A noted economist (Perroux) has defined socialism as ‘le développement de tout l'homme et de tous les hommes’. Providing the motor for a drive towards socialism there is generally to be found a conviction that man's creative potential can only be fully realised in a society which transcends the cultural centrality of “possessive individualism’ and in which a signal measure of economic and social equality, the preconditions for genuine political democracy, are guaranteed. In the best of socialist intellectual work, however, socialists have been equally interested in economic development and in the full release of the potential for growth of the productive forces in a society. Within this tradition it was perhaps Marx who most dramatically fused the concern for economic development and the concern for the elimination of class inequalities in his presentation of the socialist case. He argued that the inequalities of the bourgeois society of his day increasingly meant that the potential of the available industrial machine would not be realised: inequality and muffled productive forces thus went hand in hand’.1

In this article, I try to translate what America means to a MuKongo, the ordinary inhabitant of the province of Kongo Central in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The subject has the advantage of being to some extent marginal among Kongo beliefs, and therefore more readily isolable, but it is not without relevance to international affairs.

Viewed from the higher echelons of government in the new nations, the rural leader is an insignificant individual who goes about managing his local affairs and carrying out—with varying degrees of success—the policies and hopes of the government. Viewed from below, from the inner recesses of the village, the leader is a man of authority; a man who has used wealth, heredity, or personal magnetism to gain a position of influence. As seen by nation builders and development experts, the rural leader is tacitly pointed to as the key to success. It is he who can mobilise the people. It is through him that more energy will be expended, more muscles used, and more attitudes changed. Conversely, it is the leader's lack of initiative that will entrench the status quo and doom the modernisation schemes before they begin.

This admirable analysis of the role of traditional leaders among the Nyamwezi in Tanzania throws light on some of the most intriguing problems of government in contemporary Africa. Recent reports from African societies confirm Dr Miller's finding that the traditional rulers are not withering away, but on the contrary have survived and are helping their people to adapt to the modern state. This would not be surprising had not many of the revolutionary and non-revolutionary leaders of the modern African states shown such hostility to the traditional leaders. Many politicians felt that the chiefs were reactionary and should be eliminated so that the African states could modernise and develop. Other modern leaders favoured retaining the chiefs while encouraging or coercing them to help modernise their societies. A few modern leaders felt that the chiefs should be honoured as custodians of the cherished values of their respective societies. But even here the hope was that the chief would help in a dialectical process of change by providing a secure base from which the society could take off.

The modern military development of the British East and West African territories reached its highest level during World War II. Great Britain at that time put aside her standing policy of maintaining establishments sufficient only for colonial domestic needs and recruited forces for general use against Germany, Italy, and Japan.1 Building on a base provided by the Royal West African Frontier Force and the King's African Rifles of East and Central Africa, Britain recruited approximately 470,000 Africans during the war, including over 65,000 from the Gold Coast and 77,000 from Uganda; about 80 per cent of these were serving when the war ended. Although the majority enlisted in army infantry or service corps, tens of thousands served as artisans and technicians, and others in small naval and air establishments. Modern war requirements caused not only a restructuring of African colonial forces, but also forced considerable changes in military recruitment. The 'martial races' traditionally favoured by British officers had to be supplemented by large numbers of skilled and literate recruits from other African peoples; for example, the Ibo, Baganda, and Kikuyu. This rapid expansion of the forces also meant an increased need for British commissioned and non-commissioned officers, who were recruited from Great Britain as well as locally. The many different languages spoken by the new forces meant that simple English displaced Hausa in the west and, to a lesser degree, Swahili in the east, as the standard military language.

The general assumption often made by writers that the ex-soldiers played a significant role in the politics of Nigeria breaks down when subjected to critical analysis.1 It is true that these men were potentially excellent material, who could have been effectively utilised in the struggle against colonial rule because of their training, their newly-acquired confidence, and their experience of the outside world. However, certain factors rendered their role as a group insignificant in the history of the nationalist movement in the country.

Writing in 1962, Professor Roland Young of Northwestern University observed, with reference to both rural and urban Africa, ‘In carrying on research in African politics an area which compels attention is the local community, defined however one wishes: tribal cluster, village, or adrninistrative district. One might wish that political scientists had become interested at an earlier date in the study of small political systems indigenous to Africa.’1 There should be little doubt that local government is important in Africa because its operations are more or less coterminous with the rural areas in which the majority of Africans live. Indigenous Africa does not lie in the westernised cities but in the rural areas, where central governments appear remote, impersonal, and incomprehensibly awesome. Because of its closeness to the community, local government is one of the most realistic agencies for the transformation of rural Africa. Local governments are thus strategically placed to playa crucial role in the politics of development.

Neither in Switzerland generally nor in Geneva in particular did there exist an Africanist tradition when the Geneva–Africa Institute was created in 1961. The Swiss, of course, had been in Africa—as merchants, missionaries, gunrunners—but this Swiss presence did not add up to a focus of study, nor did it create the geographical areas of special interest that had shaped African studies in France, England, or Belgium. Nor has the teaching staff of the Institute been entirely Swiss. As befits an international city such as Geneva, there have been French, Italian, Hungarian, Dahomean, and American as well as Swiss members of staff.

This Administrative Research and Study Centre—a part of L'Ecole nationale d'administ ration de Tunisie—was set up by a law of 1964, which also reorganised the whole structure of E.N.A.T. The first priority was to open up a training programme for different categories of civil servants corresponding to the needs of the Tunisian administration. So it was not until April 1967 that the first research projects got under way. In one year, several publications have appeared and several others are in progress. The rapidity with which the Research and Study Centre has expanded its production is largely due to the original conception. At present, once the pump has been primed, the essential task is to build up the Centre in such a way as to increase production and to improve the quality of the studies and research work carried out.

The Regional Group for Educational Planning and Administration was instituted by U.N.E.S.C.O. at the end of 1965, to help produce and train educational planners and administrators in Africa south of the Sahara, and to encourage research, exchanges, and co-operation in this field. Established at Dakar, the Group is working directly under U.N.E.S.C.O.'s Department of Educational Planning and Finance and is co-operating with the International Institute for Educational Planning in Paris, the Regional School Building Centre for Africa at Khartoum, and other regional groups for educational planning established elsewhere in the world.

The long-heralded U.N.C.T.A.D. II took place in New Delhi's splendid conference hall, Vigyan Bhavan, equipped with every modern facility— simultaneous interpretation in five languages and a daily Journal in three, a vast secretarial staff, and an elaborate documentation service running off the millions of words written and spoken during the conference. The 133 member countries were represented, many at ministerial level, as well as all the specialised agencies and regional commissions of the United Nations, and many other international bodies. The U.N. Secretary-General himself came to inaugurate the conference with his blessing, although—significantly, perhaps—Vietnam negotiations delayed his arrival for a few days. Technical experts from all over the world were in attendance; and New Delhi felt for a time like the world capital that some say it is destined to become.

This conference, held under the auspices of the British Ministry of Overseas Development, was the twenty-first in the series of annual University of Cambridge Overseas Studies Committee conferences. Originally devoted to colonial administration and development, especially in Africa, their concern has now spread to the third world as a whole. All the same, among the 150-odd academics, administrators, and politicians who attended, Africans and Africanists still predominated, as did African examples in the 14 papers presented.

This seminar, held at the Kenya Institute of Administration under the auspices of the Commonwealth Foundation, was attended by the principals and some of the staff of schools and institutes of public administration in Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, Mauritius, Malawi, Zambia, Lesotho, Swaziland, and Botswana; in addition, C.A.F.R.A.D. and E.C.A. were represented by observers. The proceedings were under the general chairmanship of J. E. Kariuki, principal of the Kenya Institute of Administration. Papers on five main subjects formed the basis for discussion.

This year's annual seminar of the Scandinavian Institute of African Studies, organised by Professor Carl Gösta Widstrand, the director of the Institute, was devoted to boundary problems. It was an interisciplinary gathering, attended by some 30 scholars, from 12 countries. The daily proceedings were divided into two: in the mornings, the papers were delivered as public lectures at the University, and in the afternoons, the seminar met for discussion.

Organised by the Economic Commission for Africa, with the Government of Niger as host, this meeting brought together delegates from 16 African Governments (11 French-speaking, 5 English-speaking) and observer/ participants from the United Nations and its specialised agencies (I.L.O., U.N.E.S.C.O., U.N.I.C.E.F., F.A.O., W.H.O.), the O.A.U., the World Assembly of Youth, the World Y.W.C.A., the Organisation internationale des employeurs, and the All Africa Conference of Churches.

The latest C.A.F.R.A.D. seminar dealt with an urgent issue in Africa today, for almost everywhere education is one of the main priorities and educational administration one of the main problems. Over 40 civil servants, with wide specialist knowledge and responsibilities, came from 26 different African states; there were seven senior educationalists from Morocco—a sign of the importance attached by the local Government both to the seminar and to C.A.F.R.A.D.