One of the basic concepts of modern political analysis is the dichotomy (or continuum) of left–right. It has been a fundamental element of the ideological apparatus of the modern world at least since the French Revolution.

There have been two kinds of intellectual debates concerning this concept throughout modern history. One revolves around the criteria that should be used to delineate the ideal-typical poles of the concepts, and the degree to which the concept has discrete points or is a continuum. A subordinate question has always been whether it is fruitful to make the concept tri-modal and include a ‘centre’. Obviously, this debate has both moral and intellectual dimensions, and it is doubtful whether it is either possible or desirable to separate them.

As their countries emerged from colonial status, indigenous private entrepreneurs in tropical Africa turned to their governments for what they regarded as indispensable assistance. African businessmen, hampered by strong expatriate competitors (in many cases dominating their sectors), by foreign-owned banks unwilling to provide them with necessary credits, by their own managerial weakness, and by other severe disabilities, concluded that the broad and generous patronage of the central government was essential to the realisation of their aspirations for greater wealth and economic power.

Somalia is one of the poorest countries of the world, with an estimated income per capita of about $50.1 Yet she is one of the largest recipients of foreign aid: during 1964–1969 she received an annual average of about $15 per head of her 3 million population.2 This rate of aid is more than three times the figure of $4.5 per capita, which represents the average annual aid to other developing countries during 1964–1967.3

In the summer of 1967, when Nigeria's first federal constitution had been virtually shattered by two bloody military coups, and when it looked very likely that the Eastern Region might try to secede from the Federation, a military decree was promulgated dissolving the four former Regions, and replacing them by a new structure of 12 States (see Map I). In the following pages the largest of these will be considered, namely the North-Eastern State, in order to assess the prospects of its survival as an entity and of its economic development in the years to come.

For most organisations, a tenth anniversary session is a time for dwelling on the significance of past achievements while resolutely insisting that the best is yet to come in terms of new initiatives. The United Nations Economic Commission for Africa (E.C.A.) proved to be no exception when it met in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, during late January and early February 1969. Yet, behind the formal façade of celebration, one sensed an anxious attempt to overstate the results of past efforts in order to enlist support for a dynamic future which seems highly improbable. Because E.C.A. as an institution faces a serious crisis of confidence, its secretariat and its supporters seemed to seize on the tenth anniversary celebrations almost as if this were the last chance to change radically the Commission's role and image in the eyes of both Africa and the world. Indeed, the 1969 Commission session marked the culmination of an attempt by Robert K. A. Gardiner – the Commission's able Executive Secretary – and his associates to reverse the downward trend of E.C.A.'s influence and prestige since those halcyon early days of 1958–9 when Africans had such great hopes for their Commission.

UNTIL recently the tendency has been to look at African population largely in terms of crude density. From this standpoint tropical Africa was often rated as ‘underpopulated’, and even the recent and prestigious Pearson Commission, although noting the overall effect of population growth on development, stated blandly: ‘In Africa and Latin America…settlement is so sparse that it is impossible to speak of overpopulation.’1 Yet two years before, by synthesising a number of land-use studies and by demonstrating that, in terms of available land suitable for agriculture and pastoralism, there was pressure on rural resources, a prominent geographer had attacked, and one would have thought, had laid to rest, this argument. I do not wish to reiterate his case.2 Instead, using his article as a base, I will attempt here to make very crude prognoses and predictions and then to look at their policy implications, both for the sector discussed by him and for other sectors of social and economic development.

On the good foundation built by the University College of Dar es Salaam, which was a constituent part of the University of East Africa, we are now embarking upon our independent existence as a University. This is therefore an occasion for rejoicing. It is also an occasion which calls for re-dedication and renewed endeavour by all those involved. For it is now our responsibility to shape this institution so that it gives the maximum service to the people of Tanzania and their socialist objectives.

One of the basic and most difficult problems of our century seems to be that of the so-called ‘ developing’ nations. Although the generally accepted distinction between growth and development is sometimes questioned, one thing is certain, that in most Asian, African, and South American countries there is a need for development. International organisations and the more ‘advanced’ countries are aware of this, and make continuous efforts towards speeding up the process of development.

It is now nearly five years since Buganda rebelled against the Government of Uganda, and the Kabaka, Sir Edward Mutesa, fled to Britain. Relatively little has been written about these events, perhaps because they happened so rapidly and were dealt with so determinedly that not much precise information is available. In rural Buganda, in such places as Bugerere where I was engaged in fieldwork, party political activity reached a crescendo in the months before the May 1966 crisis and was then abruptly extinguished. Ever since, things have been ostensibly very quiet – indeed the districts of the disbanded Kingdom have remained under a declared state of emergency. During the heyday of politics I was impressed by a clear distinction in the focus of party activity; in the commercial townships on the main road through Bugerere its intensity was immediately obvious, whereas in the farming villages which spread over the fertile, rolling land of the county it was scarcely in evidence. What was the reason for this discrimination? The answer, I was sure, had not a little to do with the unusual economic and demographic circumstances of Bugerere.

‘Europeans are living in a fool's paradise. To base one's entire security on one old man is folly. Hero worship is an advanced form of pathology’. This is the view of a white farmer who lives in the Trans Nzoia District in the northwestern corner of the former ‘White Highlands’ and who has made Kenya his home since: 945. His opinions are not typical of the several score Europeans whom I interviewed in: 968, but they are incisive and essentially accurate.

The two most striking features of the 13th annual meeting of the African Studies Association were what did and what did not happen. Unlike the 1969 meeting at Montreal there was no disruption of academic discussion or general meetings, and no threat of violence, racial or otherwise – see Africa Report, December 1969. What was evident at Boston was a thoughtful and constructive effort to find through discussion a common meeting ground.