Der. Begriff ‘hamitisch’ gehört mit zu den bisher am schwersten zu fassenden Problemen der Afrikanistik. Die Gründe dafür liegen einerseits in der phänotypen Verschiedenheit innerhalb der als ‘hamitisch’ geltenden Volksstämme, andererseits aber in dem sichtlichen Mangel einer einheitlichen Linie des geschichtlichen Werdegangs der Sprachen solcher Völker, soweit man einen solchen nach den Methoden der modernen Linguistik theoretisch festzustellen versucht hatte. Hier versagen solche Methoden, wenn auch nicht innerhalb des Einzelidioms, so doch im Hinblick auf einen historischen Sprachstamm. Während sich demgegenüber die rassisch auch nicht einheitlichen sogenannten Bantu schon durch den linguistisch einwandfrei und exakt festzustellenden historischen Bantu-Sprachstamm als eine geschichtliche Schicksalsgemeinschaft denkassimilierter afrikanischer Völker erweisen, so fehlt es auf dem Gebiete des ‘hamitisch’ genannten Volkstums durchaus an auch nur einigermassen systemfähigen allgemeinen Sprachkriterien. Während nämlich der moderne Afrikanist heute an der Hand von Meinhofs Vergleichsmethodik jederzeit imstande ist, schon bei erster Durchsicht eines in einem bislang noch unbekannt gewesenen afrikanischen Eingeborenenidiom abgefassten Textes eindeutig festzustellen, ob das Bantu ist oder nicht, und wenn ja, welche Stellung dieser Sprache im Rahmen des Gesammtsprachstammes zukommt, so war man bezüglich der Kriterien der Hamitensprachen bis vor Kurzem in der Hauptsache genötigt, ein mehr oder minder irrational formuliertes Allgemeinbekenntnis zum Glauben an eine sprachliche Einheit des Hamitischen abzulegen. Wer dann der gehörten Botschaft gegenüber seinen fehlenden Glauben betonen zu müssen meinte, den konnte man auch nicht widerlegen, selbst wenn er den ganzen Fragenkomplex rundweg negativ abzutun bereit war.

I. The Ngoni People. Before I made my first camp in an Ngoni village, many Europeans had said to me, ‘There are practically no Ngoni left to-day. They are all hopelessly mixed with other tribes. None of them keep to the Ngoni customs any longer. Their chiefs are no good.’ From the doorway of my hut I saw people coming all day long to the Paramount Chief, behaving towards him with profound respect, bringing him presents, working for him. His children formed a special group in the village, easily recognizable by their bearing and their manners. Old indunas came to instruct me, as they had instructed chiefs in their day, on the duties of a ruler, and the code of Ngoni laws. Old warriors in war dress came and danced by the cattle kraal and sang praise songs. Courts were held with scrupulous regard for order and justice. Other chiefs came visiting from distant parts with their retinues, and were received ceremonially. It soon became apparent that here was the centre of a political state, whose head was invested with prestige and authority over a wide area, and where behaviour to the Paramount and to every one else was strictly regulated by custom, and as strictly observed. These were Ngoni, and they and their fellow Ngoni in other areas for the next ten months introduced me to the Ngoni people. The European assertion, that they no longer existed as a people, they laughed at, and proceeded to demonstrate that the contrary was true.

When we speak of a co-operative society we usually mean a financial organization somewhat in the nature of a bank. In Europe, indeed, this is the prevailing type. The best definition of this type is ‘financial co-operative society’, since money is the binding factor or the object of such a society, either in the form of members' subscriptions, credit, or in any other form. This journal has published two articles on the problem of co-operative societies as it occurs in Africa. Both Strickland and Mumford lay particular stress upon the financial aspect of co-operation; the former suggests the regulating of the native financial position as the main task of African co-operative societies, and the latter advocates Peoples’ Banks and co-operative societies on plantations with common capital, somewhat after the manner of the Raiffeisen and Schultze-Delitzsch associations. These are but suggestions, and they can point to the complete success of this kind of co-operative society in Europe, the importance of which can also be proved from tropical lands such as India. But how do matters stand in Africa, with its peculiar conditions? Here financial co-operation has scarcely made its appearance, and it is important from the ethnological point of view to study the background which makes it difficult for financial co-operation to gain an entry. The anthropologist must ask first and foremost, whether the native knows any form of co-operative work of his own, and if so, whether this indigenous form may not be made use of to build up a system of co-operative societies which is both modern and congenial. That is the question which the practical colonial politician addresses to the anthropologist: What are the natural sources of native co-operation, and what conditions must we observe if we wish to introduce a European form of co-operation? It is obvious that if the anthropologist considers these questions, a sound principle for co-operative work among the natives can be established. Even if we ascertain that financial co-operative societies are fundamentally foreign to the native, that does not affect the necessity of introducing them to-day. We must, however, determine the difficulties which beset the introduction of a system of financial co-operation, and thus help to overcome them.

Depuis la publication de nos diverses études sur l'allume-feu des populations du Congo Belge, nous avons reçu de divers collaborateurs d'Afrique de nombreux documents nouveaux sur les mythes et légendes qui se rapportent à l'origine et la première fabrication du feu chez diverses peuplades de l'Afrique Centrale.

A Bird's eye view of the present Ibo linguistic situation is not in one sense an inspiriting prospect. A rich profusion of dialects makes intercommunication a problem both for the 3 1/4 million Ibo-speaking people themselves and for the Europeans who live among them. The European attempt—a gallant effort in the face of extreme difficulty—to produce a lingua franca known as Union Ibo will be regarded either as a mitigating factor or an added complication according to the onlooker's point of view. In any case it has become to some extent a bone of contention as has also the question of orthography. Two different scripts are at present in use in the country, adding thus to the difficulty of the Ibo who wants to read and write his own language and of the European who wishes to learn it. And the lot of the Europeans faced by a difficult tonal and dialect-riven language is made harder by the fact that few if any of them get adequate linguistic training before going to the country or enough time to work at the language after arriving in it.

It would be an impertinence for any one writing about the Kanuri not to acknowledge his great debt to the immense work of investigation undertaken by Sir H. Richmond Palmer. In his Sudanese Memoirs particularly, he has written much about their origin and history which no one interested in the Kanuri should fail to read. Much also was written about the condition of Bornu in the nineteenth century by the travellers Denham, Barth, and Nachtigal. All these men visited Kukawa, the new capital of the Shehus; Denham, with Oudney and Clapperton, in 1823, Barth in 1851, and Nachtigal in 1870, and all wrote detailed accounts of their travels and experiences which are of absorbing interest to-day. No attempt is made here to give even a brief summary of the history of the Kanuri, but before dealing with certain present-day customs it will be advantageous to refer to two events of primary importance, one at the beginning, the other at the end of the nineteenth century, in order to appreciate the present political and social condition of Bornu.