Many social scientists have examined the intricacies of modernisation, political modernisation, and political development, but they have not clearly distinguished between these concepts. Their research emphasis has been on the instruments of change, such as political parties, ideologies, and charismatic leaders, and they have insufficiently delved into the issue of what actually changes during the processes of modernisation and political development. In addition, a number of analyses are unintentionally culturally biased as many western values are viewed as ‘positive’, and the ultimate ends of historical evolution which are presented seemingly suffer from ethnocentric wish-fulfilment.

This article is a theoretical exploration of the problem of explaining political instability in new states, especially those of Africa. It begins with a critical evaluation of current tendencies of interpretation, and then goes on to suggest how we might construct a more adequate theory.

Explanations of political instability in the new states usually stress one or more of five related factors: cultural heterogeneity, low regime legitimacy, lack of coercive power, economic backwardness, and structural simplicity. Let us examine each of these factors.

The greatest achievement of Arabism in the Sudan has been the unquestioned acceptance by the whole world that this is an Arab state, in spite of the fact that only about 40 per cent of the population is Arab. Indeed, the predominance of the Arab Sudanese in the country's culture, politics, administration, commerce, and industry makes it de facto an Arab state. The ascendancy and assertiveness of the Arabs caused the North–South conflict to be almost intractable, while their economic and political domination led even the Northern Muslims to begin to assert themselves, although they had traditionally looked with favour upon assimilation into Arab culture.

Since 1949–53, when the Nigerian élite was first consulted by the British in a constitutional review, the peoples of Nigeria have engaged in a continual regional, communal, and class struggle for a share in the economic benefits resulting from decolonisation and independence, and the accompanying modernisation. The two coups d'état of 1966 and the civil war of 1967–70 were the most virulent of these struggles. This article analyses economic factors contributing to the Nigeria–Biafra conflict and the interrelated coups. Except for a brief discussion of the colonial economic legacy, the emphasis is upon the decade or two prior to the war.

Franco-African relations have come under increasing fire during the past few years. African dissatisfaction with various aspects of the co-operation agreements between France and her former colonies is not new, but has recently been more clearly articulated and specifically focused on the structure and regulations of the franc zone which, it is argued, tend to make African states excessively dependent on France.

There are few objectives considered more compelling by developing countries than the need to attain their economic freedom. Throughout the Third World, from Bolivia and Botswana to Burma, few themes arouse such mass enthusiasm as the clarion call to economic independence. However, despite its potency in shaping many national goals and policies, very little intellectual effort has been expended in analysing the concept and exploring its ramifications in the realms of politics, economics, or sociology.

Up to the last quarter of the nineteenth century, Ethiopia remained essentially what it had been for centuries – a highly isolated, thoroughly traditional, fervently Christian kingdom. During the closing decades of the last century, the kingdom was greatly enlarged through a vast territorial expansion southwards which created the Ethiopian empire as it is today, and established the Christian Ethiopians as the dominant group within the heterogeneous state. The expansion, and the contemporary appearance of European imperialism in the Horn of Africa, helped to break down the historic isolation of this ancient society. In the decades that followed, sporadic attempts to introduce modernisation in Ethiopia had only a superficial impact, and it was only after World War II, following a brief but painful experience with Italian colonialism during 1935–41, that this process commenced in earnest.

One characteristic which all countries presently hold in common — whatever their level of income — is the tendency for a growing proportion of the population to be employed in the ‘service sector’ of their economies rather than in ‘secondary’ or industrial activities. The purpose of this short article is to suggest that a consideration of certain features of the expanding employment in services in low-income countries may help to evaluate two commonly identified situations. First, in regard to manufacturing activities there has been a persistent tendency towards increasing capital intensity, despite the frequent assertion that resort should be made to more labour intensive technology in order to ‘spread’ jobs more widely. Secondly, the pace of urbanisation has continued to accelerate, despite widespread concern over high rates of urban unemployment and under-employment that seem a consequence of excessive migration to the cities.

This study attempts to measure and analyse the importance of deficit finance in the economic development of the Sudan during the period 1960–9, mainly covered by the Ten-Year Plan of Economic and Social Development, 1961/2 to 1970/1, not implemented beyond 1969. In the light of these findings I shall also review the implications for the success of the present Five-Year Plan, 1970/1 to 1974/5, but since I am basically concerned with the rôle of deficit finance, I shall not attempt to appraise the overall national economic policies and trends, although these significant variables obviously affect each other.

Unlike many other African countries, Liberia is endowed with an impressive capacity for rapid economic development. Not only are her natural resources rich enough to finance this, but in relation to her population they are, indeed, capable of ensuring unimpeded growth in her output per capita.1 This article deals with Liberia's development during the last two decades. It shows the marked and rapid growth in the product of her economy, and how this has yielded a subtle and gradual improvement in the life of her people.

‘In the national interest we have decided to take 51% of the shares of the Standard Bank and Barclays Bank.’

It is a comparatively recent development that places housing not only as one of the main targets in the national plan, but also as a vital means of achieving other social and economic objectives.1 Admirable though this may be, a number of difficulties can arise in practice, particularly with regard to the question of new housing where many dwellings may be on unsuitable sites and require relocation or extensive redevelopment. The point is that remedial measures are likely to have only short-term effects, unless several underlying – and often conflicting – variables are taken into account. Four such variables have assumed importance in the planning for future housing needs in the Greater Manzini Area of Swaziland, and it is the purpose of this article to illustrate how policies relating to industrial location, urban growth, and housing, interact with the tenurial system in force.

Until the late 1950s it was conventional wisdom in East Africa that the major problem of manpower development was one of attracting and retaining sufficient numbers of workers into the European-controlled labour force. Strategies, however, differed radically between plantation agriculture and industry. In Kenya the Government published two reports in 1955 on wages which well illustrate the contrast, and provide valuable insight into the interests involved in the formation of employment policies in a colonial economy.

This article originated in the study of one Northern Ghanaian group, the Frafras, as migrants to the urban areas of Southern Ghana. It describes the economic activities of the low-income section of the labour force in Accra, the urban sub-proletariat into which the unskilled and illiterate majority of Frafra migrants are drawn.

Price inflation, inadequate wages, and an increasing surplus to the requirements of the urban labour market have led to a high degree of informality in the income-generating activities of the sub-proletariat. Consequently income and expenditure patterns are more complex than is normally allowed for in the economic analysis of poor countries. Government planning and the effective application of economic theory in this sphere has been impeded by the unthinking transfer of western categories to the economic and social structures of African cities. The question to be answered is this: Does the ‘reserve army of urban unemployed and underemployed’ really constitute a passive, exploited majority in cities like Accra, or do their informal economic activities possess some autonomous capacity for generating growth in the incomes of the urban (and rural) poor?

THE objective of this article is to contribute to our understanding of the unemployment problem in Kenya through an analysis of trends in employment in both large- and small-scale agriculture. First, the major movements that have been occurring within agriculture are described, and the importance of investment in education is emphasised to explain movements out of this sector. Secondly, the effects of past government programmes on the employment capacity of small-scale agriculture are related to still outstanding problems of regional disparities resulting from differential access to knowledge, finance, and material inputs. Lastly, employment trends in large-scale agriculture are compared and related to the adoption of new technology and changing farm structures.

A COMMON premise in the study of central–local relations in new states is the belief that governments attempt to extend their authority into most areas of socio–economic and political life. By exerting influence within a variety of distinct spheres of activity throughout the national territory, central authorities are supposed to create connections between national institutions and potential arenas for the exercise of central power. These ‘structures’, such as local administration, political parties, schools, and programmes as diverse as agricultural extension and family planning, are intended to be the orgartisational skeleton of the new state. Their success in relating central authority to specific localities, political movements, and development problems is supposed to indicate the degree of institutionalisation of a regime and its level of development.1 Observers of this process examine the ‘penetration’ of public policy into local areas, the expansion of the influence of central authority on traditional political and administrative arrangements, and the gradual incorporation of the ‘periphery’ into the process of decision-making at the ‘centre’. While differing in form and content across national boundaries, the ‘crisis of penetration’ is understood to be a common experience in the political development of new states.2

No question is currently more topical in development studies than that of employment. This strong concern, which has been linked to income distribution and continuing poverty, as well as more-or-less open unemployment1, is relatively recent in origin. It has generated a number of missions to developing countries by the I.L.O., seen the design (by the same international organisation) of a world employment programme, and given rise to much academic writing. One mildly puzzling feature is that many policies have been prescribed on very limited data.

Soviet relations with the countries of black Africa have been of considerable interest to many western scholars. They have examined extensively the history of these relations, their shifting doctrinal bases, and the many formidable problems Soviet policy-makers have encountered in the pursuit of their stated objectives.1 A frequently overlooked aspect is the scholarly research of a group of Africanists whose activities appear to be inextricably linked with overall Soviet efforts in Africa.

Concern with the social and economic consequences of inflation has induced the governments of most African states to introduce statutory price controls. Thus, of the 25 countries covered by the International Monetary Fund's Surveys of African Economies,1 all but four or five had introduced price-control legislation, and other important examples not covered by these volumes include Nigeria, Ghana, Guinea, and Liberia. Economists tend to be sceptical about the desirability and effectiveness of such controls, and this article attempts to throw some light on this issue, as it relates to the circumstances of tropical Africa, by examining the operation of price regulations in Ghana during the 1960s.

The development of African studies in our time has unearthed what is regarded as a storehouse of esoteric lore, a happy hunting ground for ethnologists, anthropologists, and linguists, a paradise for the mythopoeic and archetypal critic. But as literature? Indeed, some ‘civilised’ people still feel a strange unease that the black man should have a literature at all. Yet African oral and written materials, even a decade or two ago regarded primarily as of ethnological and anthropological interest, are today being investigated as authentic literature, part of the international mainstream. Black literature has arrived.