An Arab leadership within the Third World has been emerging since 1973. Since that year, major diplomatic initiatives on a wide range of issues relevant to the third World have in fact originated from the Arabs. Countries of the Third World are basically producers of raw materials and other primary commodities. The whole struggle for a New International Economic Order (NIEO) has to some extent been led by the Arabs. Some Third World causes have been championed by some Arab countries, and have been pushed by them into the main arenas of international diplomacy. Algeria virtually initiated the raw materials debate at the United Nations in 1974. This was followed by the special session of the General Assembly in 1975. The 1970s witnessed the beginning of a serious consideration of the issue of restructuring the world economy.

This paper represents an essay into Africanist social history and experimental biography. Thirteen years ago the pages of this journal carried a debate between Ali Mazrui and Hailu Habtu concerning Western and Semitic (Arab and Jewish) cultural influences in subsaharan Africa. In response to Professor Mazrui’s argument on the Jewish religious, metaphorical, economic, and political impact on Black Africa (foreshadowing Greco-Roman and Islamic influences), Professor Habtu vigorously rejected the “hidden premise...of an African cultural vacuum, or near-vacuum, destined to be filled by ‘universalistic’ civilizations.”

Since attaining independence nearly every African government has initiated a national planning exercise founded on the recognition that the technological imperatives of specialization and exchange essential for modern development require large markets, large capital investments, a broad range of natural resources, and the training of skilled manpower—all of which require mobilization of resources at least on a national level. Plans limited to allocating resources merely on a village or even on a regional level would be incapable of contributing to significant increases of productivity because such small units lack these essential prerequisites. However, the record of national planning in Africa has not been very successful in contributing to significant development (Waterston 1965). This is particularly true if development is defined—as it will be throughout this article—as increasing productivity in all sectors of the economy accompanied by raising the levels of living of the broadest masses of the population.

The somewhat dismal record of national plans underscores the realization voiced by more and more development theorists: development cannot be attained merely by transplanting to Africa the refined planning techniques devised to allocate resources in developed countries such as input-output tables, linear programming, or macro-economic models based on assumed capital-output ratios. This is true in part because the lack of adequate data requires that many of the essential coefficients must simply be “invented,” which, over time is likely to lead to results seriously deviating from planned goals (Lewis 1966, especially pp. 15, 20-21).

I remember that it was a Monday. I had been running with my partner over lunch time and we had just returned to my office in town. The doorbell rang and standing outside were about nine policemen and women. Demanding entry, one of the senior officers brandished a search warrant for “pornographic material.”

I was so angry I didn’t know what to do with myself. I had been targeted simply because I worked for the national Zimbabwean lesbian and gay organization. Furthermore, the police had no broader agenda other than to intimidate and harass me under the pretext of searching for pornography.

The World Bank has become a subject of controversy, of learned discourse and endless debates between the Left and the Right. The Bank has become the foremost multilateral international lending agency, with an expanding role covering a variety of sectors and involving billions of dollars worth of loans to the Third World, on terms that are not available from commercial banks.

As its role expanded, the Bank began to draw increasing attention, both favorable and critical. The London Economist recently called it “a bank for all seasons.” It is viewed differently by different people, depending on their ideological positions or perspectives. These perspectives may be reduced to two basic positions, divided along a Left/Center axis and a Center/Right axis.

The Left critique has found the Bank—on its record—an instrument of Western corporate capital (Hayter, 1972; Payer, 1982; Bello, 1982). The thrust of the Leftist argument is that the Bank has not proved to be useful to the great mass of the Third World peoples, and that the ruling elites of its borrowing countries have derived benefits from its lending activities. The argument also holds that multinational corporations stand behind its activities also benefiting by selling their goods, which are not a matter of basic necessity to the ordinary peoples.

The Centrist position is essentially supportive of the Bank's role as an important vehicle for the transfer of resources for development of the Third World and as a facilitator of trade among nations (Reid, 1975; Hurni, 1978; Krueger, 1982; Mason and Asher, 1974).

Gengenbach, Comé, and Nhabinde historicize women’s responses to an agricultural “value chain” in Zavala, Mozambique. Inspired by the Green Revolution for Africa (GR4A), the initiative aims to reduce hunger by converting cassava to industrial use for SABMiller’s Impala beer. Women chafed at the proposed remaking of an agrarian foodway long anchored by this edible commodity. Cassava’s inseparable dietary and market value in precolonial times intensified under Portuguese rule even as colonizers disdained it as a feminine “subsistence” crop and then claimed its commercial potential. Weaponizing this gendered binary yet needing women’s support, the Impala scheme has struggled to achieve GR4A food security goals.

When his Lord said to him, “Surrender,” he said, “I have surrendered me to the Lord of all Being.” Koran, II, 125.

Every verse of the Koran has “an outside and an inside” (Lings, 1977: 29).

The full-grown Sufi is thus conscious of being, like other men, a prisoner of a world of forms, but unlike them he is also conscious of being free, with a freedom which immeasurably outweighs his imprisonment. He may therefore be said to have two centres of consciousness, one human and one Divine, and he may speak now from one and now from another, which accounts for certain apparent contradictions (Lings, 1977: 14).

The dominant forms of Islam which have penetrated sub-Saharan Africa in the last few centuries when Islam has taken hold of what are now predominantly Muslim regions (like the Eastern Sudan and West Africa) have been Sufi. Trimingham's (1959: 92) disparaging assessment that “(t)he orders in West Africa became ordinary non-esoteric religious associations… [which] rarely have anything to do with mysticism…,” and that “the ordinary member knows nothing of the mysticism upon which his order is based,” finds its echo in Lewis' (1980: 18) view that “their esoteric content is generally not strongly developed.” Nonetheless, the literary effusions of certain prominent African Muslim authors, like Camara Laye, Cheikh Hamidou Kane, and Tayeb Salih, seem to find inspiration in a well-defined, long-standing mystical tradition—one which has generated literary forms in addition to having supplied the ideological framework utilized by these authors. This framework varies somewhat less than do the forms adopted by the authors: Laye's and Kane's fictionalized autobiographical accounts seem to be worlds apart from the folktale or Romance which share certain qualities with Salih's Wedding of Zein and Laye's Le Regard du roi, although the two models meet, curiously enough, in Lave's Dramouss and in Salih's Season of Migration to the North.

The mandate system may be toothless but it is not bootless.

--Parker T. Moon (Imperialism and World Politics)

Students of comparative politics and international relations generally admit that one of the more outstanding political developments of the post-World War II era has been what Hans J. Morgenthau calls “the Colonial Revolution”--the granting of independence to colonial territories and dependencies in Asia and Africa. “What seemed to be almost inconceivable at the end of the Second World War,” Morgenthau comments, “has become an accomplished fact only twenty years later” (1967, p. 344). To Morgenthau this colonial revolution “is in its essence a triumph of the moral ideas of the West…carried forward under under the banner of two moral principles: national self-determination and social justice.” Organski (1968), on the other hand, sees the attainment of independence by these colonies as part of an inevitable historical movement, not necessarily owing to ideas as such: “…colonialism sows the seeds of its own destruction. No sooner is a colony conquered than its population begins to move, slowly and imperceptibly at first, then quickly and noticeably, toward political independence” (p. 234). F. H. Hinsley (1967) sees the declining strategic importance of these colonies as a partial reason for the colonial revolution. Arguing in this vein, he contends that the “withdrawal [of an imperial power] from territory since the second World War has been due…to the growing recognition that it is not vital to hold it from the strategical point of view and not feasible to hold it in the face of metropolitan opinion” (p. 359).

Over the nine years since the overthrow of Dr. Kwame Nkrumah’s regime in February 1966, Ghana has come under three different governments: that of the National Liberation Council (February 1966 to October 1969), the Progress government (late 1969 to January 1972), and the government of the National Redemption Council (1972– ). Various views have been expressed in journals and magazines where writers have tried to depict the country’s foreign policy under the different regimes. For instance, Ruth First said that the government of the National Liberation Council (NLC) pursued a pro-West policy, and the Times (London) said a day after the coup d’etat of 24 February 1966 that Ghana had “swung back to reliance on the West.” William Gutteridge, however, maintained that the NLC government had restored a degree of neutralism to the country’s foreign policy rather than abandon the policy of nonalignment and neutralism in entirety. He added that the NLC had opted for more modest pan-African policies following Nkrumah’s pan-African excesses. Other people accused the NLC government of supporting the colonialists in Africa by refusing to allow freedom fighters the opportunity to meet and organize from within Ghana.

Rwanda became a Belgian trusteeship under mandate of the Société des Nations after the first World War. With churches playing a prominent role in the political evolution of Rwanda, the two countries were closely bound together. After the 1959 revolution in Rwanda and independence in 1962, development cooperation with strong NGO input still linked them. While the genocide still has tragic influence on the new Rwanda, Belgium has undergone a political process leading to a federal state. The colonial past refers to a national past. Changes in Rwanda and Belgium question any collective attempt of mourning for a past that is very different for all parties involved.

This article addresses the question of identity in contemporary North African cinema, situating the issue within the larger context of Arab discourse on tradition and modernity. It concentrates on two filmmakers, the Moroccan Farida Benlyazid and the Algerian Nadir Moknèche, and their different perspectives on the formation of postcolonial identity (especially for women). While Benlyazid opts for a new form of Islamic feminism—spiritual Islam—Moknèche portrays, in a provocative style, how Algerian women choose practices that subvert the retraditionalization of their country.

Conflicts over local land rights between groups considered as “sons of the soil” and newcomers such as refugees can trigger autochthony-inspired violence. However, such conflicts are not always manifested, even when the conditions are in place. The question we explore in this article is whether such conflicts are less likely to emerge if the “other” is from a group with a longstanding bond of interethnic allegiance with the host community. Based on ethnographic data from host–refugee communities in Grand Gedeh, Liberia, we revisit previous attempts to explain economic and social relations between majority and minority groups. Our main finding is that in this part of Africa no prior special status will fundamentally alter the established ways of incorporating strangers into the community.

This article explores the representation of Africa in director Edward Zwick's 2006 film Blood Diamond, examining in particular the ways in which the film's liberal-humanitarian orientation works to demonize black African communities, nationalisms, and governments while constituting a white and largely American subject as the center of ethical value. The article also examines the film's account of diamond consumption as a global phenomenon, and considers the ways in which sound and vision operate to devalue black diasporic as well as black continental African subjects.

Dr. Ezekiel Mphahlele spoke at the end of the session yesterday, and since there is considerable misunderstanding about at least one of the points he made, he has offered to make a clarification this morning.

Yesterday I got the impression that people left the meeting under the impression that I was trying to be an iconoclast and trying to bust things up. I am always considered to be a bull in a china shop. But far be it from me to want to bust people’s games up. Just before I spoke, my longstanding friend from the University of Nigeria at Nsukka, Donatus Nwoga, said the same things in so many words, expressing a wish that he could be back home.