Since gaining independence in the mid 1970s, the economies of many Third World countries have been worsened by a number of external and internal causes such as the oil crisis, political strife and economic mismanagement, coupled with droughts, increased populations, distorted industrialization and lack of job creation. These and other factors have led to an attrition of civil servants' efficiency, a decline in real incomes, increased balance of payment problems and low productivity, both in rural and urban areas (World Bank 1995, 1994; Bukuku 1993; Nyang'oro and Shaw 1992; African Development Bank 1992). In an attempt to address the continuing decline of their economies, Third World governments have pursued a variety of policies and practices collectively designed to encourage the involvement of the labor force in informal sector economic activities. The principal objectives of such activities include subsidizing individuals' incomes and increasing food production. One of these activities has been urban agriculture that emerged as a major urban sector activity during the 1980s (Rakodi 1988; Yeung 1988; Tricaud 1987; Sanyal 1985). Urban agriculture in Tanzania, and especially in the city of Dar es Salaam, involves the raising of livestock and growing of crops (cash, food) both for earning extra money and nutritional purposes.

In spite of its perceived beneficial impact on individuals and society, urban agriculture is generally associated with serious problems relating to environmental degradation. Ironically, Third World countries have largely ignored this problem even though the environmental degradation that urban agriculture causes is rampant.

Political change in Burundi has been influenced by a number of factors that cross traditional disciplinary boundaries. In this paper, the impact of folklore on national unity and division is examined in the hope of shedding light on the cultural complexities—as expressed folkloristically—that have affected the formation of rigid ethnic identities and ultimately the violent political landscape of Burundi. This research builds on Liisa Malkki's work on identity construction among Burundian Hutu refugees in Tanzania (1989; 1990; 1995) and René Lemarchand's analysis of “political discourse as a system of possible definition of ethnic selves and on how, through such discursive techniques, ethnicity is transformed, mobilized and ultimately incorporated into the horrors and irrationality of genocide violence” (Lemarchand 1994, xxii).

The political and social manipulation of folklore has the potential to exacerbate conflict along ethnic and sub-ethnic lines while it can also facilitate national and sub-national unity. Both of these processes often occur simultaneously, thus complicating the academic quest for parsimonious explanation of complex social and political phenomena. We contend that the folkloric foundation of the long-term, transformative process of identity creation needs to be factored into analyses of political change in the multi-ethnic terrain of Burundi society.

Folklore is defined in this paper as a process of narration and interpretation, which serves as an “integrated framework that comprehends narrated event and narrative event within a unified frame of reference” (Bauman 1986, 6).

An attack on Liberian government forces in Nimba County, Liberia, on Christmas Eve, 1989, ignited a full-scale civil war. It was carried out by the National Patriotic Front of Liberia (NPFL) and consisted of Libyan-trained dissidents, headed by Charles Taylor, a former employee of President Samuel Doe's government. After six months of fighting, the NPFL controlled 90 percent of Liberia and was ready to launch a final assault on the capital, Monrovia. Eight months from the start of the war, the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) sent a Nigerian-led peace-keeping force, ECOWAS Monitoring Group (ECOMOG) to put an end to the civil war. ECOWAS' military intervention failed to stop the war or to bring peace. Almost half of the Liberian population of two-and-a-half million was displaced, hundreds of thousands were killed or wounded, the economic and administrative infrastructures were destroyed, and law and order ceased to exist.

After more than a year of fighting in Liberia, the war spilled over into neighboring Sierra Leone. A force headed by Foday Saybana Sankoh, consisting of Sierra Leone dissidents of the Revolutionary United Front (RUF), launched a military attack backed by NPFL units. After gaining control over the resource-rich area of Kailahun, the RUF fought its way to the capital, Freetown. The war in Sierra Leone appeared to follow the Liberian experience: with many casualties, displacement of population, destruction of economic and administrative structures and anarchy replacing the rule of law and order.

The literature on the on-going transitions in Africa has largely ignored trade unions and workers, women, even the prodemocracy movements. Of course, they are mentioned in passing or used in examples. But there has been a dearth of detailed case studies of the role of these popular constituencies in Africa's transition and non-transition. There is enthusiastic interest in constitutional engineering, political parties, politicians and of course, elections and election monitoring. The role of workers has been particularly ignored even when the new and traditional political parties, human rights and prodemocracy movements have had to rely on this particular constituency in their contestations for power. Yet, we cannot afford to ignore the popular communities and constituencies which determine the dynamics of politics and shape the overall character of the transition from forms of authoritarianism to multiparty systems. Ironically, in spite of the initial enthusiasm for the “third wave” or “second liberation” the on-going struggle for democracy in Africa is beginning to attract a lot of pessimism leading to more nuanced and cautious evaluations of the nature, processes, institutions, actors, limitations, and prospects for democracy, democratization and the sustenance of plural politics (Lemarchand 1993; Muigai 1993; Zeleza 1994; Ihonvbere 1995a). While Harvey Glickman (1993, 3) notes that “Liberalization of politics may mean pluralization of interest articulation, but not democratic government,” Michael Bratton, Nicolas van de Walle, Samuel Decalo, Stephen Ellis and René Lemarchand have all expressed deep reservations about on-going liberalization in the continent (Glickman 1993; Bratton and van de Walle 1992; Decalo 1992; Lemarchand 1992; Ellis 1993).

The end of the Cold War and the crisis of socialism (statism) have ushered in the emergence of a “new” cycle of capitalism, which is characterized by wide ranging deregulation, privatization and vigorous globalization of capital (Cox 1994; Bienefeld 1994; Barber 1995). With this unfolding order, the role of the state in economic activity, including its protection of the vulnerable segments of society either through direct redistributive welfare mechanisms or by encouraging poverty-reducing and labor-absorbing economic activities, has come under serious attack. An ideology of free market and open global competition that increasingly limits the role of the state in economic activity has risen to prominence. According to some, a unified global economy has emerged and the global system has already entered a postnational stage (Barber 1995). While recognizing the intensification of interdependence among countries, many disagree that such a transformation has already taken place in the global system (Underhill 1994; Holm and Sorensen 1995; Boyer and Drache 1996). In most developing countries, however, the role of the state has been reduced to essentially adjusting national economies to the global economy instead of autonomously charting its own development strategy.

Under the new global order, development in Africa and in the rest of the countries of the South is widely viewed to rest largely on integration with the global economy. Policy measures that are believed to advance integration with the global economy, including promotion of exports, attraction of foreign investments, correction of macroeconomic imbalances and decontrols of prices, exchange rates and imports are almost universally promoted in these countries.

It is now widely accepted that, in many cases, the democratization process that began in Africa in 1990 has been crippled by several factors (Chazan 1994; Bratton 1994; Lemarchand 1992). These factors range from weak patterns of state-society relations to economic disequilibium. Another potential obstacle that has received little examination is the trend, particularly in West Africa, of military rulers resigning their commissions and competing in “democratic” elections designed and supervised by their regimes (The New York Times, 24 October, 1996). We call this phenomenon political transmutation. In the past five years successful transmutation has occurred in Ghana, Niger, Chad and the Gambia. The attempt failed in Nigeria in 1993, but may soon be resurrected by the current military regime. Both the incidence of this type of transition and the likelihood that there will be additional attempts requires that we carefully study the circumstances that facilitate this type of transition.

Recent democratic transitions in Eastern Europe, Latin America and Africa suggest that the ruling authoritarian regimes may seek, although not always successfully, to retain power by any means necessary. For example, Haggard and Kaufman noted that often “authoritarian regimes do not permit fully competitive elections and rely on intimidation, manipulation and cooptation to restrict the activity of independent interest groups, and political opposition” (1995, 11). In almost all the cases such regimes were characterized by single, dominant parties led by civilians. Rarely do these cases involve military rulers. It appears that the favored option for the military is to become the power behind the throne after disengaging from direct governing. Several factors account for the armed forces' reluctance to transmute their regime through elections. One is the fear that such an attempt would eventually seriously weaken the military's corporate interests.

In Japan, as in the United States, African studies is relatively new, gaining respectability only after World War II. African studies in Japan is considerably less prominent than its counterpart in the US although Africanist scholars from Japan have nonetheless made notable contributions. The increasing importance of Japan in Africa, both as a source of investment and as a source of foreign aid, is leading to an increased importance cf Japanese knowledge of Africa. In the increasingly interdependent world of the 21st century the quality of African studies in Japan will have an impact not only on Africa itself but on Africanists in other non-African countries as well.

The strengths and weaknesses of African studies in Japan are quite complementary to those of African Studies in the United States. Thus we as Africanists can learn important lessons from the Japanese experience in African Studies, and our Japanese counterparts can learn from us. This article is intended as an introduction to the nature of African studies in Japan for American (and other) Africanists in the hope that cooperation between American (and other) Africanists and their Japanese counterparts can be increased.