Although much has been written about the ideology of Laurent Gbagbo's Front Populaire Ivoirien in Côte d'Ivoire and its impact on the Ivorian politico-military crisis, little attention has been paid to the ubiquitous role of the law in the discourse and political strategy of the pro-Gbagbo elite. The Ivorian case may provide important insights about the connection between ultranationalist ideology and a legalist, formalist conception of democracy and national sovereignty. The article analyses the circumstances of the emergence of ‘legalist nationalism’ in Côte d'Ivoire by looking at key episodes of the Ivorian transition between 2002 and 2012. The article discusses the relevance of Pierre Englebert's concept of ‘legal command’ and the turbulences of democratic transitions in accounting for the prominence of legalism in Ivorian politics. It explores the implications of the Ivorian case for understanding the connection between law and politics in Africa.

The establishment and functioning of the African Commission on Human and Peoples' Rights challenges a basic principle of positivist international law on which the Organisation of African Unity (O.A.U.) has long based its policies: the sovereign domestic control of member-states.

The rapid and massive adoption of mobile money transfer (MMT) services in East Africa, particularly in Kenya, stands in stark contrast to historically low use of formal financial systems on the continent. Its ‘fertile grounds’ therefore require in-depth analysis to understand the implications for African financial systems. This paper argues for the need to examine the underlying conceptual environment that enables low income and poor people's MMT adoption. It innovatively combines anthropological with ethnolinguistic analytical approaches to distinguish two repertoires around resource exchange. First, is a relational financial repertoire where relationships are developed and consolidated to create support and ‘upliftment’. A contrasting resource-focused repertoire is more like that of the formal financial sector. Identifying the conceptual features of relationality, the study offers a new perspective on the adoption and use of MMT in Africa and highlights the potential for disjunctures with policy efforts to increase financial inclusion.

The anti-colonial revolution was a great event in the lives of the Congolese people, and both the masses and their bourgeois leaders expected a lot from it. The masses had accepted the leadership of the clerks and other educated groups, who presented themselves as their spokesmen and representatives to the colonial Government. Their hope was that their living conditions would be changed after independence, and this was in fact what their leaders promised them. But this promise was not honoured after independence, for many reasons, one of which was the fact that the anti-colonial revolution had masked the conflicts of interest opposing the bourgeois leaders to the people. These conflicts became open after independence, when, instead of fulfiffing their promises, the leaders responded to popular demands either with more promises or with repression. This situation ultimately led to the emergence of the ‘second independence’ movement in the Kwilu region and in the eastern part of the new Republic.

Scholars of ethnic riots disagree on which are more susceptible to collective violence between ethnically segregated and diverse socio-spatial settings. Studies of riot-prone cities have produced contradictory conclusions. This article proposes that the ambivalence stems in part from disregarding the mobile nature of armed mobs and conflating their origins with their locations of violence. Drawing upon extensive ethnographic fieldwork involving mobile interviews, in-depth discussions and visual documentation, the article maps the footsteps of armed mobs from their origins to sites of confrontation during the 2008 Christian–Muslim riots in Jos, Nigeria. Findings suggest both segregated and mixed settlements contributed to violence. While armed mobs were likelier to originate from segregated neighbourhoods, mixed settlements, especially those sandwiched between segregated ones, served as frontiers for fighting; armed mobs preferred narrow alleys inaccessible to security forces. These findings' implications can advance the understanding and management of ethnic riots in urban areas.

Traditional social structures in new African states have not withered away according to the plans of modernising African leaders or the projections of western social scientists. Leaders and social interests of long ancestry continue to count, and often determine the policies of so-called modern governments. Many chiefs and religious figures have succeeded in maintaining their relative positions of power vis-à-vis their former subjects.

For decades, Plateau State in Nigeria's Middle Belt has witnessed repeated ethnoreligious violence. Over this period, both state and federal governments have established formal Commissions of Inquiry (COIs) in response to unrest, tasked with investigating violence, identifying perpetrators, and – ultimately – strengthening accountability. While commissions’ mandates and specific outcomes varied, there is general consensus that inquiries have been largely ineffective at securing justice or establishing accountability for violence. This study seeks to understand the expectations placed on, and role of, COIs in Plateau State as pathways to formal accountability in a context of recurring violence. We argue that COIs are embedded in the complex, multilevel networks and politics of state and non-state institutions. Civil society, in turn, has diverse expectations and demands, and articulates these in fragmented ways. As a result, COIs served primarily as another avenue for interest-based negotiations.

Agricultural marketing boards in tropical Africa are heirlooms of the Great Depression and World War II, when colonial governments found their principal sources of revenue severely reduced and both European and African populations financially distressed. Marketing boards are of British origin, but similar efforts were made in French and Belgian Africa. The rationale for intervention is clouded; some of the principal reasons have faded into the past or were never openly expressed.1

The paper examines the role of civil society organisations (CSOs) in Zimbabwe's interim power-sharing process. It identifies CSOs’ organisational capacity, nature of engagement in the political process and relations with the power-sharing parties as the principal issues affecting CSOs’ ability to promote peace-making and democratisation in the context of a transitional executive power-sharing process. Based on these analytical themes, the case analysis argues that CSOs’ sway on the transition was particularly constrained by organisational fragmentation and disunity, divergent strategies vis-à-vis the interregnum, diminishing access to political elites, the latter's refusal to permit greater civic involvement, and continued repression.

While most African states are struggling hard to correct the severe imbalances in their economies that have been created, in part, by declining agricultural exports and rising food imports, recent evidence from Zimbabwe suggests that growth is being fuelled by the strong performance of the agricultural sector. In September 1988, it was expected that the value of crop production for 1988–9 would rise by 40 per cent over the previous year, contributing strongly to a real increase in the gross domestic product (G.D.P) of 5–6 per cent.1 The great foreign-exchange earners, tobacco and cotton, broke previous output records and achieved very favourable prices on the world market as well, and the maize harvest also improved significantly.

IN his thorough sociological study of Afrikaner ideology, Dunbar Moodie has shown that the civil theology most adequate to the exigencies of the 1930s was an interpretation ‘which was tight enough to unite Afrikaners and yet loose enough to allow considerable difference of opinion on practical matters’.2 While the same functional needs for a proper ideology remain for the 1970S and 80s, ‘civil theology’ can no longer fulfil this task. This is mainly due to increased secularisation and value changes in an urbanised life, which has diluted traditional culture with the corruptive spoils of affluence. Moodie aptly concludes that the exigencies of Afrikaner power have changed the debate from one between rival metaphysical interpretations of Christian-Nationalism (Kuyperianism, neo-Fichteanism, Volkskerk) to that of ‘the very continuance of ideology itself’.3 Such considered findings are confirmed by similar observations of ‘outsiders’ who have returned after a lengthy exile. In the assessment of Ezekiel Mphahlele:

The widespread perception that South Africa is moving inexorably towards violent confrontation has led to increasing attention being paid to consociationalism as providing a potentially workable framework whereby the White minority's present monopoly of political power could be nudged towards a democratic form of rule in a reasonably just, evolutionary, and non-violent manner. Not surprisingly, most such speculation has been undertaken by those of either a liberal or a genuinely conservative (as opposed to reactionary) bent who, whilst certainly evincing some apprehension that racial polarisation could result in the overthrow of the existing capitalist order, register rather more concern that any prolonged violent conflict would entail not only the sheer human misery that is the inevitable accompaniment of war, but would also be massively destructive of any long-term prospects for political stability, economic growth, racial harmony or, more simply, any form of reasonably decent society.

Over the past ten years, African governments have wrestled with the problems of designing and implementing comprehensive rural development policies. In an overwhelmingly rural continent with, for most areas, only a recent history of urbanisation, such an emphasis is understandable. But if African cities are for the most part young, and small by world standards, they are also growing faster than cities in any other major world region. This rapid growth, superimposed on a meagre resource base, will put increasing pressure on planners to devise solutions for the adequate and equitable distribution of urban services. The solutions that emerge, however, will be heavily conditioned by two sets of factors: the immediate demands of urban growth, and the wider political/administrative and social context within which policy-making takes place.

Genocide is easily defined: ‘the deliberate extermination of a people’. It appears to occur in human history primarily in association with the emergence of the state, or in the effort of an established régime to maintain or expand its domination, and is virtually unrecorded for ‘traditional’ or pre-state societies. Although the concept of ‘development’ is by contrast exceedingly ambiguous (other than as an ideal process or social form in an evolutionary typology), the meaning conveyed would be antithetical to the definition of genocide, being some form of material or moral improvement in social existence, rather than a means towards the rapid extinction of a cultural tradition.

The exchange rates of several African countries have historically been specified as units of certain ‘master currencies’ of former imperial powers, notably the pound sterling and the French and Belgian francs. The fact that these countries might notionally be said to have belonged to ‘common currency areas’, the Sterling Area and the French and Belgian franc zones, has variously been commended and criticised. To some observers, the break-up of such monetary groupings, following the establishment of national currencies by some African governments shortly after independence, was a retrograde step. This process had offered no alternative basis for rationalising regional monetary and economic co-operation. Others have emphasised the limitations under such arrangements as regards national freedom of initiative in managing exchange rates – even though they would accept that some restrictions may not be inconsistent with the logic of common currency arrangements.

When Julius Nyerere visited Mgeta in the Uluguru mountains while campaigning in 1987 for the chairmanship of what was then Tanzania's only party, Chama cha Mapinduzi (C.C.M.), he was confronted with a question relating to a long-running land dispute. Given that a national leader can expect to make little political capital from getting embroiled in such a controverty, Nyerere not surprisingly emphasised that he could not interfere with the work of the local primary court. It is doubtful, however, whether those present considered this a satisfactory reply as, in their experience, the administration of law – especially in relation to land–is highly problematic. Indeed, the magistrate handling this very case was removed by popular request because of alleged corruption soon after stating confidently: ‘After the hospital, we provide the most popular government service’. The demand for legal services is great in Mgeta, as elsewhere in the country, but at the same time there is little or no trust in the legal institutions.

The official dismantling of apartheid, the release of Nelson Mandela after 27 years imprisonment in Febuary 1990, and especially the first multi-racial elections in April 1994 followed by the inauguration of the Government of National Unity (GNU), have marked this decade as the most fascinating in the history of South Africa.

In the last few years there has been a growing interest in that very considerable and hitherto mostly unrecorded part of the economic life of the Third World which flourishes outside the state and foreign-owned medium and large-scale concerns. This great mass of non-enumerated enterprises and activities is a major source of employment and production. For the purpose of this article, it will be argued that many of those undertaking research in this sector can be regarded as belonging to one or other of two fairly distinct schools of thought formed by (1) a number of officials from the International Labour Organisation, the World Bank, and other international and government agencies, as well as some purely academic writers,1 and (2) the majority of social scientists attached to the British Sociological Association Development Group, some of whom operate to a greater or lesser extent within a Marxian or neo-Marxian perspective.2 For purposes of abbreviation only, these will be referred to as the ‘I.L.O.’ and the ‘Radical’ groups.

A Recebt study by the U.N. Secretariat provides ample proof, if further proof were needed, that the problem of the economic development of the low-income countries cannot be solved without these countries becoming not only producers, but also exporters of manufactured goods, on an important scale.1 At present 86 per cent of the exports of the ‘developing countries’2 consists of primary products, and only 14 per cent of manufactured goods. But the world market for primary commodities expands only slowly, owing to the low income elasticity of demand. This is partly due to the low income elasticity of food consumption in the wealthy countries and the rapid growth of their own agricultural production, and partly to economies in the use of materials in industry and the development of synthetics. Since 1938, the volume of trade in manufactures has more than trebled, while the volume of trade in primary products has increased only by two-thirds.

This article examines the upsurge in denunciations of ‘tribalism’ in public debate during The Gambia's transition from the autocracy of Yahya Jammeh to the ‘New Gambia’ under President Adama Barrow. In these public debates, derogatory statements about particular ethnicities articulate fears of present or future alliances to monopolise political power. These fears are disproportionate to attempts of organised political mobilisation on ethnic grounds, which remain marginal. It is argued that accusatory politics are a salient, and neglected, feature of ethnic dynamics in contemporary Gambian – and African – politics. This politics of accusation involves the contestation and negotiation of moral legitimacy in the political sphere, in a manner challenging the separation of the moral and the political undergirding scholarly distinctions between ethnicity and tribalism.