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.

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 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.

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.

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

At the turn of the century, Sayid Maxamad Cabdille Xasan led a 21-year battle against foreign colonialists in the Somali lands. Then British aircraft mercilessly bombarded his main fort at Talex in 1920, and he died a few months later, his military forces in utter disarray. The Sayid, as he is known, is none the less considered the father of modern Somali nationalism. Military defeat did not spoil the lustre of this hero's feats.

It is March 1970 and a quiet warm Sunday afternoon in the town of Yungay. Most of the children are attending a performance by the visiting circus in the stadium, while their parents are relaxing in anticipation of the busy week ahead. The market is crowded with peasants who are selling and tourists who are buying. This picturesque town of 4,500 inhabitants is festive, and from many a house the radio can be heard broadcasting the World Cup soccer match from Mexico City.