Algeria is important for its wealth, for its size and location, for the dynamism and austerity of its leadership, and for its pretensions to socialism and leadership of the Third World. Clearly, an imposing list. Yet the Algerian approach to development is little known and insufficiently understood, at least in the English-speaking world. In France, on the contrary, and throughout la francophonie, Algerian movements and events are closely watched and intensely debated. Much of the controversy has concentrated on the question as to whether or not Algeria deserves its self-proclaimed status as a socialist state; 1 the celebrated autogestion effort of the 1960s has been thoroughly and carefully analysed,2 and the nationalisations of foreign oil companies – as well as a few other salient economic enterprises – have received considerable attention.3 It should be noted that the extensive French literature on post-1962 Algeria has focused on events up to 1971, though a few materials on more recent developments are beginning to emerge,4 and that a small number of articles in English on major Algerian programmes, such as la révolution agraire, have recently been published.5

Employment in the modern sector in Africa is often employment by government. Control of the state apparatus brings the ability to reward and to coerce. Private wealth is scattered in most countries, and power and status frequently stem from a place in or access to the state apparatus. Élites in Africa derive their power from control of the state, not from private property or private large-scale organisations. Yet, while public servants and civil services have been studied in Africa, there have been relatively few analyses of the state, and the relationship of state power to social classes and groups.

Over the first U.N. development decade the Third World has made rather faster progress, as measured by the growth in national incomes, than had been expected. Nevertheless, though the average income per capita has risen by about 50 per cent since 1960 (with total income having almost doubled), these increases have been very unequally distributed both between and within countries. This has led to the conclusion, now widely held, that growth-oriented development strataegies are alone unlidely to solve the problem of poverty. Similarly, there has been a move away from the confidence placed upon the growth of national income per capita as an effective index of social welfare. There has therefore been a quickening interest, particularly on the part of multilateral and bilataeral donor agencies – notably the World Bank, I.L.O., O.D.M., and S.I.D.A. – in promoting changes in domestic policies within the Third World which would focus more upon increasing the welfare of the poorest groups.

When the details of the ‘Kissinger proposals for the transition to majority rule in Zimbabwe were made public in October 1976, containing generous proposals for the compensation of white Rhodesian settlers, a chord was struck among observers of African politics that the history of decolonisation in Kenya was about to repeat itself. There the British Government and international monetary agencies lent funds to the new African Government to compensate white settlers for the expropriation of their farms in the highland regions. The similarity between the Kenyan and Rhodesian colonial situations goes far deeper than the willingness of the western powers to bail out white settlers in a time of adversity. External financial assistance in Kenya ensured a smooth transition to a neo-colonial economy in which international capital was permitted expanded access to the resources and markets of Kenya and the East African region. Similarly the sudden concern of the western bloc for majority rule in Rhodesia and for the establishment of a ‘Zimbabwe Development Fund’ has been motivated by the prospect of the removal from the western sphere of economic control of the rich resources and markets of Southern Africa.

In the literature of both comparative politics and international relations there exist two broad theoretical orientations towards the concept of development: capitalist and Marxist or neo-Marxist. The first emphasises the nation as the basic unit of analysis, and assumes that development is a matter of accepting and implementing western forms of political and economic organisation, and of the masses internalising ‘modern’ attitudes and values.1 The second identifies world capitalism as the key unit of analysis, and is convinced that underdevelopment is both created and maintained by this international economic system.2

In this short article I suggest that the current styles of most African leaders relate to a number of significant changes in the political environment as regards (i) their rôles and the structures within which they are imbedded, (ii) their audiences/followerships and expectations, and (iii) the salience and valence of important symbols. My analysis will also involve making comparisons between political styles adopted before and after independence, as well as examining the meaning of leadership rôle-images projected during both periods.

Political culture may be defined as the attitudes, beliefs, and values held by a population and directed towards the political system of which it is a part,1 and includes what people know about that system and their evaluation of its work.

The concept is of importance for two main reasons. First, the attitudes that people have will help determine their behaviour. If the view is held that development must involve popular participation, then it is important to look at those factors which might affect whether or not people will participate. The second, and related, reason is that political culture tells us something about the degree to which people accept as legitimate and useful the political system under which they live. This is important to know when considering questions, for example, that have to do with the potential for political instability.

The Setting

The rumble of military jeeps throughout the continent has obscured the fact that there are still a few places where lively elections are held from time to time. Before the rash of coups, and even in several countries with a dominant party, there were local opportunities for intensive competition. Where electoral politics still exist today, groups which might not carry much national weight have the chance to win a slice of the political system at the local level. Such a case was the 1975 election of the chief or seyfo for the Lower Saloum District which is part of the McCarthy Island Division on the north bank of the Gambia River. The three largest ethnic groups here are the Olof, the Mandinka, and the Fula.

The Somalis, who almost exclusively inhabit the Horn of Africa, form one of the most uniformly homogeneous populations of the continent. They speak one language, adhere to a single faith, and share a common cultural heritage which is an integral part of their nomadic way of life. The very name So maal, when spoken in the imperative, means ‘Go and milk a beast for yourself’, welcome words of hospitality in a wandering stranger's ears. The Somali's self-conception is inseparable from his flocks and his historical grazing lands. Yet, the Somalis have watched helplessly for the past generation or two as their pasturelands were dismembered by colonising European powers and neighbouring potentates.

Although the political significance of geographic factors has always been acknowledged within the context of political philosophy, the locational aspects of most political problems have historically been perceived as of less than primary importance. There are several areas, however, in which a locational analysis would not only be beneficial in arriving at a full comprehension of the political situation involved, but indeed should serve as the major focus of the study. Ethiopia, and the civil strife it has undergone in connection with the Eritrean secessionist movement, provides an appropriate illustration of two of the most important of these areas.