The partition of Africa is one of those historical processes which have been more discussed than studied. Everybody knows that between 1884 and 1898 the soil of Africa was very largely apportioned to the sovereignty of European powers; the results are written on the modern map, the details of the various agreements are not too difficult to check. Most writers on the subject, moreover, have clear views about the historical significance of the whole process; whether they regard it as a beneficent extension of the institutions and values of West European civilization or as an intolerable imposition of alien power, their evaluations derive from prior convictions rather than from empirical study. Despite the importance in contemporary African politics of polemical statements about Imperialism, for coherent accounts of the territorial partition of the continent it is still necessary to look to books written by public men before European archives were available, and indeed before the process itself was complete.

This list contains many scattered dates, most of them from sites either provisionally dated from other sources, or recently excavated. An important series of dates from the Sahara confirm earlier readings for food production in that area. The Daima sequence from Nigeria is dated from the middle of the first millennium A.D. to the closing centuries of the Iron Age.

In East and Southern Africa, two important early Iron Age dates from Kenya have been released. Four dates for Ivuna salt-pans place the site as slightly later than the closing stages of the Kalambo Falls sequence. Two more problematical dates for Engaruka have been announced, as well as a date of A.D. 410 for the Iron Age in Swaziland.

All dates given in this and subsequent lists are radiocarbon ages, rather than readings in calendar years.

The eighteenth-century French slave trade claimed the lives of at least 150,000 African captives and 20,000 French crewmembers. Traditionally, the ‘Middle Passage’ has been held responsible for these deaths, but detailed information from the port of Nantes shows that the time spent on the African coast could be just as deadly as the crossing, at least for the crew. During the century nearly 8 percent of the crews died along the coast, compared with 5 per cent at sea. The African death rate for the crew actually rose in the second half of the century because increased competition made for longer stays in Africa. At the same time, faster crossing times led to a decline in the death rate at sea and yielded a fairly constant overall rate for the century.

The situation was somewhat different for the captives. Although the data are less comprehensive, they indicate a generally declining mortality rate during the century. This was due ultimately to reduced sailing times from Africa to the West Indies. Like the crewmembers, the captives benefited from the quicker crossings of the post-1763 period. Unlike the crew, however, captives were less affected by the increased time in African waters. More familiar with the African environment, they did not suffer as much from the extended stay along the coast, and by the end of the century slave mortality was lower than crew mortality. Unfortunately, the data are lacking to relate mortality either to trading sites in Africa or to Caribbean destinations.

These maps show the paths of central eclipse for 164 total solar eclipses visible in Africa in the period A.D. 1000 to 2000. It is hoped that they may suggest periods and areas where records of eclipses might be found in oral tradition or other sources, and also that they, or their originals, will assist in at least the preliminary stages of identifying such a record with a particular eclipse. The originals have been drawn on a scale of 1: 10,000,000, and photographic copies of these and the master grid are available, on indestructible plastic, price £7. 10s. the set, from the Editors of the Journal of African History.

This article tries to throw light on one aspect of the ‘business partition’ of Africa, namely Anglo–erman economic rivalry on the Rand between 1886 and 1900. It examines the activities of the German-owned Netherlands South African Railway Company (N.Z.A.S.M.), which possessed the monopoly of construction and management of all railways connecting the republic with a seaport. The article assesses this company's impact upon the relations of the South African Republic with both the maritime colonies of the Cape and Natal and with Great Britain. Whitehall regarded the N.Z.A.S.M. as the fountainhead of ever-increasing German commercial and political penetration in the Transvaal and also considered the railway company hostile to its interests in that it allegedly discriminated against British commerce. The gold-mining industry also viewed the company with hostility, since its high freightrates increased the price of imported machinery, foodstuffs, etc. The South African Republic, on the other hand, saw the N.Z.A.S.M. as a useful means of access to both the German and Dutch capital markets, while the company arranged for diplomatic lobbying in Berlin and The Hague in favour of the Republic.

By 1898, German mining interests on the Rand had managed to persuade Berlin that their interests were not served by either the Kruger regime or the German-owned N.Z.A.S.M. and that an administration more favourably disposed towards their objectives, and possibly imposed by force by the British, should not be opposed. It is therefore argued that the South African War was prompted mainly by the desire to establish British commercial hegemony on the Rand, to safeguard the interests of international mining capital and to create a more pliable polity capable of articulating and responding to these particular economic imperatives.

It has been observed for a long time that the states of the Eastern Niger Delta responded in recognizable ways to the introduction of European overseas trade in slaves and palm-oil from the sixteenth through the nineteenth century. It is suggested here that by the time of European advent these states were already in the process of profound changes in response to other internal situations.

First, migration from the fresh water Central Delta to the salt-water Eastern Delta (possibly before A.D. 1000) dictated changes. A change from a farming to a fishing economy led to changes in the social and political system.

Second, the inability of the fishing economy to satisfy all the basic needs of these communities led to the growth of long distance trade to the hinterland and to other parts of the Niger Delta. This trade set in motion other structural changes which were accelerated by the European overseas trade.

Thus were the institutions of the farming village, based largely on age and the simple lineage, developed into the kingship (before about 1400) and House system (before about 1600) of the states of the Eastern Niger Delta, described variously as city-states and trading states.

The army of Samori Ture in 1887 was recruited from four sources: the regular army of sofa (infantrymen with firearms), the conscripted reserve of kurustigi, detachments sent by chiefs under Samori's protection, and a cavalry force consisting in part, perhaps, of volunteers. The emphasis on infantry rather than cavalry differentiated it from the armies of other nineteenth-century Islamic reformers.

Among the factors which influenced the structure and tactics of the army, as well as the diplomatic and military strategy of the Samorian state, were the supply of firearms and horses. Initially the Samorian army was armed with muskets from the coast, primarily Freetown, and horses from the north-western part of the Sudan. From mid-1891 to mid-1892 the muskets were replaced with breechloaders and repeaters obtained by direct negotiation between Samori and Freetown traders, and during this period or before it an indigenous firearms industry was established. After this, the French advance cut Samori off, partially at least, from his sources of supply; from 1893–98 the search for new supply areas was a major preoccupation of the Samorian regime. Arms came from the Ivory Coast and the Gold Coast, and horses from the Mossi states. Here, as formerly in the west, Samori was able to use existing trade routes.

Historians have written extensively about agricultural extension services and the linkages between colonial administrations and rural communities in British Africa. Most studies argue that it is possible to identify a qualitative shift in strategies between the inter- and the post-war periods. The former is characterized by modest attempts at promoting soil conservation, while the latter is described as a period when colonial governments in British Africa – guided by scientific knowledge – tried to transform peasant agriculture to increase production. This article questions this division by using colonial Malawi as a case. It reveals that the strategies and intensity of agricultural extension services changed over time but that the aim of intervention, i.e. to combat soil erosion, remained the focal point throughout the colonial period. This shows that it is important to distinguish between strategies and scale of intervention on the one hand and their aims and contents on the other. Changes in the former took place within the conservation paradigm. Additionally, this article reveals that agricultural extension services were directed by colonial officials' perceptions about African farmers rather than detailed empirical knowledge about existing farming methods.

In 1918, Faith Tabernacle Congregation was established in southern colonial Ghana. This Philadelphia-based church flourished in the context of colonialism, cocoa, and witchcraft, spreading rapidly after the 1918–19 influenza pandemic. In this context, several healing cults also proliferated, but Faith Tabernacle was particularly successful because the church offered its members spiritual, social, and legal advantages. The church's leadership was typically comprised of young Christian capitalist men, whose literacy and letter writing enabled the establishment of an American church without any missionaries present. By 1926, when Faith Tabernacle began its decline, at least 177 branches had formed in southern Ghana, extending into Togo and Côte d'Ivoire, with over 4,400 members.

Although the territory of the Kisama was involved in military conflicts with the Portuguese from the very beginning, because of its geographical situation it was not subjugated permanently until the twentieth century. A few chiefdoms, which are traceable through the centuries in the sources, played an important role (Ndemba, Kimone kia Songa, Kafushe Kambare, etc.). A number of different factors were favourable to the resistance of the Kisama. The Portuguese were never really interested in this province, apart from the safeguarding of shipping on the Kwanza. No mineral wealth tempted them there. Even the conquest of the salt mine of Ndemba was undertaken mainly to clear and secure the way to the hoped for silver mines of Cambambe. On the one hand, the great lack of water during the dry season made the provisioning of an army there difficult. On the other hand, at least in the Kwanza region, the dreaded tropical diseases were endemic. For the slave trade, the interior, especially Kasanje, was more profitable. Later, when the neighbouring Libolo increased in importance because of the new trade centres in the Ovimbundu territory (Bihe, Bailundu, etc.), Kisama remained off the beaten track. It is only now that the seclusion of this province, which has one of the game parks of Angola within its borders, will in all probability come to an end because of the discovery of a series of oil fields.

The strike at the Wankie Colliery in 1912 offers the labour historian of central Africa an opportunity to explore in some depth the economic and social context of an African response within a colonial industry. The system of cheap labour at Wankie periodically combined with severe production pressures to produce outbreaks of scurvy amongst the African miners. In normal years, workers alleviated the need for nutritious food by scouring the surrounding countryside but this was not possible in a drought year. Under drought conditions the outbreak of scurvy, limited access to alternative food resources and the maldistribution of rations within the compound all assumed increased importance. The policies and practices of the acting compound manager and his black compound staff served further to exacerbate tensions in the Wankie compound and precipitate a strike.

Although the strike at Wankie offers further evidence of worker consciousness in early Rhodesian industry the events in the compound should not be interpreted as a sign of real or potential African radicalism. Closer examination of the African responses at Wankie reveal the essentially conservative nature of many of the demands made by the workers. It seems possible that in Rhodesia the power of the state over a colonial political economy and the repressive nature of the compound system combined to inhibit more radical responses. At Wankie, workers questioned the functioning of a repressive system, not the system itself. In many respects events at Wankie were typical of the Rhodesian mining industry and as such the strike serves to illustrate the vulnerable class position of African workers in a colonial economy.

This article draws attention to the possible importance of coffee exports from Ethiopia before the mid-nineteenth century. They may well have been a factor in attempts by Ethiopian emperors in the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries to develop trade in Yaman, in India and with the Dutch in Java. By 1690, coffee was being exported from Zayla, and perhaps by other outlets. In 1705 and 1737 there were unsuccessful attempts by Europeans to obtain coffee direct from Ethiopia, though meanwhile the growth of plantations in European colonies had rendered such effort superfluous. Nonetheless, Ethiopia contributed to the Red Sea coffee trade during the eighteenth century, and it seems likely that coffee was exported from Enarya as well as from Harar. The kingdom of Shawa was well situated to exploit the development of coffee exports from the south-western highlands, and they would have assisted Shawa's efforts to distance itself from upheavals further north during the Zamana Masafent. The coffee trade may therefore have been more significant in the rise of Shawa in the later eighteenth and earlier nineteenth centuries than historians have hitherto allowed.

The fortunes of Angoche revived with the growth of the slave trade, and during the 1840s it became the chief slaving port of the Moçambique coast. Numerous attacks were made on it by British and Portuguese expeditions, and the town was finally seized in 1861 by the Portuguese adventurer da Silva. The Muslims who fled from Portuguese occupation were led first by Mussa Quanto, and then, after his death in 1877, by Ussene and Farelay. They were able to confine the Portuguese to a few coastal garrisons, continue the slave trade until the end of the century, and gradually build up an anti-Portuguese ‘front’ amongst the Macua peoples of the hinterland. Farelay was not overthrown and the Macua country was not occupied by the Portuguese until 1910.

Between 1935 and 1960 a peculiar patterning of forced labour developed on Mozambique's lower Zambezi. By the beginning of the Salazar era a particular style of history had been imprinted upon Mozambique. Large scale recruiting of labour for the mines and farms of southern Africa coupled with mass migrations of Mozambique's people to escape the oppressions of Portuguese administration resulted in a severe labour shortage which companies operating in the colony had to face. Exacerbating this problem was the Portuguese decision in the mid-1930s to compel the colonies to produce enough cotton for the demands of the empire. To protect its position vis-à-vis already scarce male labour, the Sena Sugar Estates Ltd., Mozambique's largest employer of labour, formulated a system by which only female labour would cultivate cotton, leaving the men free to work in the company's sugar fields. This system, which was adopted in the 1940s by other employers of labour, led to severe oppression of the local people, notably the women, who were caught between the conflicting demands of interests more powerful than themselves. Only in the late 1950s and early 1960s did the pressures of the forced cultivation system end.

This article seeks to re-examine the contemporary evidence about the early history of the Maravi chieftaincies of northern Zambesia. It challenges the view that the Maravi were long established in Zambesia and became aggressive and expansionist in the late sixteenth century when the Portuguese interfered with the ivory trade. Instead it suggests that these chieftaincies were only formed in the second half of the sixteenth and the first half of the seventeenth century by a number of different groups who migrated into the region north of the Zambezi and who conquered the existing population. Some of these intrusive groups crossed the Zambezi and attacked the wealthy Karanga states to the south, but these invasions were frustrated by the Portuguese who blocked all attempts to settle south of the river. Defeated in their efforts, the Maravi chiefs turned aside to invade the Mozambique lowlands. It was one of these incursions that in the 1580s gave rise to the legend of the marauding, cannibal Zimba.

The establishment of settled Maravi states occurred only as a result of the rise of Muzura in the first half of the seventeenth century. He defeated his rivals with Portuguese aid but was, in his turn, frustrated in his attempts to interfere in Karangaland, and in the end was badly defeated by the Portuguese in 1632. Thereafter he concentrated his activity on developing the ivory trade with the Portuguese on the Zambezi and in Mozambique Island, while the region south of the Zambezi became subject to Portuguese warlords and the trade monopoly of the captain of Mozambique.

Early in the twentieth century, French and British colonial scholars developed rigid, descent-based models of African pastoral societies. These models emphasized stasis partly because the scholars relied on unrepresentative samples of the pastoralists' views of their own societies, and partly because the scholars simply misinterpreted data. By the 1970s anthropologists had radically revised these models, arguing that although pastoralists generally defined themselves in terms of descent, their societies were nevertheless quite dynamic. In their view, descent was an idiom of social discourse; while pastoral societies may have operated according to the idiom in the past, the economic changes brought about by colonialism had ruptured the connection between the ideology and social practice. More recently, historians have begun to argue that pastoral societies were also dynamic before colonialism, and that there was great flexibility in the ways pastoralists reckoned social identities.

This essay draws on evidence from the nineteenth-century western Sahara to argue that pastoral societies were dynamic long before the colonial period, and that many Saharans perceived their society in this way. This evidence was neglected by the early colonial scholars and many post-colonial anthropologists in favor of those descriptions that emphasized stasis. Saharan accounts that described social dynamism were often based on the explicitly Islamic model of the Prophet Muhammad and his diverse community of supporters. This model, then and throughout Islamic history, has offered the possibility of social improvement, and therein lies the explanation for why some Saharans interpreted society as static while others saw it as dynamic. Social models that fix groups into specific ranks according to descent serve the interests of those at the higher ranks, while dynamic models serve to legitimize social mobility.

Although the importance of the African role in the South African War (1889-1902) is now recognized, this study of the Bakgatala ba ga Kgafela is the first to demonstrate an African perception of events and argue that the Kgatla initiated military action and pursued goals independent of a simple British vs. Boer formula. The war created major economic and political opportunities for the Kgatla, a people physically separated and colonially partitioned. Half the Kgatla lived in the Kgatla Reserve of the British-ruled Bechuanaland Protectorate, and the other half lived in the Saulspoort area of the western Transvaal under Boer rule. Their leader, Linchwe I (1874–1924), maintained his capital at Mochudi in the Protectorate and received only partial allegiance from the Saulspoort Kgatia. Soon after the war began, Linchwe involved his regiments actively in fighting alongside the British in the Protectorate and raiding on their own in the Transvaal in an effort to eliminate Boer settlement and political control in Saulspoort and other areas of the western Transvaal. Kgatia regiments also emptied Boer farms of cattle which, in addition to restoring the national herd decimated by the 1897 rinderpest, Linchwe used in establishing his political hold over the Saulspoort Kgatia. Protectorate officials were grateful for Kgatia support, but Linchwe disguised the extent and nature of Kgatia operations and concealed from the British his political objectives. Linchwe's campaign made possible in the years following the war the reunification of the Kgatia under his authority, the distribution of wealth among all his people and the reduction of colonial interference in the political lives of his people.

The Funj Sultanate was the most easterly of the chain of Muslim dynastic States which at one time stretched south of the Sahara through Bilād al-Sūdān. Founded early in the sixteenth Christian century (tenth Hijri¯; century) by a king traditionally called ‘Amāra Dūnqas, its centre was on the Blue Nile, around the town of Sennar (Sinnār).

Not long ago the present writer observed that the oldest original Nigerian chancery documents so far reported to survive go back to about the year 1820, and bear the seals of Muhammad Bello, Sultan of Sokoto, and of Muhammad al-Amīn, Sultan of Bornu. It is virtually certain that in time earlier specimens than these will come to light, and especially original examples of the letters issued by the founder of the Sokoto dynasty, Usuman dan Fodio himself. Concerning official letters and autographs of Dan Fodio, indeed, unconfirmed reports have come in on several occasions. Pending their documentation, it may be of interest to present here a more than usually authoritative transcript of a letter issued by the Shehu Dan Fodio, which has lately come into the custody of the Jos Museum, and which offers proof (were any needed) that chancery letters in the Arabic language played a part in Dan Fodio's system of government.