ada was generally preferred to imported salt and to salt from other local sources, but the alternative of imported salt helped regulate the local prices. The importance of Daboya as a source of salt seems to have been somewhat exaggerated. Salt from Ada continued to predominate in much of Ghana in the twentieth century, but the river traffic was gradually replaced by motor transport, and the hold of the Adas on the distributive network broken. Salt continued to be produced by traditional methods at Songor until quite recently. It is still produced by traditional means for a fairly wide sale at Keta Lagoon, east of the Volta.

In the Dodoma Region of central Tanzania the people called Wagogo name a famine that struck between 1917 and 1920 the Mtunya—‘The Scramble’. This famine came after both German and British miliary requisitions had drained the arid region of men, cattle and food. The famine, which killed 30,000 of the region's 150,000 people, is more than just a good example of what John Iliffe has called ‘conjunctural poverty’. The Mtunya and the response to it by both the people of the region and the new colonial government also shaped the form of the interaction between local economy and society and the political economy of colonial Tanganyika. The Gogo, in their own interpretation of the famine, stress the ways in which this famine made them dependent on the colonial economy. For them, this famine represented a terrible loss of autonomy, a loss of the ability to control the reproduction of their own society.

This article, based on a critical examination of the Pate Chronicle in the light of archaeological and external historical evidence bearing on the subject, presents a case for a revision of the early history of the town. It maintains that Pate was the latest of the settlements to rise to importance in the region, being of little importance before the sixteenth century, and preceded by other city-statés, the earliest of which was Manda. The origins of Pate do not go back before the fourteenth century; the first dynasty there, the Batawi, was ruling up to around the seventeenth century, after which the Nabahani took over the sultanate.

In many accounts, the Sharpeville emergency of 1960 was a key ‘turning point’ for modern South African history. It persuaded the liberation movements that there was no point in civil rights-style activism and served as the catalyst for the formation of the African National Congress's armed wing, Umkhonto we Sizwe. From the South African government's perspective, the events at Sharpeville made it imperative to crush black resistance so that whites could defend themselves against communist-inspired revolutionary agitation. African and Afrikaner nationalist accounts are thus mutually invested in the idea that, after Sharpeville, there was no alternative. This article challenges such assumptions. By bringing together new research on African and Afrikaner nationalism during this period, and placing them in the same frame of analysis, it draws attention to important political dynamics and possibilities that have for too long been overlooked.

No problem has exercised Africanists for so long and so heatedly as the slave trade. Now that any difference of opinion as to its morality has ended, debate tends to concentrate on its economic and political aspects, particularly on its magnitude and regional characteristics. In the past few scholarly generations, sophisticated statistical manipulations have supplied more evidence, but it has been concentrated on the number of slaves who arrived in the New World. Nonetheless, dearth of evidence (sometimes total) regarding the other components of the trade has not seemed to discourage efforts to arrive at global figures and, by extension, to determine its effects on African societies.

The present paper asks why this should be so, and wonders how any defensible conclusions can ever be reached about almost any facet of the trade that can go beyond ideology or truism. It concludes that no global estimate of the slave trade, or of any ‘underdevelopment’ or ‘underpopulation’ it may have caused, are possible, though carefully constructed micro-studies might provide limited answers. Under the circumstances, to believe or advocate any particular set or range of figures becomes an act of faith rather than an epistemologically sound decision

This article reports on developments in archaeological research in North Africa during the last four years, as these are reflected in the 350, or thereabouts, radiocarbon (and thermoluminescence) dates that have appeared since the last review. The number of new dates, and new data, becoming available indicate that North African archaeology is flourishing, although, in contrast to the earlier decades of this century, the focus seems now to be moving toward the eastern part of the region, and toward matters of adaptation rather than of simple classification, as exemplified by the new interpretations of the Dhar Tichitt Neolithic in Mauritania.

The lower Nile Valley has yielded evidence for an intensification of subsistence activities in the Late Palaeolithic in two areas, Makhadma and Kubbaniya, both involving fish-harvesting and the latter also witnessing the use of plant-foods on a scale hitherto undocumented for this period.

At the beginning of the Holocene, there is now good evidence for an eighth millennium bc Neolithic in northern Niger, complete with sophisticated ceramics, which complements the evidence already known for similar phenomena further east in the Sahara. There is even a possibility that the Khartoum Mesolithic of the central Nile Valley might be equally old. Our understanding of the Sudanese Neolithic has greatly increased. For the first time, there appears to be a development from the Khartoum Mesolithic into the Khartoum Neolithic, albeit located outside the Valley. The Khartoum Neolithic is more or less confined to the fourth millennium bc, but did give rise to the later Kadada Neolithic. After Kadada, the focus of settlement seems to have shifted outside the Valley until Meroitic times.

In the protohistoric and historic periods, we have a better understanding of the chronology of the Egyptian Predynastic, although not yet of its development; what models exist will be radically modified if the pyramids are indeed as old as the dates on them now indicate. Finally, far from the Nile Valley in northern Niger, there comes detailed evidence of the development of a precocious metallurgical tradition within a Neolithic context.

Radiocarbon dates published by southern African archaeologists since the last review in this journal (in 1980) illustrate an increasingly complex record of population movement and interaction. Substantial gaps in the distributions of dates reflect the ebb and flow of people in response to changing environmental and social circumstances. More interesting perhaps is the range of intergroup relations now emerging from the last two millennia with the appearance of pastoralists and agriculturalists. Radiocarbon dates, taken along with spatial and formal patterns in the archaeological record, show clearly that the distributions between hunters, herders and farmers and between Stone Age and Iron Age communities were blurred and flexible.

Current attempts at understanding ‘neo-traditionalism’ in Africa stress the limits of invention and warn against according too great a role to colonial intervention. Colonialism nevertheless remains important to our understanding of specific neo-traditionalisms, not only because it forced particular social and economic changes on to African communities but also because of the way that Africans appropriated colonial claims. This article explores how Igbo villages were re-imagined as a result of the complex relations between Igbo ‘sons abroad’ and their hometowns during the colonial period. Appropriating the colonizers' claims to bring ‘progress’, migrants attempted to achieve status and influence in the villages from which they had migrated. These strategies shaped not only how migrants perceived their connection with their village, but also perceptions of the village itself: it came to include the ‘sons abroad’ in a diasporic public sphere that was not in itself geographically defined, but existed through reference to the village.

In 1994 the National Party of Mr de Klerk defeated the African National Congress in only one of nine South African provinces, the Western Cape. The reason for this success lay in the support that the NP received from a large majority of Coloured South Africans in this region. Many were worried about the possibility of losing homes and jobs to ‘Africans’, and believed that the ANC was a specifically African party. These worries and beliefs were encouraged by Nationalist Party politicians. But the success of the latter's campaign was premised on the existence of more enduring self-identities, while simultaneously lending them new content.

This article attempts to explain the emergence of different black ethnicities, and particularly the emergence of Coloured ethnicity, in the British Cape Colony, and its capital, Cape Town. Because of a low non-racial franchise and (theoretical) equality of all before the law, the Victorian Cape provided the possibility of formal black political expression – the establishment of parties, electioneering and political mobilization.

The different black ethnicities that emerged were not the inevitable result of different ‘cultures’ or distant historical experiences. But nor were they simply created by élite Ethnic mobilizers in response to white racialization and discrimination, as was sometimes suggested in revisionist South African historiography of the Apartheid era. This historiography was understandably eager to challenge belief in the immutability of race and ethnicity that underpinned ‘separate development’ – a policy which itself served to reshape, perpetuate and reinforce perceptions of ethnic difference.

Labels, like ‘Coloured’ or ‘Native’ may have been imposed by whites and used by black élites to challenge state policies or to demand resources. But the labels had to continue to make sense to those they wished to mobilize. The content of ethnicities could not be purely ‘imagined’ by élites.

This article examines the origins and dynamics of Aberewa, an anti-witchcraft movement that rose to prominence in the Akan forest region of Asante and the Gold Coast (Ghana) in 1906–10. It suggests that while the political, social and economic changes of the early colonial period acted as a catalyst for its widespread expansion, Aberewa emerged from an earlier cult called Sakrabundi that was already moving from the savanna into the northern reaches of the Asante empire by the 1880s. The ritual trajectory and popular appeal of Sakrabundi and Aberewa are explored within the context of the ambivalent relationship between the Akan peoples and their northern savanna neighbours. An argument is made for the need to consider witchcraft and anti-witchcraft in Africa as historical processes rather than as a set of structural beliefs and practices.