Preferred Citation: Rothchild, Donald, and Robert L. Curry Jr. Scarcity, Choice and Public Policy in Middle Africa. Berkeley: University of California Press, c1978. http://ark.cdlib.org/ark:/13030/ft9p3009f9/
 | Scarcity, Choice, and Public Policy in Middle AfricaDonald Rothchild |
Preferred Citation: Rothchild, Donald, and Robert L. Curry Jr. Scarcity, Choice and Public Policy in Middle Africa. Berkeley: University of California Press, c1978. http://ark.cdlib.org/ark:/13030/ft9p3009f9/
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Although frequent appeals are heard for increased interdisciplinary study and research, there is, at present, precious little material of this sort available to the serious analyst or policy maker. This volume attempts to compensate in part for this glaring lack. By uniting the disciplines of political science and economics, it seeks to probe the policy alternatives availing to African decision-makers under the difficult circumstances now prevailing. We hope that this effort will stimulate further policy-relevant research on Third World issues.
In a broad-ranging work of this type, our indebtedness to colleagues, foundations, librarians, university and research institutions, and civil servants in African and non-African countries goes far beyond anything that we can properly acknowledge. We apologize at the outset to all those whose contributions are not given specific recognition here. Nevertheless, for purposes of brevity, we shall limit ourselves to mentioning only those who have played a direct and substantial role in the shaping of this work. Since we have not always accepted their advice, they can in no way be held accountable for the final result.
In particular, we are deeply indebted to Larry Wade, Alexander Groth, David Laitin, Robert Lieber, Glen Gambles,
Geoffrey Wandesforde-Smith, Cynthia Brantley, Victor Olorunsola, Ralph Braibanti, Josephine Milburn, Claude Welch, and Edward Olson for careful and insightful comments on various chapters. Marlyn Madison, Karen Fowler, and Lako Tongun provided helpful research assistance, Mimi Dixon and Patricia Arthur gave secretarial assistance most cheerfully, and Linda Eernisse displayed commendable patience when typing (and retyping) the work in its entirety. A part of Chapter 1 was presented as an Open Lecture at the University of Ghana, Legon and was published by the Ghana Universities Press, and a part of Chapter 4 was published in the Journal of Modern African Studies (vol. 12, no. 2, June 1974). We wish to thank the Registrar of the University of Ghana, Legon and the Journal editor and Cambridge University Press for permission to reuse these materials. The appendix to Chapter 1 is based on pages 69 through 73 of A Logic of Public Policy by L. L. Wade and R. L. Curry, Jr., published by the Duxbury Press. We wish to thank Duxbury for permission to use this section. Financial costs were covered by faculty research grants at the University of California, Davis.
But over and above all of these forms of assistance is the steady and unwavering support we have received from our wives, Edith W. Rothchild and Dana Curry. We are taking the opportunity of dedicating our book to them in recognition of this fact.
DONALD ROTHCHILD
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, DAVIS
AND UNIVERSITY OF GHANA, LEGON
ROBERT L. CURRY, JR.
CALIFORNIA STATE UNIVERSITY,
SACRAMENTO
PART I—
INTRODUCTION
Chapter 1—
Political Economy and Policy Choice in the Third World
Social scientists frequently appear to find themselves in a dilemma: how to remain true to the demands of their professional disciplines and how, at the same time, to identify with the needs and aspirations of the governments and peoples of Africa. As great as this conflict seems on the surface, the apparent gap between these two commitments could be reduced through altered theoretical framework. By focusing on policy analysis, both disciplinary and areal orientations can be juxtaposed, helping social scientists who are concentrating on the Third World to raise "the right questions."[1] Thomas R. Dye's remark that "policy analysis might be labeled the 'thinking man's response' to demands that social science become more 'relevant' to the problems of our society" is as applicable to non-Western as to Western countries.[2]
[1] Margaret L. Bates, review of Gwendolen M. Carter (ed.), National Unity and Regionalism in Eight African States, in American Political Science Review 61, no. 3 (September 1967): 824. Also see Henry L. Bretton, "Political Science Field Research in Africa," Comparative Politics 2, no. 3 (April 1970): 442.
[2] Thomas R. Dye, Understanding Public Policy (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1971),, p. 6.
Clearly, one way in which social scientists could make a substantial contribution to African development is by helping decision-makers to develop policy objectives and to implement programs to attain them. Rather than assuming a neutral and value-free stance, these analysts might adopt, or at least be sensitive to, the values that could facilitate the probing of complicated issues and the proposing of alternative courses of action to persons in positions of power and responsibility. "What is needed," assert Warren F. Ilchman and Norman T. Uphoff, "are some ways of assessing the comparative efficiency of policy alternatives and some means of formulating priorities."[3] We agree, and we view a political economy framework as an appropriate analytical tool to deal with the dynamics of social change that require the formulation and ranking of priorities and the developing and implementing of policy alternatives. In an examination of the decisional choices by public authorities in achieving political, social, and economic goals, political economy offers a useful means of inquiring into the interaction between social, political, and economic organization and process. Such an emphasis on decisional choices orients a political economy approach more toward problem-solving than toward management or maintenance.[4]
Policy analysis combines two critical disciplines that are central to an understanding of the process of transformation
[3] Warren F. Ilchman and Norman T. Uphoff, The Political Economy of Change (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1969), p. 11. Of course, as Robert A. Packenham points out such a policy-relevant approach tends to skirt around normative questions. "Political Development Research," in Michael Haas and Henry S. Kariel (eds.), Approaches to the Study of Political Science (Scranton: Chandler Publishing Co., 1970), pp. 179, 186–87. For the normative issues from a neo Marxist point of view, see the essays in Richard Harris, The Political Economy of Africa (New York: Wiley, 1975).
[4] See the excellent review by Robert T. Golembiewski, " 'Maintenance' and 'Task' as Central Challenges in Public Administration," Public Administration Review 34, no. 2 (March/April 1974): 168–69. Also see Gary L. Wamsley and Mayer N. Zald, The Political Economy of Public Organizations (Toronto: D. C. Heath, 1973), pp. 16–22. A brief but useful discussion of the scope of political economy is in Joel Joalladebu, "Restrained or Enlarged Scope for Political-Economy?" Journal of Economic Issues 9, no. 1 (March 1975).
occurring throughout Africa today—political science and economics. Their interdependence is shown by the priorities set by decision-makers as well as by the problems of application they have encountered. Thus, even while placing considerable emphasis on productive efficiency, planners find themselves unable to isolate the economic factors they seek to influence from political rules and doctrines or social beliefs and habits.[5] Insensitivity to the norms, values, and practices of pastoral people may actually hamper the production of meat or undermine the establishment of viable ranching schemes; similarly, inattention to locally held social stratification patterns may make the diffusion of technological innovation extremely difficult.[6] Economic values, then, can only be effectively considered in a broader context, one which places heavy stress on both the political variable and the social-psychological environment.
In emphasizing the elements of choice in relation to political and economic resources, the "new" political economy serves as a theoretical model for two main groups: the students of developmental processes seeking analytical insights into the efficiency of resource mobilization and allocation in the particular time-place circumstances prevailing in various states, and the decision-maker searching for means to rank priorities, develop alternative policy designs, and choose and implement a specific policy program. Political economy, therefore, performs both analytic and prescriptive functions.[7] It makes possible a fuller insight into the vital interplay between political and social process and organization, and economic practices.
[5] Economic planning "may be described as the conscious effort of a central organization to influence, direct, and, in some cases, even control changes in the principal economic variables . . . consumption, investment, saving" (and production). See Michael P. Todaro, Planning Development (Nairobi: Oxford University Press, 1971), p. 1.
[6] Donald Rothchild, "Realist Perspectives on African Modernization," Africa Today 20, no. 4 (Fall 1973): 41. Also see Harold D. Lasswell, "The Policy Sciences of Development," World Politics 17, no. 2 (January 1965): 288.
[7] Yehezkel Dror, "Some Diverse Approaches to Policy Analysis: A Partial Reply to Thomas Dye," Policy Studies Journal 1, no. 4 (Summer 1973): 258.
Consequently, political economy combines pure and applied social science research, and thus acquires a dual utility appealing to scholars and statesmen alike.
The social scientist or decision-maker utilizing the political economy approach must be wary of a number of possible pitfalls. Later we shall specifically examine the differences in the policy processes between developed and developing societies. Suffice it for now to point out some general problems in the way of easy application of this Western-based theoretical instrument to non-Western circumstances.
First, those utilizing a political economy framework must make a conscious effort to accept the existence and validity of different political cultures in which formal and informal decision rules are shaped. In this sense, it is unwise for them to minimize the variance in meanings which diverse societies give to such widely used terms as democracy, stability, freedom, equality, and efficiency. Different definitions as well as different norms, values, and practices in Third World societies will likely have a distinct impact on the decisional process (for example, the extent to which "command" as against "bargaining" procedures prevail). Men are obviously not malleable productive units but human beings with pronounced feelings, interests, habits, and values. As the latter impinge on policy making, planners may become circumscribed in their capacity to implement transformation: for example, the human costs of transformed productive processes might be too great. It is therefore essential that those adopting a political economy approach view the process of change as much as possible from within a particular situation. By emphasizing the ability of leaders to maximize the goals they set for themselves, the policy analyst can go far in avoiding preconceived preferences that may hinder a rigorous and systematic assessment of policy options under the conditions operating in a particular developing society.
Second, the policy analyst will enhance the effectiveness of his recommendations by avoiding deterministic thinking. All too often Western observers conceptualize change as leading in a sequential manner to a parliamentary type of democracy, while his Eastern counterpart (as distinct from the neo-Marxist theorist) superimposes a rigid form of class analysis and an inevitable
proletarian triumph on the African scene.[8] But over and above these alien preconceptions is another, and possibly more insidious, type of determinism: namely, a self-defeating pessimism. The assumption (whether grounded on conspiracy doctrines or not) that existing international power relations foredoom an indefinite continuance of African underdevelopment does not automatically give rise to "realism." A case in point is the prediction of one scholar that few of the African countries "are capable of maintaining their current position in the international rank order; to score net gains seems to be well-nigh impossible for many."[9] For African decision-makers to accept such a gloomy prognosis would be to give up the struggle for transformation before it starts. Why bother to restructure one's opportunities if the chances of altering the outcome are so restricted from the outset? By contrast, policy analysts probe given environments to find whatever opportunities, large or small, may be present. They experiment with a wide array of problem-solving initiatives, seeking thereby to enlarge choice through a more effective use of available resources. In this sense, "realism" is commitment to the potential instead of to the actual. Such futuristic orientations leave eventual outcomes undetermined and give policy formers an enhanced role in shaping their countries' relationship to their environments.
Third, the policy analyst must be cautious about reaching conclusions on alternative courses of action that rest on a narrow time perspective. Yehezkel Dror's comments on public policy-making in developing countries are pertinent: "Comparison with the past," contends Dror, "is inapplicable: the preindependence period is too different in most variables, and the independence period too short."[10] He notes, for example, that
[8] On the economic determinism in classical Marxism (as distinct from neo-Marxism), see James M. Buchanan and Gordon Tullock, The Calculus of Consent (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1971), p. 26. A statement of the more pragmatic neo-Marxist position appears in E. A. Brett, Colonialism and Underdevelopment in East Africa (New York: Nok Publishers, 1973), pp. 13–14.
[9] Henry L. Bretton, Power and Politics in Africa (Chicago: Aldine Publishing, Co., 1973), p. 19. See also Johan Galtung, "A Structural Theory of Imperialism," Journal of Peace Research 8, no. 2 (1971): 88–91.
[10] Yehezkel Dror, Public Policymaking Reexamined (San Francisco: Chandler Publishing Co., 1968), p. 116.
if the change between past and present net output is insufficient to indicate a future trend, conclusions drawing upon short-term comparisions may be misleading, even fallacious.[11] Dror's point is well taken. In light of the poverty and inequalities inherited from the past, it would be a mistake to evaluate Third World performances in terms of brief postcolonial time spans. Such assessments could lead either to excessive optimism when compared with developmental experience in colonial times or to excessive pessimism when compared with future aspirations. A broader time perspective seems essential in order to minimize the gap between the desirable and the realizable.
Fourth, the policy analyst focusing on Third World countries cannot usefully adopt a static theoretical orientation. The process of transformation involves dissatisfaction with the status quo as well as determination and capacity to alter the inherited order in a significant manner. Essential to this effort at revising social practices is a sense of urgency over the need for expanded options, not a limitation of vision to existing state functions and structures.[12] In this sense, structural-functional analysis seems open to the criticism of not going far enough. Although it does enlarge our field for comparison by delineating which functions have corresponding structures in all societies, it affords us little insight into the dynamics of social change affecting all Third World countries (the broadening of the range and extent of organizational goals, international bargaining, exploitation and discrimination, pan-Africanism, regional integration, and so forth). Consequently, there would seem to be grounds for Richard Sklar's complaint that "in today's Africa, an undue emphasis on the existing state system is likely to promote a conservative outlook that cannot easily accom-
[11] Ibid., p. 60.
[12] Gabriel A. Almond, "Introduction: A Functional Approach to Comparative Politics," in Gabriel A. Almond and James S. Coleman (eds.), The Politics of the Developing Areas (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1960), p. 5. Subsequently Almond himself conceded that "the 'new political science' critiques of system functionalism as ideologically conservative make a useful point." "Approaches to Developmental Causation," in Gabriel A. Almond, Scott C. Flanagan, and Robert J. Mundt (eds.), Crisis, Choice and Change (Boston: Little, Brown, 1973), p. 7.
modate the radical values of liberation, economic freedom, and continental unity."'[13]
And fifth, policy analysts who inadvertently fail to emphasize, or at least recognize, concerns for human betterment court futility and neglect. The realistic problem-solver must aim toward worthwhile objectives if his recommendations are to have a useful thrust—the realism of idealism. To do otherwise, and merely catalog political and economic resources for efficient utilization, would be to engage in a mechanical exercise largely devoid of constructive purpose. Such efforts could, moreover, be used by life-negating decision-makers for goals that seem unworthy of systematic research. In brief, then, the policy sciences must never lose sight of such challenges as inequality, exploitation, and arbitrariness.[14] As Zambia's President Kaunda puts the matter so well: "We cannot succeed in any field, whether it be political, industrial or religious, if we fail to recognize that man is of primary importance."[15] It would be truly myopic to overlook the fact that the end goal for the policy sciences is man's self-fulfillment.
The Utility of a Comparative Policy Approach
Formulated most simply, policy analysis seeks to determine what rational courses of action are open to decision-makers in light of availing societal demands and constraints. "It decides major guidelines for action directed at the future, mainly by governmental organs. These guidelines (policies) formally aim at achieving what is in the public interest
[13] Richard Sklar, "Political Science and National Integration—A Radical Approach," Journal of Modern African Studies 5, no. 1 (May 1967): 4. See also Maure L. Goldschmidt, "Democratic Theory and Contemporary Political Science," Western Political Quarterly 19, no. 3 (September 1966): 11.
[14] Jonathan S. Barker, "Political Science and the Real World," Taamuli 1, no. 2 (March 1971): 6–7.
[15] Colin Legum (ed.), Zambia: Independence and Beyond: The Speeches of Kenneth Kaunda (London: Thomas Nelson and Sons, 1966), p. 116. (Italics in text.)
by the best possible means."[16] Through inquiry into real-world decision processes and outcomes, policy analysis tends to be realistic and pragmatic. It de-emphasizes the great "isms" (e.g., socialism versus capitalism) and stresses instead the fine gradations of choice that may be present in various systems.[17] What is assumed to be common to all systems is scarcity of resources and a desire on the part of individuals to improve their, or their group's, share of the output generated by using the resources. Government is left with a threefold task: (1) extracting resource contributions (taxes, national service, military duty, etc.); (2) setting priorities on the allocation of public resources among various objectives in response to demands by as well as among distinct interest groups and social classes; and (3) establishing regulations on enterprise and activities.[18] In principle, "rational" governmental policies are based on cost-benefit considerations. Where a community secures more direct and indirect advantages (over disadvantages) from pursuing a given line of activity, then the policy can be considered useful and possibly be put into effect. Whether it actually is undertaken depends on whether other competing activities are expected to produce even greater net advantages.[19] In making such calculations, the policy-maker must take into account various non economic factors involving social values, norms, habits, and practices as well as the more traditional economic objectives associated with productionist ends. Political economy thus seeks to combine the subjective of politics and society with the objective goals of economic growth.[20] This interdisciplinary
[16] Dror, Public Policymaking Reexamined, p. 12.
[17] Robert A. Dahl and Charles E. Lindblom, Politics, Economics, and Welfare (New York: Harper and Row, 1953), pp. 3–16.
[18] Larry L. Wade, The Elements of Public Policy (Columbus: Charles E. Merrill, 1972), pp. 10–15; and Larry L. Wade and Robert L. Curry Jr., A Logic of Public Policy (Belmont, California: Wadsworth, 1970), chaps. 1–3.
[19] We shall discuss in greater length the matter of benefit-cost situations in later chapters. For a discussion of the role of analysis in selecting from among alternatives (such as various projects that compete for community resources), see UNIDO, Guidelines for Project Evaluation (New York: United Nations, 1972), chaps. 1–3.
[20] James S. Coleman, "The Resurrection of Political Economy," in Norman T. Uphoff and Warren F. Ilchman (eds.), The Political Economyof Development (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1972), pp. 32–34: and John W. Harbeson, "Modernization Theory and Modernization Policy: Toward the Creation of a Dialogue," a paper presented to the Third Session of the International Congress of Africanists, Addis Ababa, 9–19 December 1973, p. 19.
perspective enables the policy analyst to take a broad view of the process of change in transitional societies. The analyst employing a political economy approach is in a position to cope more effectively with such complicated and multidimensional issues as the preconditions for development, political exchange, external costs, transfers of resources, and the exogenous factor in development. The future is seen in terms of a process involving the expansion of resource availability and not merely the allocation of existing resources. Such a concern for growth and experimentation cannot afford the restrictions of static or deterministic assumptions about the political economy of development.
We feel that it is appropriate and useful to offer the reader a rational-choice model included as the appendix to this chapter. The model is heuristic, or nonempirical, in nature and therefore is limited to a set of logical propositions about the rational choice of public policies. Since this model contains the essence of many of the propositions on which the remainder of our volume is based, an understanding of it becomes essential to an appreciation of both our methodological approach and the substantive issues to which our main attention is directed.
If political economy can be useful to scholars and statesmen alike in determining the choices open to decision-makers, what scope exists for comparative analysis? To be sure, a situational approach emphasizes the capacity of the state or region to set priorities on the utilization of scarce resources. At the same time, an analyst need not look inward to the community affected by the decisional process. As Ilchman and Uphoff contend: "Policies of different regimes can be compared over time and among countries on the basis of the comparative efficiency of different combinations of resources."[21] A comparative outlook can, to the extent that it enlarges the awareness of meaningful alternatives on the part of policy-makers, be
[21] Ilchman and Uphoff, Political Economy of Change, p. 32.
expected to complement the decisional process at the state or regional levels.
Without attempting to overplay the comparative dimension, it is important to note several ways in which it is useful in policy choice. First, a cross-national approach offers decision-makers insights into comparable priority-ranking and policy-implementing experiences elsewhere. Policy-makers need not repeat the errors of other localities or countries; instead, the experiences of one political system can act as an example or a warning for another. Despite distinguishing political cultures and environmental circumstances, a number of similar questions confront all states. In matters of recruitment, extractions, budgeting and allocations, regulations, and relations with foreign countries and enterprises, they have much to learn from each other. Moreover, common experiences at the regional level (for example, the Lake Tahoe basin of the western United States and the Lake Victoria area of East Africa) may offer extensive scope for transnational policy analysis. To the extent that comparative policy analysis offers new insights on such issues, it goes far in fulfilling its basic problem-solving mandate.
Second, institutions can be compared in terms of their ability to promote desired policies and outcomes. Such institutions, described as "stable, valued, recurring patterns of behavior,"[22] can either make demands on the political system or convert these demands for resources and opportunities; in the latter case, governmental agencies such as the executive and legislative branches, the bureaucracy, and local administrations organize activities, determine priorities, and allocate costs and benefits.[23] By linking structures to the policy process, the political economy approach revives a flagging concern on the part of social scientists with political structures. The renewed focus on institutions reveals much about the way policies are formulated and implemented. "Institutions," says Thomas R. Dye, "may be so structured as to facilitate certain policy outcomes and to obstruct other policy outcomes. They may
[22] Samuel P. Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968), p. 12.
[23] Larry L. Wade and Robert L. Curry, Jr., A Logic of Public Policy, pp. 120–27.
give advantage to certain interests in society and withhold advantage from other interests. Certain individuals and groups may enjoy greater access to government power under one set of structural characteristics than under another set."[24] Clearly, there is much room for comparative analysis here. Such structurally based foci as federalism, legislative-executive relations, party organization, interest group strategies, and bureaucratic-military encounters can be examined cross-nationally for their impact on policy formulation and implementation. This approach is likely to open up some little used, but potentially profitable, vistas into the economizing process.
Third, the outputs of different political systems may be a suitable field for comparative examination. Such outputs, according to David Easton, consist of "authoritative allocations of values or binding decisions and the actions implementing and related to them."[25] Regime initiatives with respect to the environment, expressed in the form of rules, regulations, decisions, or actions, embody public policies on such issues as the mobilization and allocation of resources, tax burdens, redistribution of community income, and division of labor. Outputs such as these represent the "operational profile" of the political system [26] and, notwithstanding certain limitations arising from time-place circumstances discussed below, can be usefully compared for their impact on the environment.[27] For example, a cross-national examination of the redistribution of resources from the relatively advantaged to the relatively disadvantaged parts of a polity could suggest much about the decisional efficiency of such actions. It is possible that policy-makers
[24] Dye, Understanding Public Policy (n. 2 above), p. 33.
[25] David Easton, A Framework for Political Analysis (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1965), p. 126. Also see his article, "An Approach to the Analysis of Political Systems," World Politics 9, no. 3 (April 1957): 383–400.
[26] Alexander J. Groth, Comparative Politics: A Distributive Approach (New York: Macmillan, 1971), p. 9.
[27] "The 'environment' is regarded as the totality of the subsystems, which, with the polity (itself now being regarded as a 'subsystem') makes up the social system." B. J. Dudley, Instability and Political Order: Politics and Crisis in Nigeria (Ibadan: Ibadan University Press, 1973), p. 11.
would be in a better position to put more radical reallocative or redistributive measures into effect if they had access to the kinds of information presented by comparative data analysis.
Fourth, comparisions of outcomes, as distinct from outputs, can be highly suggestive.[28] Here the policy analyst is concentrating on the consequences of actions rather than the decisions themselves. With a provision in the central budget for a reallocation of resources from the advantaged to the disadvantaged sections of the country, what are the results (anticipated or unanticipated) of these measures? Some findings on the outcomes of regimes in developing countries have already come to light. For example, although the Zambian government remained faithful to its doctrine on corrective equity among the provinces of the country, it actually spent more during the course of the first-plan period in the two major line-of-rail regions, Copperbelt and Central Provinces, than in the remaining six provinces combined; thus 287.8 million Zambian kwacha was allocated to the two more industrial provinces and ZK440.4 million in fact disbursed (53 percent more than planned), while ZK260.9 million was allotted to the other six provinces and 207.4 million actually expended (21 percent less than planned).[29] Government expenditure patterns thus pointed to a noticeable gap between promise and performance with respect to redistributional objectives. Moreover, Ira Sharkansky shows that the lower-income population of the least developed countries and of the least developed of the (United States) states were both taxed disproportionately; although taxes based on retail sales and excises were easiest to collect, they were regressive in their effects, as they fell most heavily upon the poor. Such a focus on outcomes, which minimizes the importance of
[28] On the distinction between outputs and outcomes, see Austin Ranney, "The Study of Policy Content: A Framework for Choice," in Austin Ranney (ed.), Political Science and Public Policy (Chicago: Markham, 1968), pp. 8–9; and Ira Sharkansky, "Governmental Expenditures and Public Services in the American States," American Political Science Review 61, no. 4 (December 1967): 1074–75.
[29] Donald Rothchild, "Rural-Urban Inequities and Resource Allocation in Zambia," Journal of Commonwealth Political Studies 10, no. 3 (November 1972): 238–39. Also see his "Ethnic Inequalities in Kenya," Journal of Modern African Studies 7, no. 4 (December 1969): 689–711.
doctrine in favor of actual performance criteria, is important for its ability to distinguish achievement from aspiration.[30]
And finally, a comparative approach adds perspective to an anlysis of the policy process in a particular political system. Richard Rose's comments on the manner in which cross national research enhances the meaningfulness of conclusions is insightful here. Rose states:
The significance of social and economic conditions for public policy can be tested comparatively by positive and null hypotheses. Contrasting countries with very large and very low gross national products per capita are likely to produce predictable and positive results. These findings can be modified in important ways, however, if one studies the aggregate gross national product of a country in relation to government choice about collective goods. It is often overlooked that the total gross national product of the Republic of China, India or France is far greater than that of Norway or the Netherlands; the relationship is reversed only when one analyzes wealth on a per capita basis.[31]
Policy Constraints:
Ideas, Information, and Structure
In principle, then, policy analysis could be of great use to students and statesmen concentrating on Third World problems. Yet in practice this has not generally been the case. The limited application may be due to the existing literature's focus on experiences in developed capitalistic countries (particularly the United States). To dwell on such culturally oriented objectives as private enterprise or parliamentary democracy, as do many
[30] Ira Sharkansky, "Structural Correlates of Least Developed Economies: Parallels in Government Forms, Politics and Public Policies among the Least Developed Countries and the Least Developed (U.S.) States," a paper presented to the International Political Science Association, Montreal, 19–25 August, 1973, pp. 6–8. For a study of the impact of ideology upon public spending patterns, with considerable relevance for policy outcomes in developing countries, see Wade, Elements of Public Policy, pp. 32–36; and Alexander Groth and Larry Wade, "International Educational Comparisons," in Dusan Sidjanski (ed.), Political Decision making Processes (Amsterdam: Elsevier Press, 1973), pp. 122–48.
[31] Richard Rose, "Comparing Public Policy: An Overview," European Journal of Political Research 1, no. 1 (April 1973): 71.
Western writers, is to limit the relevance of research conclusions as far as many African or Asian observers are concerned. Similarly, Western caution and pragmatism seems out of touch with the radical trends that inevitably mark Third World conditions. Manfred Halpern contends that a modernizing state involves "a persistent capacity for coping with a permanent revolution."[32] Unless the public policy literature can become attuned to this ongoing transformation, it risks the stigma of irrelevancy in Third World countries (and First and Second World lands as well).
The limited applicability of current policy science analyses to the developing countries becomes evident from an examination of the methods and tools of research at the disposal of the policy analyst. Not only are African-oriented analysts frequently bound by assumptions implicitly underlying much current policy research, but they are also constrained by inadequate and often unreliable data as well as an inability to relate existing data to comparable situations. In many African lands, statistics are notoriously undependable;[33] where such information is available, it is not always clear what measurements are to be applied to the data if meaningful conclusions are to be reached. For example, key indices such as the gross domestic product and the gross national product are subject to different interpretations in essentially modern and traditional economic contexts; therefore, any effort to draw comparisons between them is likely to be misleading, even erroneous.[34]
These general constraints upon utilizing the burgeoning literature on policy in Third World circumstances are aug-
[32] Manfred Halpern, "Toward Further Modernization of the Study of New Nations," World Politics 17, no. 1 (October 1964): 177. See also the critique by Donal Cruise O'Brien, "Modernization, Order and the Erosion of a Democratic Ideal," Journal of Development Studies 8, no. 4 (July 1972): 351–78.
[33] On the accuracy and completeness of censuses in developing countries, see I. I. Ekanem, The 1963 Nigerian Census: A Critical Appraisal (Benin: Ethiope Publishing Corp., 1972), p. 28.
[34] The gross national product differs from the gross domestic product in that it takes indirect taxes and subsidies as well as factor payments to and from other states into account. See the difference between the two illustrated in Republic of Kenya, Economic Surveys 1973 (Nairobi: Central Bureau of Statistics, 1973), pp. 8–11.
mented by the difficulty of having recourse to the input-output-feedback model so basic to this approach. On the input side, the sources of demands on the regime are somewhat distinct between the more developed and the less developed countries. Whereas interest group and political party pressures for public and private goods are extensive in pluralistic Western societies, such sectors tend to be less organized and effective in the African states.[35] Demands for change are readily apparent, to be sure, but these are as likely to emanate from bureaucratic or governmental agencies, locally based expatriate groups, multinational corporate interests, foreign donor agencies, or external powers as from the more conventional political and economic sources of the West. Moreover, interest groups frequently exhibit a greater influence over administrators than over policy makers, and this has a larger impact on the implementation than the formulation of public policy.[36]
With respect to the processing of demands, further differences emerge between the situations of the more developed and the less developed states. In many of the Third World countries, governmental structures which determine priorities on public issues are notable for their brittleness and ineffectiveness, rather than for the overbearing tendencies so often attributed to them. The reasons are not hard to find. Governmental organs lack the capacity in many instances to cope effectively with the range and intensity of demands confronting them. "The most general trend that developed in the [political] sphere in these societies," states S.N. Eisenstadt, "was marked discrepancy between the demands of different groups—parties, cliques, bureaucracy, army, regional groups—and the responses and ability of the central rulers to deal with these demands."[37]
[35] Thomas B. Smith, "The Study of Policymaking in The Developing Nations," Policy Studies Journal 1, no. 4 (Summer 1973): 245. See also Ferrel Heady, Public Administration: A Comparative Perspective (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1966), p. 65.
[36] In India, where interest group claims tend to exert greater influence, it is apparent to, observers that these sectors are more effective in bringing pressure to bear on administrators than on policymakers. See Myron Weiner, The Politics of Scarcity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962), p. 217.
[37] S. N. Eisenstadt, "Breakdowns of Modernization," Economic Development and Cultural Change 12, no. 4 (July 1964): 350. Also see his"Bureaucracy and Political Development," in Joseph LaPalombara (ed.), Bureaucracy and Political Development (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1963), pp. 96–106.
Failure to manage these demands leads directly to instability, lack of continuity, and what Eisenstadt depicts as "breakdowns" of modernization.
The fragility of a number of structures under Third World conditions has already been indicated. Suffice it here to note the weakness of a single key institution involved in the formulation of public policy: the policy-planning structures variously associated with the national organs of the new African states. Despite the wide acceptance of a need for centralized economic action, such institutions are often unable to integrate and manage demands. Commenting on the lack of central institutional authority in developing countries for enforcing compliance with development plans, one author observes that policymakers in these states will more likely than not "constitute merely another political group competing for attention and influence in the policymaking process."[38]
The ineffectiveness of these planning agencies to design and implement comprehensive programs for development, especially by comparison with such developed polities as the Soviet Union, stems largely from their difficulties over staff recruitment, reliable information, and relations with administrators and politicians. These organizations must compete with the ministries, parastatal bodies, and multinational corporations for trained persons, and given the prevailing salary structure, they often find themselves in a poor position to attract the most able personnel. Policy-making organizations are also constrained by
[38] Robert H. Jackson, "Planning, Politics and Administration," in Goran Hyden, Robert Jackson, and John Okumu (eds.), Development Administration: The Kenyan Experience (Nairobi: Oxford University Press, 1970), p. 175. See also Aaron Wildavsky, "If Planning Is Everything, Maybe It's Nothing," Policy Sciences 4, no. 2 (June 1973): 146. For discussions of basic planning elements, see W. Arthur Lewis, Development Planning: The Essentials of Economic Policy (New York and Paris: OECD, 1966), and Albert Waterston, Development Planning: Lessons of Experience (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins, 1967). For a focus on Africa, see UNESCO, Social Implications of Industrialization in Africa South of the Sahara (New York: United Nations, 1964).
the information at their disposal. Such information as is available to these planners, derived largely from spokesmen for interest group, subregional, partisan, and bureaucratic sources, is often sketchy and unreliable. Consequently, developmental programs based on this insufficient or misleading knowledge can be the cause of frustration and, even worse, of poor choices on developmental issues. Moreover, the relations between policymakers and bureaucrats or politicians are not necessarily harmonious. The coordination function expected of central-planning instrumentalities may prove difficult to effect in real-world conditions. Professional administrators have not always responded positively in practice to the leads of policy-planning units; on the other hand, bureaucrats and political officials have been known to resist attempts by these agencies to expand their control.[39] The upshot is considerable institutional incapacity on the part of policy-planning organizations at just the point where their ability to offer coordinated direction to the economy seems most essential.
In addition to the structural difficulties besetting policymaking organizations in developing lands are the constraints upon choice which circumscribe their capacity for effective action. Certainly a wide array of factors impinge on that maneuverability: the ability to mobilize sufficient human and material resources, to secure reliable information, to manage interest group demands, to cope with the "exogenous variable," and so forth. Something akin to a paradox of choice is apparent. Radical inclinations and solutions seemingly abound; in practice, however, administrators, and perhaps to a lesser extent policy-makers, frequently opt for incremental adjustments. Rather than starting anew to set values and objectives when dealing with social problems (the root method), those disposed toward incrementalism tend "continually [to build] out from the current situation, step-by-step and by small degrees" (the
[39] Dror, Public Policymaking Reexamined (n. 10 above), p. 113; and Jackson, "Planning, Politics and Administration," p. 188. Also see James S. Coleman, "The Development Syndrome: Differentiation-Equality-Capacity," in Leonard Binder et al., Crises and Sequences in Political Development (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1971), p. 99.
branch method).[40] " As Colin Leys points out, many of those involved in policy analysis complain over spending only 10 percent of their time on comprehensive planning, the remaining 90 percent being left to the more mundane tasks of management and control.[41]
How can one explain this seeming paradox of choice? No doubt the nature of the struggle against colonialism and neo-colonialism, the dimension of the problems of poverty, illiteracy, and disease, the bitterness over lingering evidences of racism and exploitation, the glaring inequalities between subregions, races, and ethnic peoples, and the general disillusionment over the rate of change all help to account for the gap between aspiration and reality. Policy-makers and administrators, intent on achieving a high level of performance as rapidly as possible, often pursue short-term options; this course of action may involve, for example, an accommodation with the international capitalistic system, not out of any preference for such connections but because of concern over the costs of severing such relationships.[42] It is largely the hostility of the inherited world environment that leaves policy analysts in the less developed countries (LDCs) with limited room for movement. To be sure, they can make some basic value decisions over international alignments, trading partners, and nationalization programs, but having once established these fundamental preferences, the environment impinges and thereby curtails subsequent choices on public policies.
To a degree at least, such a combination of environmental strain and inability to cope effectively is in contrast with the experience of the rich industrialized polities of the West. Not
[40] Charles E. Lindblom, "The Science of 'Muddling Through,' " in Dennis L. Thompson (ed.), Politics, Policy and Natural Resources (New York: Free Press, 1972), p. 102. Also see his book, The Intelligence of Democracy (New York: Free Press, 1965), p. 178.
[41] Colin Leys, "The Analysis of Planning," in Colin Leys (ed.), Politics and Change in Developing Countries (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969), p. 253.
[42] These alternatives are explored more fully in Donald Rothchild's, Racial Bargaining in Independent Kenya: A Study of Minorities and Decolonization (London: Oxford University Press, for the Institute of Race Relations, 1973), chap. 13.
only are Western decision-makers induced by their values and assumptions to adopt reformist policy-making styles, but the very privileged position of their countries in the world community makes such an approach marginally acceptable—so long, that is, as prevailing conditions persist. In developing lands, however, incrementalism reduces the determination to search out and apply alternative courses of economic organization and runs counter to the prescriptions of African socialism as an "ideology of development."[43] To the extent that modern policy analysis is based on such values and assumptions, it is likely to secure only minimal acceptance from those who reject "muddling through" and insist, for sound reasons, upon a bolder experimentation associated with comprehensive planning.
As for the implementation and effect of policy (outputs and outcomes), the limited usefulness of the current public-policy literature is readily apparent.[44] Here liberal Western social science, by its heavy stress on input agencies, seems somewhat incidental to African needs and priorities. Unlike the Marxists, who remain ever alert to the close connection between politics and economics, Western social scientists have all too often failed to pay sufficient heed to the difficulties in the way of accomplishing ends and to the consequences of policy application. The result is an overriding concern with process rather than problem-solving—a ranking of functions and goals sharply at variance with those held by leaders in the African states.[45]
The significant impact of interest group influence on policy application in the LDCs has already been noted. Such influence arises from interest group access to administrative
[43] On the distinction between socialism as an "ethic of distribution" and as an "ideology of development," see Ali A. Mazrui, Towards a Pax Africana: A Study of Ideology and Ambition (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1967), p. 98.
[44] Exceptions here are Jeffrey L. Pressman and Aaron Wildavsky, Implementation (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1973), pp. 143–46; and Michael Chege, "Systems Management and The Plan Implementation Process in Kenya," African Review 3, no. 4 (1973): 595–609.
[45] We are grateful to David Leonard for suggesting some of the points made in this paragraph.
decision-makers and the extensive pressures for concessions to these sectors deriving from such contacts. Colin Leys has argued recently that there is a fundamental contradiction involved in decision-making caused by the way that developing or underdeveloped countries are related to the global economy. Briefly, his point is that investors from the trading-center countries transfer capital and industrial technology to the periphery rawmaterial-producing countries. In the latter, centrist-company interests are protected by a ruling elite whose policies are designed by two groups: first, the foreign investors; and second, local smaller-scale capitalists whose economic interests coincide with the multinational or international companies from abroad. Each has an interest in relatively low wages and higher prices, each an element in generating higher profits or relatively higher returns on capital. But these are inconsistent with the interest of an emerging working class whose aspirations are for improved material standards of living, or in other terms, higher wages and lower prices. In order to ensure system maintenance and stability, policies must be developed and implemented. Leys asserts that the one option open to policy-makers is to squeeze the local middle-class entrepreneurs—the local capitalist class. And here, he states, is the fundamental contradiction: smaller-scale capitalists, supporting the foreign investors, find that the burden of accommodating emerging working-class demands has been shifted to them.[46] But is this the only plausible situation? Could there not be at least two others? First, unlike the zerosum framework of Leys' discussion, policies could be designed to expand the gross economic benefits that could be used to meet new and old demands. Second, unlike the stringent nature of the neo-Marxist concept of central dominance of the periphery, policies could be designed to redistribute gross economic benefits to new demands at the expense of old ones.
We are not suggesting that Leys' or other neo-Marxist points are wrong. per se. What we are saying is that situations vary, and policy-makers in some situations do not act in the interest of narrow economic groups. This, however, does not
[46] Colin Leys, Underdevelopment in Kenya: The Political Economy of Neo-Colonialism, 1964–1971 (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1974), chaps. 7–8.
rule out situations where policy reacts to broader and more community-oriented demands. In particular, the points do not offer the kind of optimism required for generating public-interest policies.
Furthermore, policy implementation in the LDCs contrasts with that taking place in the planned economies of the developed countries in the quality of policy-making, the inability to implement policies, and the difficulty of assessing the impact of policies.
The Quality of Policy-Making
The quality of policy-making in the LDCs tends to be lower than that in the developed countries primarily because of the lack of resources at the disposal of the planning organizations. In the U.S.S.R. and the more effectively planned societies of the West, trained staffs, consultants, computer facilities, data banks, and research funds are in relatively abundant supply; in the developing countries such resources are frequently unavailable. The effect may well be very substantial. In any political system, policy-making involves decisional actions based on partial knowledge. As Dror affirms, "Decision-making in the face of uncertainty constitutes . . . a main component of prescriptive policy analysis."[47] But the relative degree of information at the disposal of policy analysts may prove a decisive factor in the determination of priorities. Where data is rudimentary or non-existent, as in many of the LDCs, policy formers are compelled to rely extensively on guesses, intuitions, ideological preferences, or hunches; by contrast, the existence of a body of reasonably accurate data in some of the developed countries enhances the capacity of their planners for more efficacious collective choices. In the more developed societies, the resource limits on organizational effectiveness are minimized, allowing the trained analysts greatly increased scope to apply the latest instruments and techniques to the solution of problems at hand.[48] Since it will take some time before the developing
[47] Dror, "Some Diverse Approaches to Policy Analysis," (n. 7 above), p. 259.
[48] Joyce M. Mitchell and William C. Mitchell, Political Analysis andPublic Policy: An Introduction to Political Science (Chicago: Rand McNally, 1969), pp. 404–406.
countries can afford to allocate sufficient resources to achieve a high level of policy-making performance, their efforts at plan implementation and the effects of their decisions seem likely to remain comparatively costly (i.e., involving inefficient uses of scarce resources) in the years immediately ahead.
Not only does the quality of policy-making in the LDCs suffer by comparison with the more developed societies, but the conditions prevailing in them make policy application a considerably greater challenge as well. We do not wish to imply very extensive abilities here on the part of developed societies. But whereas a developed country can determine a line of action with some reasonable expectation that it can be implemented, no such assumption is warranted for most of the African states. This incapacity to effect policies can be attributed to a number of aspects: the inability to cope with powerful demands, the fragility and ineffectiveness of administrative structures, the weakness of authority systems, the frailty of available conflict management instruments, and defenselessness in the face of external power manipulations. The paucity of administrative structures acts as a major constraint on the application of policies. Thus, Botswana's scarcity of human, fiscal, and material resources for administrative purposes, largely attributable to inaction on the part of colonial officials, remains an inhibiting factor with respect to developmental efforts in the 1970s. Although the central administration had been expanded from 25 officers and a resident commissioner in the colonial period to 275 equivalent ministerial posts by 1967, the civil service continues to be inadequate to deal with the expanded economic and social activities of the independence period.[49] In addition to these limitations on trained manpower are the fiscal constraints arising from underdevelopment. Thus the Botswana budget allocates only twelve million rand ($16,800,000) in the 1969–70 fiscal year to the bureaucracy for ordinary recurrent expenditure purposes, an amount barely adequate for any but
[49] Republic of Botswana, National Development Plan 1970–75 (Gaborone: Government Printer, 1970), p. 121.
the most essential administrative services.[50] Under such circumstances the most rational of plans can be rendered ineffective by an insufficiently developed political and administrative infrastructure. To launch a sophisticated program only to see it atrophy because of ineffective implementational machinery is frustrating in the extreme, and quite possibly a misallocation of scarce resources. The politically articulate members of society may come to lose confidence in the efficacy of comprehensive planning before giving it an opportunity to organize the process of change.
Finally, where policies can be implemented it becomes difficult in the developing countries to appraise the effect of these actions on the economy and the society. The problem of evaluation, substantially greater than in the more developed countries, is primarily attributable to a lack of reliable knowledge. Because feedback information is often inadequate, planning organizations find it difficult to determine the effect public measures have had in the real world. All too often policy-making agencies in developing lands find themselves isolated (often in the main urban center) from events taking place around them, unable to gauge the actual consequences of public decisions through lack of contact and communication. And if the task of securing reliable data on the effects of programs is not trying enough, it is complicated further when attempts are made to compare results with those in other countries. What is to be the basis for meaningful comparison? Political cultures, developmental objectives, institutional capacity, expenditure patterns, and so forth tend to be insufficiently comparable. Therefore the paucity of cross-national data is often matched by an inability to utilize existing information from other countries in an effective manner.
Conclusion
Decision-makers in the less developed countries are immersed in the problerms of development administration. They
[50] Republic of Botswana, Statistical Abstracts 1970 (Gaborone: Central Statistics Office, 1972), Table No. 58.
appear to be seeking a comprehensive framework for making rational choices on questions of public concern. Combining analytic and prescriptive insights, a political economy approach seems appropriate as a conceptual framework. It can be utilized by students and decision-makers alike to evaluate policy choice, including policies related to the costs and benefits of extracting and distributing resources; establishing regulations on enterprise and activities; and making recommendations on stimulating the growth of new resources.
Nevertheless, the relevance of the current public-policy literature and the usefulness of applying such findings in the LDCs remains limited. In large part, this assessment is founded on the origins of research and application of the policy sciences in the developed countries. All too often the conceptualization that takes place outside the Third World is not relevant to the African states; it gives inadequate consideration to differences in political culture and seems frequently to rest on deterministic thinking, narrow time perspectives, static theoretical orientations, and insufficient emphases on life-affirming objectives. The genesis of the policy sciences in Western and, in terms of planning experience, Eastern circumstances also inhibits its practical application on the African continent because of the nontransferability of experiences from these highly industrialized societies. Soviet experiments with planning may have little practical utility for Chad; moreover, Western-based research, with its pluralistic and capitalistic orientation, includes assumptions, values, and goals that may well be at odds with the dynamic of transformation manifest in Africa today. In addition, the Eastonian process model applies somewhat less neatly to the interactions of the political system occurring in the Third World. At each stage sharp differences of behavior can be delineated: the sources of demand-inputs, the brittleness and ineffectiveness of governmental structures, the extent of choice open to policy-makers, the capacity to implement decisions, and the ability to appraise the consequences of policy actions. The result of this is to reduce greatly the relevance of existing public-policy research and experience to Africa's developmental efforts—at least in the period immediately ahead.
If public-policy research and application has not always
proved meaningful to Third World experience, recourse to the more generalized comparative policy-making field has, not unexpectedly, been no-ticeably slower yet. Perhaps applicable in principle, a comparative public-policy overview has nonetheless exhibited serious methodological and practical drawbacks as employed in African circumstances. Not only is current statistical data unreliable and lacking in comparability, but the nature and processing of demands are so unlike those in the more developed countries that cross-national analysis can become a somewhat futile exercise. In developing countries, governments lack the capacity to put policies into effect, and where policies are implemented, the task of evaluating the consequences of these actions is difficult in the extreme. Thus the impediments to meaningful comparative analysis are high. Even so, it is not wise to lose sight of the unrealized promise (in terms of decisional efficiency) of a comparative approach between less developed areas sharing similar problems throughout the world. To the extent that a comparative overview can enhance the efficient use of resources and increase African choice, it offers students and statesmen a potentially useful instrument for both analysis and prescription.
Appendix. An African Community's Decision-Making Model
African communities make decisions in situations of significant scarcity of resources. Some African nations are among the world's resource poorest. Not only are per capita income levels low throughout the continent, but their increases tend to lag as well. The gap between the rich and the poor is becoming more accentuated despite the fact that from 1950 to 1970 it has been estimated that African countries grew economically at a rate approaching 4 percent per annum. This rate is rather greater than the rates experienced by contemporary industrialized countries during their earlier stage. However, population increases in Africa have decreased the per capita growth rate below the level generally experienced in these industrialized countries.
We offer this formalized model of community decision-making in order to isolate the particular decisions that a community must make. In focusing on the key issue of what to produce, we employ indifference-curve analysis, and we make three assumptions. First, we assume that a significant number of the community's population have similar patterns of taste and, consequently, preferences for benefit patterns as they relate to community output. Second, we assume that certain citizens do in fact deviate to a limited extent from the community's preferences and that others deviate from them so greatly that they are alienated from, or are violently in conflict with, both the pattern of benefits produced by the system and the institutions and processes through which that pattern is determined. Third, we assume that the community's institutions, rules, and processes are broadly responsive to majority demands. In making these assumptions, we recognize that the manner of determining community preferences is significantly different in more developed and in less developed countries. Whereas elections, competitive parties, and interest groups contribute significantly to the setting of these community preferences in the West, the community's leadership has a wider scope for initiative in determining preferences under modern African circumstances.
We begin our analysis by assuming that there are only two benefits, X and Y. In terms of these benefits, the community's satisfaction depends on the amounts of X and Y that it can acquire. In Figure 1, in which the two coordinates represent amounts of X and Y, all points on a contour line represent collections of benefits that are equally satisfying to the community, or among which it is indifferent. That is, if a given collection of benefits is represented by a point A on the graph, it can be presumed that individuals are indifferent to any choice among collection A and all other possible points or collections, B, C, D, on the same contour line I1 . Other indifference curves can be drawn on the diagram, depicting other degrees of satisfaction. All combinations on higher indifference curves are satisfying, and combinations on higher indifference curves are preferable to those on lower indifference curves. In effect, those indifference curves lying farther from the zero intercept are the more preferred ones on the indifference map. In Figure 2, all
Figure 1
Figure 2
points on indifference curve I2 , such a point E, are preferred to points D, C, B, and A on I1 .
In Figure 2, we define units of X as public goods and Y as private goods. Public goods are collections of benefits provided by government and include a vast array of specific outputs such as, for example, research, education and public health services. Private goods are all of those outputs ranked and produced by nongovernmental entities, particularly business firms. They range from consumer products to investments.
The community will wish to choose some combination of X and Y on indifference curve I2 , any point on which is preferable to any point on I1 . The combination of public and private goods chosen is often referred to as the "social balance." What should constitute this balance is an extremely important political question; indeed debate on the issue represents one of the major cleavages within African and other communities.
The indifference curve indicates what benefits the community would like to achieve. But what the community actually can achieve is another matter. The extent to which the most preferred position, represented by the highest indifference curve (I2 in Figure 2), can be attained depends on resource endowment, technology, and social institutions. To cope with these variables, we shall describe what economists call the community's production possibilities curve.
A production possibilities curve can isolate community choice in regard to what can be produced. It can conceptualize
the issue of scarcity by pointing out that only a limited amount of output can be produced, and in order for the community to reach the highest indifference curve possible, scarce community resources must be used as efficiently as possible. In deciding on tests of efficiency, the community's decision-makers can be guided toward implementing policies that determine whether production should take place through public or private enterprise, a crucial decision in regard to institutional structure.
A production possibilities curve represents the alternative quantities of benefits which a community is capable of producing given the limitations of its resource base, state of technology, and institutional structure. In Figure 3, the production possibilities curve P1 represents the alternative quantities of X and Y which can be produced by a given resource endowment, fully used and combined, through appropriate social and political institutions, in the most technologically productive manner. It is reasonable to assume that increasing the production of benefits will result in an increased use of resources. The production possibilities curve is concave to the original because we assume that each is produced under conditions of diminishing returns. Combinations F, B, and G are among those possible along production possibilities curve P1 .
The community would like, however, to produce beyond the production possibilities curves. To do so would mean more goods and services and a higher standard of living. But the curve is the boundary beyond which production cannot go, because there are no other resources from which to produce. If new natural resources are made available, or if the population becomes better skilled, more productive, or better organized, or if technology improves, the production possibilities curve can be shifted from P1 to P2 , as in Figure 4.
We are now in a position to bring together the community's indifference and production possibilities curves. In Figure 5, the community's indifference map includes community indifference curves I1 and I2 , and production possibility map including P1 and P2 . Clearly the community prefers a point on I2 , such as E, to any point on I1 , such as point B. The production possibility map includes production possibility curves P1 and P2 and an unspecified number of others not
Figure 3
Figure 4
Figure 5
shown. If the community uses all of its resources most efficiently, through the technically most productive methods at its disposal, we assume that it can reach only P1 . Less than full use of its resources would limit the community to a production possibilities curve to the left of P1 . But full resource use permits the community to attain the I1 only at B. Production possibility curves lying to the right of P1 are potential and require expanding resource endowments, technological changes, or the improvements in social institutions. If such changes take place, then the community can move transitively from the zero intercept from point B on I1 to point E on I2 . This is because the community's production possibilities shifted from P1 to P2 . Thus the community has become "better-off" because it has become more productive. This means that the community
"can" make each individual "better-off." Whether this takes place depends on how equitably economic output is distributed among the community's people.
Thus far we have dealt only with resource use, noting that an indifference map tells us something about what a community wants to do and that a production possibilities field tells us something about what it can do in terms of the available community resources. Money is earned by productive factors and it is spent on taxes (or direct government payments) to cover the resource costs of public production. Money is also spent on privately produced goods and services. The public and private market decisions that give rise to establishing wages (and incomes) and prices essentially determines for whom the community's production will take place. That is, the decisions are pertinent to economic distribution.
We now turn our attention to the matter of money costs paid to resources used in production. In effect, in an economy based on specialization and exchange, money must be paid to resources for their services. In the private sector, prices are paid for goods, and this money is distributed to resources (or their owners) in the form of wages, salaries, rents, and profits. In the public sector, the same type of distribution takes place. When money payments are made in the form of taxes, they are paid to publicly employed resources. The term "money price-ratio line" refers to the ratio of all money prices paid for public goods to all money prices paid for private goods. This line is also called the community's budget line. We develop this line labeled B2 by assuming that the community's money income is $600 million, the price of a unit X, a public good, is $3.00, and the price of a unit of Y, a private good, is also $3.00. Figure 6 shows that, if the community should allocate all of its income on Y, it could attain 200 million units shown at point R and private spending would be 100 percent of income. The community could consume the same amount of X at point T and pay all of its income in taxes for public goods. It could also spend this income on varying proportion of X and Y. A straight line joining these points shows the alternative combinations of X and Y that the community can attain with a given money
Figure 6
Figure 7
income, given the prices of private and public goods. This line we refer to as its money cost ratio line, or budget line.
Community's indifference curve, a production possibilities curve, and a budget line are brought together in Figure 7. This figure shows that the community can allocate resources between X and Y in order to achieve the preferred position on indifference curve I2 . Combination E will give the community a higher level of satisfaction than will any other combination allowable with its resources (as shown on production possibilities curve P2 ), its income, and the prices of X and Y. The community maximizes its preferred position by choosing that combination of X and Y where its budget line is tangent both to the highest indifference curve it can reach and to the production possibilities curve that reflects the fullest and most productive use of all its resources. These conditions are met at point E. In terms of this example, we conclude that one half of the community's income goes to taxation while the other half is retained in the private sector.
Our brief model[51] is usable in the sense that it provides a conceptual basis for analyzing institutional structures and processes that a community might develop in order to decide on
[51] Larry L. Wade and Robert L. Curry, Jr., A Logic of Public Policy (n. 18 above), pp. 60–73; and Thomas L. Dye, Understanding Public Policy (n. 2 above), chap. 1.
what to produce, how to produce, and for whom to produce. The model's orientation is to rational decision-making by a community. In succeeding chapters we shall deal with particular types of decisions, kinds of decision-makers, and various decision-making rules. An understanding of them, we feel, is pertinent to an understanding of the function of a developing country's polity and economy as it strives to make rational choices.
PART II—
SHAPING POLICY CHOICE UNDER SCARCITY
Chapter 2—
Changing Institutional Resources
In the previous chapter we touched on the importance of institutions in the conversion of demands into public policies. Thus an examination of institutional mechanisms is critical to an appreciation of the possibilities open to Third World policy-makers to expand economic options. Although policy choice in middle Africa is the central subject of this work, we think that a look at the main institutions affecting the process of choice is essential to a full understanding of the environment in which these priorities are established. After all, priorities cannot be determined unless structures are there to organize the interactions among actors, and they cannot become realized objectives unless institutional resources exist to put them into effect.
Political, economic, and technological capabilities are inevitably circumscribed in most countries the world over, and particularly in less developed middle Africa. Statesmen must invest substantial resources in such institutions as political parties, government, bureaucracies, armies, police, universities, parastatal organizations, cooperatives, legal codes, trade unions, corporations, legislative and judicial organs, and so forth, in order to create the means for coping with environmental strains.
It is precisely because their environmental burdens are so enormous that these leaders must necessarily set rankings and preferences in terms of their particular needs and objectives. Unlike the situation in the industrialized states of the West, these leaders find themselves confronted with a number of challenges simultaneously. Thus such critical tasks of state-building and state-maintenance as establishing a national identity, ensuring national survival, integrating pluralistic societies (both horizontally and vertically), creating an acceptable authority system, mobilizing and distributing economic resources efficiently, and securing freedom from external control (see Chapter 3), cannot be dealt with individually and over a lengthy period; a determined effort must be made to deal with them on the various fronts at the same time. In order to be effective in these undertakings, statesmen rely heavily on institutional resources to achieve the most desirable ordering of priorities. However, it is because the frailest of state entities must deal with the heaviest burdens (what we describe as the "capabilities paradox" in Africa) that the strain on institutional mechanisms is so great. This capabilities imbalance in turn accounts for the variety of measures utilized to shore up ineffective institutions as well as for the frequent inability of these structures to perform the function of conversion.
Institutions are a major factor in the policy-making process because of the central role they play in enabling the decision elite to manage the strains emanating from the environment. In the most general sense, the institutions of state foster opportunities for public choice, increasing "an organization's ability to make effective responses to its environment and to change this environment in accordance with its needs."[1] And by offering promising means for regulating and regularizing the interactions among diverse cultural and economic groups, they facilitate, among other things, the vital process of political exchange. It is as these "exchange currencies" gain acceptability and predictability that a web of relationships seem likely to evolve, with obvious stabilizing and developmental implications.[2] As Uphoff
[1] Karl W. Deutsch, The Nerves of Government (New York: Free Press, 1966), p. 140.
[2] A discussion of the ongoing interactional process in interethnic exchange relationships appears in Donald Rothchild, Racial Bargaining inIndependent Kenya: A Study of Minorities and Decolonization (London: Oxford University Press, for the Institute of Race Relations, 1973), chaps. 1, 4, 13, and his "Changing Racial Stratifications and Bargaining Styles: The Kenya Experience," Canadian Journal of African Studies 7, no. 3 (1973): pp. 430–31.
and Ilchman note: "Political and administrative infrastructure can promote or facilitate exchange between regime and sectors, and among sectors. . . . It helps each determine more accurately prevailing 'prices' or rates of exchange for resources; it can increase the convertibility of resources, one to another, by raising the predictability of exchange or by accelerating the mobility with which resources are exchanged and used."[3] Thus structures emerge as resources of the political system which can assist state-building by enabling the polity to endure and achieve its objectives. Nevertheless, such institutions can only fulfill their purposes if they are used with great effectiveness—by absorbing a wide range of demands on the political system. An inability to function efficiently in this respect leaves open the distinct possibility of "reversals" or "breakdowns" in the process of "modernization."[4]
In addition, state-builders in Third World countries must grapple skillfully with a central problem in transferring institutions: how to make use of inherited, colonial structural resources and at the same time create a locally acceptable authority system. In the final analysis, institutions can only prove genuine resources if they are not merely acceptable to the political leaders who negotiate the terms on which independence is transferred but are also seen to be acceptable by the politically relevant strata of the population. How are essentially alien institutions to gain acceptability from Third World publics—and quickly enough to survive the traumas associated with the transfer of power to indigenous hands? Clearly, as Figure 8 suggests, the key to the persistence of institutions lies in the ability of decision elites to adapt them to new needs and circumstances. After analyzing the environment in which these
[3] Norman T. Uphoff and Warren F. Ilchman, The Political Economy of Development (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1972), p. 411.
[4] S. N. Eisenstadt, "Breakdowns of Modernization," Economic Development and Cultural Change 12, no. 4 (July 1964): 347.
Figure 8
Source: Ralph Braibanti, Administrative Reconstruction:
Diffusion of the Democratic Experience (Oxford University
Press, forthcoming). A more elaborate variation of this
schematic diagram can also be found in "The Relevance
of Political Science to the Study of Underdeveloped,
Areas" in Ralph Braibanti and Joseph J. Spengler (eds.),
Tradition, Values and Socio-Economic Development
(Durham: Duke University Press, 1961), p. 154.
structures were transferred and black Africa's reception of these colonially radiated values and institutions, it will be possible to deal generally with the ways leaders have experimented with institutional design in order to increase their capacity to make choices.
The Colonial Environment
In middle Africa, the state is currently and largely the product (or by-product) of external action. Alien peoples from Europe imposed their systems, procedures, and values upon the local inhabitants, who were in no position to offer effective resistance for want of technical and organizational knowledge. During this unique but transitory phase, foreign administrators, largely unaccountable to local guidance or control, exercised a wide measure of discretion by shaping the state institutions of the future. Such discretion was enhanced by the relatively low level of modernist demands prevailing in the early years of colonial rule. Local nationalists did not make the same kinds of claims for a share of centrally controlled power or resources that were to become manifest with the approach to independence. A fluid situation prevailed in which European administrators had a fleeting opportunity to override fissiparous forces and to promote institutional linkages. Decision costs were low,
and the very arbitrariness of the colonial relationship facilitated the process of state-building and institutional transfer.
Before examining the efforts at structural innovation imposed on Africa by colonial officials, it is necessary to give a broad overview of the environment in which they operated. In brief, the picture that emerges in the precolonial and early colonial periods is one of subsistence economies, various and changing identities, low rates of interethnic exchange, and ineffective (and, in the white settler territories, counterproductive) attempts on the part of administrators to facilitate exchange in the colonial years. A temporary opportunity to build enduring structures was largely dissipated through inaction or illiberally conceived actions.
On assuming authority in Africa, the early colonial agents generally found levels of interethnic integration more akin to Ali A. Mazrui's stage of "contact" than to those he depicts as "compromise" or "coalescence."[5] In a number of areas, ethnic self-consciousness lacked any deep historical roots; a sense of collective unity emerged only recently among the units (for example, the Bangala of Zaire, the Ngoni of Zambia, and the Yoruba of Nigeria), and in response to the challenges posed by modernist forces in the colonial period.[6] Moreover, where cultural identities did crystalize, the interactional process varied from harmonious to highly conflictive. Thus many peoples lived side by side in a peaceful relationship, exhibiting
[5] "Pluralism and National Integration," in Leo Kuper and M. G. Smith (eds.), Pluralism in Africa (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1969), p. 334. For reasons of space, we shall concentrate on horizontal rather than vertical integration (interclass, interrace, elitemass) in this essay. On this, also see Philip Mason, Patterns of Dominance (London: Oxford University Press, for the Institute of Race Relations, 1970), pp. 56–65.
[6] See Robert Molteno, "Cleavage and Conflict in Zambian Politics: A Study in Sectionalism," in William Tordoff (ed.), Politics in Zambia (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1974), pp. 92–97. Charles W. Anderson, Fred R. von der Mehden, and Crawford Young, Issues of Political Development (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1967), pp. 31–33, and Kenneth Post and Michael Vickers, Structure and Conflict in Nigeria, 1960–1966 (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1973), pp. 16–17.
no long-standing antagonism or competition over land, cattle, or farming rights. In West Africa, where considerable urbanization had occurred, a substantial proportion of the population was engaged in trade. An exceptionally conflictive encounter did mark the scene in western Kenya, however. There the Abaluyia were exposed to "haphazard and unconnected" raiding activities from four "external enemies": the Luo, the Nandi, the Teso, and the Uasin Gishu Masai. "Whereas the Nandi and Masai raids were motivated by their insatiable greed for cattle," asserts Gideon S. Were, "the Luo and Teso ones were basically caused by the desire for land."[7] For Were, the Masai and Kalenjin raids in the country to the west of the Nandi escarpment became "institutionalized activities" by the beginning of the nineteenth century and led to "attendant havoc, destruction, and loss of life, cattle, and property."[8] On their side, the Luo sought to occupy the cooler and wetter lands in central Nyanza during the nineteenth century in order to relieve growing population pressures. Bethwell A. Ogot describes this last phase of Luo migration and settlement as follows:
These new lands were not acquired by the Luo through peaceful infiltration; they were all acquired by conquest. It would be misleading, however, to convey the impression that this was a planned and organized invasion of Bantu areas by Luo marauders. It was a confused and haphazard movement, with each sub-tribe acting independently. It was, to quote Evans-Pritchard again, "like a line of shunting trucks."[9]
But if considerable interethnic strife marked the western Kenya scene in the period just prior to the advent of European overrule, the picture remains less than complete without a paralleling emphasis on the aspects of reciprocity and harmony (even assimilation) also evident in communal encounters. Dur-
[7] Gideon S. Were, A History of the Abaluyia of Western Kenya (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1967), p. 134.
[8] Ibid., p. 137.
[9] Bethwell A. Ogot, History of the Southern Luo, vol. 1 (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1967), p. 220. Also see the excellent account of Luo migrations in Roland Oliver, "Discernible Developments in The Interior, 1500–1840," in Roland Oliver and Gervase Mathew (eds.), History of East Africa, vol. 1 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1963), pp. 171–84.
ing the nineteenth century, alliances were reported between such peoples as the Abaluyia and Luo clans in the area around Gem, [10] and Bantu-Nilotic assimilation occurred in the Rift Valley as well as in the western Kenya highlands region.[11] The process of constant interaction and intermingling makes highly artificial (and even misleading) any account that isolates an ethnic group from its contacts with neighboring peoples. As one author comments on the complexity of ethnic group origins and compositions:
Though we may for convenience classify tribes by their languages as Bantu, Nilotic, Cushitic, etc., the more we examine them, the more mixed we find their ancestries to be. A tribe emerges not by maintaining the pure blood of its ancestors, not by sedulously avoiding contact with its neighbors, but by successfully assimilating its diverse elements. . . . The history of East Africa and of its component regions is not just a collection of histories of individual tribes or groups of tribes, but a story of fusion and interaction by which all tribes and groups have been constantly altered or even transformed.[12]
Thus the origins and interactions of ethnic peoples on the African scene were complex, varied, and in a state of continuous change. Where ethnic identities did exhibit self-awareness in these precolonial times, their relationships were normally peaceful, although in certain instances conflicts of interest involving force did occur. Group self-awareness was consciously and unconsciously made more poignant by the coming of the European authority system. Not only did increased economic contact foster differential rates of growth within the territories, but the various administrations further sharpened a consciousness of separate ethnic interests through policies on military recruitment, education, the amalgamation of peoples for administrative purposes, the maintenance of law and order, and the determination of district and provincial boundaries.
On examining the above elements of ethnic self-awareness one cannot but be struck by their overlaps and interrelations.
[10] Were, p. 134.
[11] J. E. G. Sutton, "The Settlement of East Africa," in B. A. Ogot and J. A. Kiernan (eds.), Zamani: A Survey of East African History (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1968), p. 93.
[12] Ibid., pp. 95–96.
To be sure, ethnic groups such as the Yoruba, Ibo, or Bemba became more cohesive and identifiable as a result of modernization; yet a number of these rather fluid groupings have long served as the main identities around which many people united. In a world fraught with danger and isolation, men quite naturally held tight to their traditional attachments and identified primarily with the family, clan, and ethnic collective. Loyalty and legitimacy were therefore directed inwards toward these solidarity groups rather than outwards toward the new state mechanism erected by alien outsiders. If, in the early days of colonial rule, a conflict occurred at all between ethnic identities and the integrity of the newly created administrative structures, the former generally proved the more durable as far as subjective symbols of loyalty were concerned.[13]
The urge to belong to the birth-ascribed group was therefore fundamental to the phenomenon of self-identification through real or fictitious common ancestral ties.[14] "Ethnicity," states George DeVos, "is a subjective sense of belonging that cannot be defined by taking external behavioral criteria alone. The basic sense of ethnicity is expressively one answer to a human social need to belong."[15] Nevertheless, certain external behavior criteria all acted to reinforce self-identification. People who spoke a different language, ate distinctive foods, dressed with special colors or styles, or displayed unique scars tended to feel themselves united to their kinship connections through a common destiny. Thus distinguishing characteristics and a sense of common history (past and future) became intertwined. The individual found his identity. through group membership, but,
[13] Clifford Geertz, "The Integrative Revolution: Primordial Sentiments and Civic Politics in the New States," in Clifford Geertz (ed.), Old Societies and New States: The Quest for Modernity in Asia and Africa (New York: Free Press, 1963), pp. 105–11. Also see Nelson Kasfir, "Cultural Sub-Nationalism in Uganda," in Victor A. Olorunsola (ed.), The Politics of Cultural Sub-Nationalism in Africa (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, Anchor Books, 1972), p. 62.
[14] Gerald D. Berreman, "Race, Caste, and Other Invidious Distinctions in Social Stratification," Race 13, no. 4 (April 1972): 388.
[15] George DeVos, "Social Stratification and Ethnic Pluralism: An Overview from the Perspective of Psychological Anthropology," Race 13, no. 4 (April 1972): 443.
by emphasizing his membership to the part, he complicated and often weakened his ties of citizenship to the whole. And the leap from common fate to shared insecurity was short. Wherever his group seemed to be threatened politically, economically, or militarily, he was inclined to coalesce with his kinsmen in order to ensure the survival of his primary object of identification. In some circumstances, the environment placed great strains upon state-building initiatives, inhibiting the growth of viable territorial institutions capable of promoting interethnic exchange.
Although the lack of "fit" between ethnic claims and the reach of state institutions was apparent, it is nonetheless important to stress the additional difficulties in the way of national integration resulting from the colonizer's policies and actions. The initiatives of colonial administrations in some instances contributed directly to subsequent problems of fostering interethnic linkages. Various policies on "closed areas," "indirect rule," and provincial autonomy may have proved administratively convenient during the period at hand, but their long-term consequences were highly divisive. The adoption of the southern policy in the Sudan, emphasizing the building up of self-contained traditional units in the south, the gradual elimination of northern Sudanese administrators, clerks, and technicians in the southern Sudan, and the use of the English language as a "lingua franca" in that area, had the effect of encouraging separatism, not national cohesion.[16] Similarly, the institutionalization of indirect rule in Nigeria fostered northsouth cleavages which are still in evidence today; by closing the north to Christian missionary influences, maintaining traditional authority structures in the north, and administering the two areas in separate and distinct manners, the British aggravated an already difficult integration problem.[17] Other instances—Zaire, Upper Volta, Sierra Leone, Uganda, Zambia—could be
[16] Mohamed Omer Beshir, The Southern Sudan: Background to Conflict (London: C. Hurst & Co., 1968), p. 46; and Beshir Mohammed Said, The Sudan Crossroads of Africa (London: Bodley Head, 1965), pp. 33–37.
[17] See Obafemi Awolowo, The People's Republic (Ibadan: Oxford University Press, 1968), p. 62.
advanced to make a similar point, namely that the interethnic conflicts of the precolonial and early colonial environment were sometimes exacerbated by the establishment of colonial institutions and policies which failed to create an effective network of exchange relationships.
Furthermore, differential rates of contact with Western values, practices, and technology had the effect of intensifying ethnic tensions. Western economic enterprise in Zambia has long concentrated on the line-of-rail provinces, leaving the remaining parts neglected in terms of employment opportunities, amenities, and social services. As recently as 1969, the more advantaged line-of-rail areas still accounted for 84 percent of the total number of employees and 91 percent of total earnings from employment; disparities in road building, housing materials, and electrification have also tended to vary noticeably.[18] The frustrations and feelings of group deprivation arising from these inequalities of opportunity have led to various postindependence appeals for reallocative equity.[19]
Internal inequities resulting from differential developmental programs have also marked the Nigerian scene. In that country, the more rapid economic and social modernization of the south drove a wedge between this region and the separately administered northern hinterland. Of particular significance in this regard is the differential rate of educational expansion in the two areas. The educational gap, which left the north far behind its southern counterparts with respect to trained manpower resources, exacerbated fears of a rapid movement toward independence and of a monopolization of administrative positions by educated southerners in the period after independence.[20] In
[18] Donald Rothchild, "Rural-Urban Inequities and Resource Allocation in Zambia," Journal of Commonwealth Political Studies 10, no. 3 (November 1972): 224.
[19] See, for example, Times of Zambia (Ndola), September 1, 1971, p. 1; and Molteno, "Cleavage and Conflict" (n. 6 above), pp. 92–97. For a similar process in Kenya, see Donald Rothchild, "Ethnic Inequalities in Kenya," in Olorunsola (ed.), Politics of Cultural Sub-Nationalism in Africa, pp. 298–303.
[20] David B. Abernethy, The Political Dilemma of Popular Education: An African Case (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1969), p. 265.
Chief Awolowo's eyes, notherners "betray an inexplicable hostility and resentment towards Southerners for being too far ahead of them in Western education."[21] Thus Western contacts promoted disparities which in turn led to different administrative policies and programs—a process of feedback. Such an interplay of forces underlines the interactional process at hand between the social tensions of the environment and the exogenous factor of colonial rule. Neither can be fully understood in isolation from the other—a fact too often lost sight of in the literature on this topic.
The Radiating Source
Given the unaccountability and technical superiority of the colonial authority, it is not surprising to find it cast in the role of innovative agent in the process of institutional transfer. Its investments in political and administrative infrastructure followed logically from a perceived need to enhance organizational capacity at the lowest possible cost. However, by making low investments in such infrastructure, colonial rulers made inadequate use of the opportunities at hand to establish effective structures for the creation of national identities, for the establishment of an acceptable authority system, for the enhancement of economic growth and development, and for the furtherance of intersectional exchange.
In bringing about institutional innovation, colonial officials had substantial resources at their disposal. For one thing, they had access to knowledge, skills, and technical resources which gave them definite advantages over local elites. For another, their possession of technological and organizational power acted to widen their distance from indigenous competition, reducing local resistance to innovation and facilitating bureaucratic capacity for initiative. For still another, their cohesion and the extent of their organization resulted in relatively low decision costs, allowing them considerable freedom of action in a situation of minimal countervailing power.
Thus colonial administrations had distinct advantages in
[21] Awolowo, People's Republic p. 63.
building institutional resources. As noted above, their capacity for achieving innovative goals was in part a function of a "command model" operative during colonial times.[22] In this context a command model suggests a process of extensive hierarchical control in which decision-makers exercise considerable (but not total) regulative authority over the body politic. Its bureaucratically directed societies are characterized by low levels of mass participation, elite dominance, and limited public accountability. Although control is directed from the top downward, some reciprocity between rulers and ruled is inevitable. Therefore, even in a colonial situation, limits on the discretion of administrative agencies were readily apparent. In colonial East Africa, for example, elements of reciprocity in administrator-societal relations appeared on such issues as the provision of an unofficial European majority on the Kenya legislative council, the creation of an East African federation, and the right of various racial and ethnic peoples to own land.[23] A power imbalance prevailed, to be sure; nevertheless, the existence of reciprocity between bureaucrats and society ensured that power would always remain relational and dynamic, not monopolistic and static.
By comparison with a bargaining model (which assumes a broader range for open conflict among decision-makers), the command process concentrates decision-making authority, thereby lowering decisional costs. In this regard, James M. Buchanan and Gordon Tullock point out that "bargaining opportunities afforded in the political process cause the individual to invest more resources in decision-making, and, in this way, cause the attainment of 'solution' to be much more costly."[24] Compared with the wide array of groups engaged in
[22] For a useful discussion of command processes, see Joyce M. Mitchell and William C. Mitchell, Political Analysis and Public Policy (Chicago: Rand McNally, 1969), pp. 517–24; and Robert A. Dahl and Charles E. Lindblom, Politics, Economics, and Welfare (New York: Harper and Row, 1953), chaps. 8 and 9.
[23] These points are dealt with in Donald Rothchild, Politics of Integration: An East African Documentary (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1968), Part II.
[24] James M. Buchanan and Gordon Tullock, The Calculus of Consent (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1962), p. 111. Also seeMancur Olson, The Logic of Collective Action (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1965), p. 42.
a postcolonial bargaining situation, the colonial command process represented an extremely limited arena for decision-making. As such, the colonial command process reduced organization costs to a minimum, for only a relatively small number of participants took part in arriving at decisions. Often the nation-building concept employed by African countries at independence enlarged the number of political actors on the decision-making stage, and thereby increased decisional costs for policy-makers engaged iin determining public priorities.
If the radiating sources were endowed with resource and organizational superiority, the question remains as to the way they used their power to transmit new institutional mechanisms to the societies under their influence. Not only did the colonial authorities possess the power to alter the environment under their sway, but they could and did generate the collective will (i.e., directed energy) to do so. "Power," observes Karl W. Deutsch, "cannot accomplish more than a succession of random impacts on the environment, unless there is some relatively fixed goal or purpose, some decision or strategic class or sequence of decisions, by which the application of power can be guided and directed."[25]
In this case, it was the colonial powers that provided the fixed purpose—and in the form of institutional transfer. By fundamentally altering traditional institutions such as chieftainship (through the inclusion of chiefs in the civil service hierarchy, the assignment of new tasks, the abolition, in certain instances, of tribute, and changes in recruitment and retention procedures),[26] and by creating and fostering (albeit unenthusiastically in certain instances) such institutions as legislatures, executives, bureaucracies, marketing boards, corporate structures, economic exchange and fiscal systems, labor unions, interest groups, armies, political parties, election systems, legal codes, universities, churches, judiciaries, and so forth, colonial administrations acted as agents of change on the African scene.
[25] Deutsch, Nerves of Government (n. 1 above), p. 110.
[26] Lloyd A. Fallers, Inequality: Social Stratification Reconsidered (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1973), pp. 50–51.
Their motives were varied and largely self-interested (the establishment of an authority system; the maintenance of "law and order"; the mobilization and allocation of human, material, and fiscal resources; the regulation of intersectional conflicts, etc.); nevertheless the effect of this ability and will to innovate was an investment in institutions which substantially endured the traumas of independence.
No doubt the element of self-interest in the process of radiating a network of structures around Africa was to create future problems of institutional legitimacy. As African nationalists came to identify these European-imposed structures with alien interests and power, there was little alternative left to transformation. Tom Mboya's remarks on the necessity of altering institutional legacies is instructive in this respect:
That institutional change is necessary in East Africa in order to achieve these ends is scarcely a matter for debate. Neither the traditional institutional arrangements indigenous to East Africa, the institutions inherited from colonialism, nor the strange amalgamation of the two that has occasionally emerged offers a sound institutional basis for future progress. The indigenous arrangements are too steeped in self-sufficiency and subsistence living to be constructive without modification in a modern specialized economy; and the colonial institutions were too often designed with the narrow view of maintaining law and order, or creating an economy supplementary or complenientary to metropolitan needs, a necessary but certainly not a sufficient condition for progress. It has been, and indeed continues to be, necessary to modify existing institutions and to design and introduce new ones.[27]
In African nationalist eyes, then, colonial institutions were tainted by their origins, functions, and purposes. Alien authorities thousands of miles from the scene had transmitted a variety of institutions by fiat and by the radiation of their values to secure ordered and beneficial relationships with their dependencies.[28] To be sure, a strong desire existed to enjoy the
[27] Tom Mboya, "The Impact of Modern Institutions on the East African," in P. H. Gulliver (ed.), Tradition and Transition in East Africa (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1969), p. 91.
[28] Ralph Braibanti, "Public Bureaucracy and Judiciary in Pakistan," in Joseph LaPalombara (ed.), Bureaucracy and Political Development (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1963), p. 435.
perquisites and status of positions in these institutions; even so, unless the nationalists could themselves be allowed to become the institutional innovators, the very survival of these inherited structures would be at stake. This was an essential aspect in the struggle for national self-determination.
The transmission process occurred over an extended time span. It involved a continuous effort on the part of the agent of change to create the necessary political and administrative infrastructure for viable rule. Colonial administrations superimposed institutions on the African territories which largely paralleled those found in their own countries, with varying outcomes in terms of the attainment and acceptability of goals.
Colonial decision-makers put into effect economic policies and programs that weakened certain local practices in subsistence agriculture, pastoral life and customs, and trading activities. In Samir Amin's apt terms, Africa lost its autonomy and was "shaped according to foreign requirements."[29] By radiating outward the institutions of private enterprise, Western technology, and capitalism—money economies; large European trading companies as well as smaller, locally owned industrial, agricultural, and commerical enterprises; individual land ownership based on registered title; modern financial organizations for controlling exchange and the accumulation of wealth; and so forth—colonialism jolted those it contacted out of long-held economic practices and techniques. As a consequence, the traditional economy with its self-sufficienty, minimal levels of intersectional trade, communal life-styles, low real output and income, and limited savings was gradually transformed into a competitive, individually owned, and specialized economic and technological system linked both to the immediate territory at hand and to the world economy.[30] Not only were the large, heavily capitalized mines, ranches, and plantations geared to
[29] Samir Amin, "Underdevelopment and Dependence in Black Africa—Origins and Contemporary Forms," Journal of Modern African Studies 10, no. 4 (December 1972): 511.
[30] William J. Barber, The Economy of British Central Africa (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1961), pp. 44–51; and George H. T. Kimble, Tropical Africa, vol. 1 (New York: Twentieth Century Fund, 1960), pp. 11–28.
overseas markets, but the smaller pastoralists and farmers found themselves drawn into a cash economy that looked to overseas markets as a final destination for their products. And as the level of productivity and disposable wealth increased, Africans (in particular, the privileged classes among them) became intertwined with the international economy as consumers as well as producers. This linkage process became the basis for the development of the powerful overseas wholesaling companies as well as the extensive network of retail trading outlets and subsidiary firms. Despite the inequality of the exchange, some Africans did secure European-manufactured goods in the process, causing them to become more tightly enmeshed in the modern, capitalistic economy of the West. Colonially radiated structures had tied them to the interdependent world economy created by Western Europe—and largely on Western terms. Africa could not easily return to the traditional economy and, given the prevailing international division of labor, could not gain equality of opportunity or self-determination within the imposed Western capitalistic system. "Historically," President Nyerere asserts, "Tanzania was part of the Western Bloc; this was part of colonialism and there was nothing we could do about it."[31] Africa, then, was linked to the Western-dominated system during colonial times by powerful economic, technological, and political forces beyond its control, a process which bore striking similarities with respect to economic impact throughout the region as a whole. Samir Amin notes that,
although the target was the same everywhere, different variants of the system of colonial exploitation were developed. These did not depend, or [depended] only slightly, on the nationality of the coloniser. The contrast between French direct and British indirect rule, so frequent in the literature, is not very noticeable in Africa. It is true that a few differences are attributable to the nationality of the masters. British capital, being richer and more developed, and having additionally acquired the "best pieces" of land, carried out an earlier and more thorough development than French capital. Belgium, which had been forced to come to terms with the Great Powers, and had to accept the competition of foreign goods in the Congo, did not have the direct colonial monopolies which France
[31] Julius K. Nyerere, Freedom and Socialism (London: Oxford University Press, 1968), p. 193.
used and abused to her advantage. Portugal similarly agreed to share her colonies with major Anglo-American capital.[32]
It was only with political independence that Africa could begin to revise and restructure these economic institutions which had so thoroughly integrated it, on disadvantageous terms, into the Western capitalistic economy.
As for national integration objectives, no institutional investments were more important than those involved in the administrative process. Although the administrators were relatively few in number, their advantages in skill, information, cohesion, and degree of organization enabled them to regulate the societies from the top. These bureaucratic officials had an access to human, material, and fiscal resources that far outstripped those of competing agencies. Moreover, the need for a continuous implementation of governmental policies and programs ensured that the central state machinery would remain a stable and relatively powerful organ on the African scene. And if this capacity for policy formulation, implementation, and control did not necessarily lead administrative officials to direct their attention specifically to the tasks of national unification, the symbolic effects of their activities were often integrative in their consequences.
Certainly their substantive contribution to national unity was also very real. The bureaucratic administrations, states S. N. Eisenstadt, "helped to maintain the framework of a unified polity as well as the capacity to absorb varied demands and to regulate them effectively. Not only were they important instruments for unification and centralization, but they enabled the rulers to implement continuous policy."[33] In performing state functions, these "efficient" agencies were compelled to take on a variety of economic and political responsibilities not assumed in the West, and, in doing so, created values and recurrent patterns of behavior which fostered national identity and solidarity.[34] Through such activities as tax collection, road building
[32] Amin "Underdevelopment and Dependence," p. 519.
[33] S. N. Eisenstadt, "Bureaucracy and Political Development," in Joseph LaPalombara (ed.), Bureaucracy and Political Development (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1963), p. 110.
[34] Samuel P. Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968), p. 12.
and maintenance, preservation of public order, health care, education, regulation of trade and industry, and so forth, the bureaucracy created a scaffolding within which interethnic cohesion could be promoted—or retarded (by an emphasis on local autonomy and separateness). In addition, the administrative arm also fostered national integration by recruiting and training what one author depicted as a "derivative middle class": an intermediary class consisting of clerks and technicians bridging the gap between the colonial elite and the African masses.[35] Many of these middle-level administrators were assigned to posts outside their area of origin and therefore developed a territory-wide, as opposed to a parochial, outlook. In James Coleman's estimation, the evolution of this strata of the population marked "the most important contribution of the British superstructure to the concept of Nigerian unity and to nationalism."[36]
Two related instrumentalities, the colonial police and the army, have made similar contributions to national integration outcomes. As was the case with the bureaucracy, both of these institutions were hierarchical, disciplined, and professional organizations. By maintaining law and order and enforcing administrative regulations, they were vital resources in the hands of alien authorities. For a relatively small investment, these coercive agencies ensured that a considerable measure of stability would prevail. The colonial police, a largely self-regulated organ distinctly paramilitary in character, provided an immediate line of defense against any disorderly or violent challenges to authority; in the event of an emergency, these police forces were supplemented by the army. Claude Welch's description of the colonial army is most apt:
The armies of colonial Africa were, in a sense, occupying forces. Characterized by complete subordination to the administration, they carried out administration by other means—not politics by other means, as Clausewitz suggested. Limited size, active distrust
[35] V. Subramaniam, "Ideology and Reality of Social Stratification in Zambia," a paper presented to the annual conference of the Canadian African Studies Association, Toronto, February 1975.
[36] James Coleman, Nigeria: Background to Nationalism (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1958), p. 50.
by the population of some territories, and an orientation toward internal control rather than external involvement (leaving aside the world wars) typified the military forces of the sub-Saharan area before independence. [37]
Again the police and army contribution to national integration was both substantive and symbolic. The police became involved in territory-wide activities as a result of the responsibilities assigned to them for deterring and preventing crime, disturbances, and riots. Although extensive duties were allocated to local and provincial law enforcement bodies, final responsibility for public security lay with the central state machinery. An integral part of the administrative arm, the police, backed up by the military when it was necessary, was a substructure in the larger colonial command mechanism within which a web of social relations could gradually emerge. "The police represent a potentially strong force for integration if they are organized on a national basis and if their personnel receive adequate training," Christian P. Potholm concludes in a statement as true of the past as of the present. He explains his reasons for reaching such a conclusion as follows:
The police are an in-place organization serving to link the elite at the polity's center with the masses at its periphery. Psychologically, they represent the governnnent, not only by providing some social stability and cohesion—but by their very presence. The police are likely to be most important in areas where the symbolic capability of the central government is weak precisely because they are so visible.[38]
Certainly their role in enforcing the law against all possible violators was not lost on the ethnic minorities of Nigeria, who looked to the central police force, as opposed to the subregional
[37] Claude Welch, "The Roots and Implications of Military Intervention," in Claude E. Welch, Jr. (ed.), Soldier and State in Africa (Evanston, Ill.: Northwestern University Press, 1970), pp. 8–9. Also see T. N. Tamuno, The Police in Modern Nigeria, 1861–1965 (Ibadan: Ibadan University Press, 1970), p. 38; and Robin Luckham, The Nigerian Military: A Sociological Analysis of Authority and Revolt, 1960–67 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1971), p. 231.
[38] Christian P. Potholm, "The Multiple Roles of The Police as Seen in The African Context," Journal of Developing Areas 3, no. 2 (January 1969): 146.
units, for an assurance of the right to full political participation in the life of the new country.[39]
Furthermore, the recruitment policies pursued by these organs of imperial coercion were to some extent transethnic in principle, even if sometimes divisive in effect. The colonial authorities, who tended to enlist policemen and soldiers disproportionately from among the various ethnic sections of each territory, did nonetheless create modernly trained forces consisting of many of the peoples included in each territory. The Nigerian police force of 1931 included 1,274 Ibos in a total force of 3,794, the remainder being drawn from the various ethnic peoples throughout the land.[40] Similarly, the African ranks of the Kenya police of 1930 overrepresented the Kamba (30 percent of the force) and the Kipsigis (6 percent) while underrepresenting the Kikuyu people (4 percent).[41] And in the Belgian Congo army of 1892–1914, the Force Publique recruited heavily from among such peoples as the Bangala, the Zande, and the Tetela.[42] 'Thus, even though not applying the principle
[39] Colonial Office, Nigeria: Report of the Commission Appointed to Enquire into the Fears of Minorities and the Means of Allaying Them, Cmnd. 505 (London: Her Majesty's Stationery Office, 1958), pp. 90–94. Also see Donald Rothchild, Safeguarding Nigeria's Minorities, reprint no. 17 (Duquesne University, Institute of African Affairs, 1964); and S. K. Panter-Brick and P. F. Dawson, "The Creation of New States in the North," in S. K. Panter-Brick (ed.), Nigerian Politics and Military Rule: Prelude to the Civil War (London: Athlone Press, for the Institute of Commonwealth Studies, 1970), p. 133.
[40] Tamuno, Police in Modern Nigeria, p. 174.
[41] The Kamba comprised 12 percent of the country's population, the Kipsigis, 3 percent, and the Kikuyu, 20 percent. James B. Wolf, "Asian and African Recruitment in the Kenya Police, 1920–1950," International Journal of African Historical Studies 6, no. 3 (1973): 411. Moreover, as of December 1961, statistics on African members in the Uganda police force showed an inclination to recruit such northern peoples as the Acholi (743 men) and to underrepresent such southern peoples as the Baganda (181 men). Apolo Robin Nsibambi, "Federalism in Uganda: Myth or Reality?" M. A. Thesis, University of Chicago, 1966, p. 111.
[42] For data on recruitment by provinces, see Thomas Turner, "Congo- Kinshasa," in Olorunsola, Politics of Cultural Sub-Nationalism (n. 13 above), p. 281. Of course, such recruitment policies fostered integration as long as all went smoothly; however, where disruption took place, those largely left out (the Baganda in Uganda) or those whosenumbers were severely reduced (the Lango in Uganda) felt the effects intensely, and hence the consequences were disintegrative.
of proportionality to their recruitment of the different ethnic groups into the ranks of the police and army, the colonial powers aided the integration process, both symbolically and substantively, by enlisting men from around the territory, assigning them to posts outside their region of birth, and creating modernist, centralized instrumentalities which imposed an outward shell of unity upon the disparate parts.
Another type of institution transmitted to Africa could boast some capacity for fostering national integration goals—the legislative organ of colonial times. Again these structures could be viewed as resources in the hands of imperial interests. Such structures enabled the external powers to permit a very limited and controlled form of local political participation to take place, thereby lending some credence to imperial claims of legitimate rule. The metropolitan powers convened legislative councils not in response to local African demands but in order "to satisfy their own principles and to obtain, in the central exercise of their power, as much local advice and opinion as could be evoked."[43] " The legislative body was less a check upon central initiative than a source of advice, information, and support. The territorial assembly of Chad, for example, was described as "a thoroughly docile body" in the late 1940s, a fact borne out by its decision in 1947 to maintain the double electoral college on the grounds of local African political inexpericncc.[44] Local acquiescence in the policies and programs of the executive councils ensured a quick and smooth passage of most legislation, making these bodies seem highly useful adjuncts of administrative power in the African context.
The legislative councils affected the national integration process largely through their enactments, their presentation of territory-wide concerns, their abilities to shape societal attitudes, and their symbolic capabilities. Although disproportionately
[43] Margery Perham, Introduction to Joan Wheare, The Nigerian Legislative Council (London: Faber and Faber, 1950), p. vii.
[44] Virginia Thompson and Richard Adloff, The Emerging States of French Equatorial Africa (Stanford: Stanford University Press: 1960), p. 431.
representative in a number of cases (for example, northern Nigeria lay outside the jurisdiction of the legislative council until 1946, and in settler-dominated Northern Rhodesia, it was not until 1938 that provision was made to have "Native" interests represented by a nominated unofficial member of the legislative council) and although divisive in their concern for communal as against general interests, these organs did advance linkage politics by organizing the society for common, territorial purposes. To the extent that they debated critical society-wide issues, they concentrated public attention upon the political process at the central level. And as African membership and participation in these bodies increased, learned patterns of reciprocity emerged and became accepted practice. Such political socialization, within the legislative organs as well as in the body politic more broadly, had obvious implications for territorial cohesiveness and for institutional survival once the colonial framework was dismantled.
A similar story can be told with regard to other institutions radiated from the metropolitan authorities to their African dependencies—executives, judiciaries, legal codes, economic structures, and so forth. All were transmitted, by direct fiat or indirect value diffusion, primarily to serve the needs of the occupying power. Thus Elliott P. Skinner notes with respect to Conseil de notables indigènes set up at four administrative centers in Upper Volta in the 1920s: "These councils failed primarily because they turned out to be organs of the French administration and in fact functioned as such, and because their members had varied and often conflicting status."[45] Since their contribution of such institutions to nation-building aims was essentially secondary, it is not surprising that they often provided only a marginal boost to the achievement of a shared sense of nationhood and the acceptance of norms, values, and practices conducive to the management of interethnic conflicts. But before turning to the way in which these structures were received by the independent African governments, it is important to take note of one set of institutions—political parties—which do not fall neatly into the above framework. Because
[45] Elliott P. Skinner, The Mossi of Upper Volta (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1964), p. 165.
these institutions were at times created by African nationalist leaders themselves to advance their struggle against European colonialism, they must be viewed as falling under a separate, adaptive category of part transfer, part imitation.
African political parties, as Thomas Hodgkin maintains, were "essentially products of a 'colonial situation'—in the sense of a situation in which an indigenous society is politically, economically, and culturally subordinate to a dominant European group. Parties have largely been built up around this issue: they have sought in one way or another to transform or modify this relationship of subordination and dominance between Africans and Europeans."[46] To be sure, a number of socio-political organizations preceded the modernist, party-led struggle against colonial control; quasi-political commercial and trading associations date back as far as the mid-1850s in Sierra Leone, where the largely African merchant interests brought effective pressure to bear on the colonial government to widen the range and extent of their economic opportunities.[47]
However, by the 1950s, the various quasi-political merchant associations, cultural societies, professional, cooperative, and trade union associations often passed on their explicitly partisan functions to the more broadly encompassing and nationalistic party structures. From this time forward, political parties, founded by middle-class men to wrest predominantly middle-class rights from the imperial powers, became the organizational weapons for compelling the sometimes reluctant colonial authorities to grant national self-government and independence. Thus Ahmed Sékou Touré, commenting on the Parti Démocratique de Guinée's incorporating role when spearheading the drive to compel France to hand over full power, declared, "There has not been a single factional movement. Not a single voice has been raised against the national consciousness and exigencies. . . . We approached the referendum in the most complete political unity."[48] Indeed, by rejecting the referendum
[46] Thomas Hodgkin, African Political Parties (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1961), p. 21.
[47] Martin Kilson, Political Change in a West African State (New York: Atheneum, 1969), p. 219.
[48] Ahmed Sékou Touré, Toward Full Re-Africanization (Paris:Presence Africaine, 1959), p. 11. Also see Sékou Touré's two volumes: The Doctrine and Methods of the Democratic Party of Guinea (Conakry: Democratic Party of Guinea, n.d.). Of course, to stress the significant role of national unity is in no way to detract from the vital place of party organization in the process of securing independence. As Kwame Nkrumah has stated: "The history of colonial liberation movements shows that the first essential thing is ORGANIZATION. Some may say 'unity' but unity presupposed organization." I Speak of Freedom (New York: Praeger, 1961), p. 18.
on the French Fifth Republic constitution with a 863,346 to 21,786 vote, the Guinean people left French authorities little choice but to fulfill their pledges on independence.
If African leaders took over and adapted an essentially Western institution for utilitarian purposes in their struggle against Western power, they were in part encouraged to take such a course by colonial administrative policies themselves. As James S. Coleman concludes:
The really decisive factor—the precipitant—in the formation of political parties has been constitutional reform providing for (1) the devolution by the imperial government of a sufficiently meaningful and attractive measure of power to induce or to provoke nationalist leaders to convert their movements into political parties and (2) the introduction or refinement of institutions and procedures, such as an electoral system, which would make it technically possible for parties to seek power constitutionally.[49]
Although more revolutionary-minded organizations have arisen, particularly in northern and southern Africa, and thereby have raised some qualifications as to the above description, it is no doubt generally true that African parties have evolved within the constitutional framework transferred to Africa by the colonial powers.[50] Therefore, party institutions, unlike those discussed before, can be seen to be the resultant of two sources of initiatives during the colonial period: the colonial authority (through its need for a counterpart leadership with which it
[49] James S. Coleman, "The Emergence of African Political Parties," in C. Grove Haines (ed.), Africa Today (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1955). pp. 234–35. (Italics in text.)
[50] Hodgkin, African Political Parties, p. 35. Also see the Introduction to James S. Coleman and Carl G. Rosberg, Jr. (eds.), Political Parties and National Integration in Tropical Africa (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1964), pp. 3–4.
could negotiate the terms for a transfer of power), and the African nationalist elite (through its need for an organizational instrument to wrest national independence from the hesitant colonial administration). Reciprocal needs in the particular time-place circumstances of colonialism led directly to establishment of a political structure instrumental in nature.
Because the modernist African elite played a highly significant role in forming and shaping the party organizations that were to compete with the colonizers for the right to rule, it is not surprising that such structures were to prove important integrative agencies, to the extent at least that a society-wide rather than a subregional or ethnic membership was linked together behind its banners. In mobilizing a broad-based constituency, the party of national salvation necessarily was widely inclusive in its political stratagems. As far as possible all main social, economic, and political interests were brought together in these nationwide movements—to do otherwise was to court the possibility of divide-and-rule colonial tactics in the present, and serious dissension in the future. Hence the nationalist leadership took especial pains to assure that membership and positions in the party reflected the territory's ethnic population. The "mass" party, organized along branch lines, proved particularly effective in uniting the various ethnic sections behind the party spokesmen. For the time being, a sense of common purpose and destiny prevailed. Such cohesiveness (or the appearance of cohesiveness) strengthened the bargaining capacity of the nationalist elite, leaving the colonial power little alternative but to turn over the reins of state to the people's acknowledged representatives. The impact of this change on the structures radiated by the colonial innovator was enormous, and will be examined in the succeeding sections.
African Impedance and Facilitation
Within a few years of the transfer of power, many of the institutions transmitted to Africa had undergone fundamental change. In some instances (e.g., the bureaucracy, the police, the military) the tendency was to strengthen institutional influence and functions; in others (e.g., federalism, constitutional protections, legislatures, multiparty systems, judiciaries) the trend was
the opposite—toward a weakening, even an abolition, of structures. Moreover, certain institutional arrangements were preserved in form but so altered in substance as to represent a transformation of values, purpose, and scope. The Westminster model, embracing an "energetic" executive among its attributes, was well adapted to meet the challenges to central authority burgeoning at the moment of decolonization; however, where this inner dynamism and flexibility of action was not accompanied by traditions of constitutionalism and behavioral restraints, there was every likelihood of a spillover of governmental activity into spheres not anticipated by the basic law.[51]
How is one to account for Africa's very diverse receptions to colonially radiated values and institutions? Surely a large part of the explanation lies in the modified circumstances accompanying independence. The dismantling of the alien-imposed superstructure meant an end to colonial administration-nationalist political reciprocity and the attendant need for institutions serving these ends. Election mechanisms, multiparty systems, federalism, and constitutional safeguards proved fragile as their functional usefulness declined in the new conditions of African statehood. The new governments did not always share the Western liberal view on the end-value of political pluralism or institutionalized conflict, and, determined to reduce decision costs, were inclined to downgrade institutions that seemed to threaten them with possible delays as well as leadership crises and turnovers.
Exogenous and endogenous imperatives therefore diverged about the time of decolonization, with noticeable effects on the process of institutional transference. For example, African independence, by exacerbating communal tensions over the distribution of political power and economic resources, required the
[51] Donald Rothchild, "On the Application of the Westminster Model to Ghana," Centennial Review no. 4 (Fall 1960): 468–69. For a similar process in Kenya, see his "Majimbo Schemes in Kenya and Uganda," in Jeffrey Butler and A. A. Castagno (eds.), Boston University Papers on Africa: Transition in African Politics (New York: Praeger, 1967), p. 294. Also see David E. Apter, Choice and The Politics of Allocation: A Developmental Theory (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1971), p. 130; and Dennis Austin, Politics in Ghana, 1946–1960 (London: Oxford University Press, 1964), pp. 324–25.
adoption of more forceful mechanisms for the regulation of conflict than had hitherto seemed necessary. Moreover, the new African regimes sought to achieve more in the way of national integration than did their predecessors. "The absence of disturbances is not a sufficient indication that authority exists," observed Aristide Zolberg; "a large proportion of the population must positively acknowledge its loyalty to the regime."[52] No longer would the implicit assumptions of authority suffice. The independent African governments sought to mobilize explicit society-wide support for themselves and their policies and, in carrying out these objectives, required specific instruments of regulation that would make up for any inadequacy in organization or procedure for managing intense social conflicts.[53] As a consequence, the new African leadership selected out and encouraged those externally radiated institutions and values deemed to be imperative to its needs, while discouraging others felt to be dysfunctional, or downright obstructive.[54] It gave support to structures and behavior patterns that bolstered central capacity for action over any dissident challenges. Coming virtually full circle, it sought a return to the low decision costs of the immediate past.
In the area of reception, three main factors facilitate the growth of structures transmitted under colonial aegis. These factors, which involve an enlargement of the institutional legacy, include historical continuity, functional roles, and elite preference. Irrespective of origins, these factors can act in certain circumstances to increase governmental capabilities of the African states as against the pressures emanating from the social environment.
[52] Aristide Zolberg, Creating Political Order (Chicago: Rand McNally, 1966), p. 40. Also see Morris Janowitz, The Military in the Political Development of New Nations (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1964), p. 26.
[53] Huntington, Political Order (n 34 above), pp. 194–96 and Myron Weiner, "Political Integration and Political Development," in Jason L. Finkle and Richard W. Gable (eds.), Political Development and Social Change 2nd ed. (New York: Wiley, 1971), p. 648.
[54] Ralph Braibanti, "The Relevance of Political Science to the Study of Underdeveloped Areas," in Ralph Braibanti and Joseph J. Spengler (eds.), Tradition, Values and Socio-Economic Development (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1961), p. 160.
Although a number of institutional changes occurred with independence, it is unwise to overlook the extent of the continuities that persisted. In this respect, it is useful to distinguish between institutional continuities as such and the values attaching to such institutions. A number of African governments have built upon the colonial legacies of international capitalism, despite their evident distaste for the values inhering in such a connection, in order to maintain access to capital, skilled cadres, technology, and markets resulting from such a relationship. Leaders in the Ivory Coast and Kenya, and to a lesser extent even some of those adopting more radical policy-making styles elsewhere on the continent, view such institutional continuities as necessary to their immediate goal of rapid economic growth. To be sure, the capitalist-oriented states do sponsor reforms of an incremental nature (i.e., Africanization, alterations in the tax laws, joint partnerships, even partial nationalization of the "commanding heights" of the economy), but they reject major structural changes in the inherited economic system so as to avoid a disruption of their valued connections with the former metropolitan power.[55] And having once decided to achieve growth objectives on the foundation of this tie to international capitalism, these reformist-oriented governments have little alternative but to build upon this institutional resource by pursuing policies aimed at bringing further overseas investments into their countries. Thus the maintenance of economic connections with these inherited institutions leads directly to policies that in turn facilitate new capitalist investment and Western-based technology transfer—furthering their dependence on the world economy.
In addition, African leaders had expanded the ability of such organs as executives and bureaucracies to formulate and implement policy.[56] They took full advantage of the previous
[55] Ann Seidman, Comparative Development Strategies in East Africa (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1972), pp. 57–59; Colin Leys, "Interpreting African Underdevelopment: Reflections on the ILO Report on Employment, Incomes and Equality in Kenya," African Affairs 72, no. 289 (October 1973): 419–29; and National Christian Council of Kenya, Who Controls Industry in Kenya? (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1968).
[56] Coleman and Rosberg, Political Parties and National Integration,p. 659; and David B. Abernethy, "Bureaucracy and Economic Development in Africa," African Review 1, no. 1 (March 1971): 93–95.
existence of such powerful, centralized agencies of policy-determination and regulation, and their innovations lay more in the area of recruitment and task expansion than in efforts at structural revision. Commenting on the continuing influence of "statist conceptions" in the style and content of Kenyan public administration, one author remarks that "it is scarcely surprising that the authoritarian character of earlier administration has left its impact on public attitudes and is especially evident in the social esteem and high status granted to officers of the post-independent provincial administration in Kenya today."[57] With a patrimonial type of leadership, marked by the shift from parliamentary to presidential systems, political elites inevitably relied upon, and therefore reinforced, whatever constant organizational elements promoted their ability to rule.
The values attaching to colonially radiated institutions also work for continuity with the past. Where institutions become accepted and desired by the politically relevant strata of the population, the public's behavior patterns frequently reflect the values associated with these structures. The Nigerian police force, committed in the mid-1960s to the support of the existing government, did not take an active part in planning the coup d'etats, as did their counterparts in Ghana. As one observer explains this phenomenon: "It is evident that despite the strains and stresses of the period October 1960–December 1965, the NPF remained faithful to the traditions inherited from its colonial past. A colonial police force, unlike the Metropolitan Police tradition, not only enforced law and order, prevented, detected and prosecuted crime but also maintained or supported the established government."[58] Similarly the universalistic criteria of merit and experience utilized by the Kenya civil service in appointing and promoting its officers is a colonially radiated value which perpetuated an inherited imbalance of
[57] Goran Hyden, "Basic Civil Service Characteristics," in Goran Hyden, Robert Jackson, and John Okumu (eds.), Development Administration: The Kenyan Experience (Nairobi: Oxford University Press, 1970), p. 6.
[58] Tamuno, Police in Modern Nigeria (n. 37 above), p. 287.
opportunities among the country's ethnic groups.[59] And the interplay of institution and values was also apparent in East African elite perceptions of the role of the national legislature. In accounting for the higher status Kenyans gave to parliamentary bodies than their neighbors in Tanzania and Uganda gave in the 1960s, one observer points to "a tradition of lively and frank debate" as the critical variable.
Whatever arguments are produced against two-party states, in terms of wastage of talent, encouragement of tribal or religious divisions and so on, one thing should be said to their credit: that they do breed a tradition of lively parliaments. If the country then moves into a one-party state system, this tradition may still survive—Kenya is giving evidence of this![60]
Other instances of value and structural continuity can be cited: the autonomy and impartiality of various higher court systems, the extensive authority exercised by many district and provincial officials, and the restraints on military interventions in certain African states.
Another factor facilitating an expansion of the institutional legacy is the increasing range of functional roles assigned to these structures. Such functions involve symbolic as well as substantive satisfactions; a constitution may be both symbolically significant (in terms of international respectability) and substantively significant (in terms of distributing authority among branches of government or the center and the sub-regions). However, it is in the material area that one has seen an enormous growth in institutional capabilities. Particularly among structures enhancing the authority of the various regimes—the bureaucracy, the military, and the police—expanded activities are quite noticeable. Not only have the public services taken on added responsibilities for defense, foreign affairs, and economic development, but they have swelled in size. In Kenya, the civil service has grown from 45,000 in 1955 to 63,000 in 1965 and 77,000 in 1969.[61] Similarly, such bureaucratically organized
[59] Donald Rothchild, "Ethnic Inequalities in Kenya," in Olorunsola, Politics of Cultural Sub-Nationalism, pp. 300–303.
[60] Clyde Sanger, "Tanzania's Presidential Commission Report," East Africa Journal 2, no. 3 (June 1965), p. 21.
[61] Hyden, p. 8.
institutions as the military and police forces have frequently expanded and modernized after independence. The strength of the Ghana police services rose from 10,458 in 1963 to 16,358 in 1970 (and an establishment authorized at 19,903 for the latter year).[62] And even though a buildup of the armed forces is especially evident in the countries which have undergone military coups (Uganda, Nigeria), the same trend is apparent in civilian-controlled Kenya, which established a navy and an air force to complement its much-strengthened army.[63]
But over and above these critical factors of historical continuity and functional roles is that of elite preferences, and the determination to put these preferences into effect. President Kenneth Kaunda's and Julius Nyerere's attempts to institutionalize party mechanisms, and President Jomo Kenyatta's and Mobutu Sese Seko's apparent preference for ruling through the governmental apparatus rather than the party organization are all separate and distinct leadership styles of great importance in terms of structural outcomes.[64] President Obote's reforms of the Uganda People's Congress Constitution in 1968 can be interpreted as an effort on his part to consolidate his authority through an emphasis on the party's role "as an integrating structure."[65] And President Leopold Senghor's unique decision, in August 1974, to facilitate the emergence of a new political party was prompted in part at least by a personal
[62] Republic of Ghana, Statistical Year Book, 1969–70 (Accra: Central Bureau of Statistics, 1973), p. 96.
[63] Republic of Kenya, Development Plan, 1966–1970 (Nairobi: Government Printer, 1966), pp. 347–48. On the expansion of the Uganda army to an estimated 12,000 or 16,000 men, see Peter Enahoro, "Whither Uganda," Africa, no. 16 (December 1972), p. 13. On the rise in Nigerian forces from an estimated 11,000 at the time of the first military takeover to over 200,000 at the end of the civil war, see John M. Ostheimer, Nigerian Politics (New York: Harper and Row, 1973), pp. 119–20. An even lower estimate of 8,000 men in the Nigerian army at the beginning of 1966 appears in Nigerian Opinion 2, no. 1 (January 1966): 2.
[64] Henry Bienen, Kenya: The Politics of Participation and Control (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1973), p. 80; and Jon Kraus, "On the Politics of Nationalism and Social Change in Ghana," Journal of Modern African Studies 7', no. 1 (April 1969): 116.
[65] Cherry Gertzel, "Leadership and Institution Building in Uganda," African Review, 2, no. 1 (June 1972): 183.
preference for open partisan conflict (elections in Senegal are scheduled for 1978). Thus the political preferences of the elite, combined with the necessary will to promote these preferences, are a vital element in the facilitation of certain structures. If leaders uniformly sought to increase organizational competence in order to deal more effectively with the demands of the environment, they differed markedly as to the particular emphases put upon political structures and functions in their countries.
Whereas the political elite facilitated the growth of institutions enhancing its ability to handle local demands, it acted simultaneously to reduce the burdens on government by resisting colonial legacies inhibiting its capacity to reach decisions, or to implement these decisions. Such a process of impedance entailed a resistance to colonial innovation to the extent that institutions were viewed as reducing central efficiency or distorting the economy in a structural manner. Institutions seen as fostering racial or class inequalities or undermining a policy of nonalignment between East and West (i.e., through links with the Western capitalist economy) or those hastily erected as limitations on majoritarian action in the terminal stages of imperial rule (i.e., constitutional limitations, subregionalism, federalism, legislative restraints, trade union autonomy, multiparty systems, and so forth) sometimes received short shrift from independent African regimes.
In their determination to achieve egalitarian and social welfare objectives, many regimes have attempted to remove various aspects of discrimination in employment opportunities and business management and ownership and, in the case of the more radically inclined states, to reduce disparities in income and wealth, to control Western-based corporate power, and, wherever possible, to curb the growth of an African capitalist class before it gains firm roots. Although Western technology is generally sought for its contribution to economic progress, African leaders legitimately chafe over the extremely high direct and indirect costs involved in these transfers of production processes.[66] " They are therefore enacting a number of laws and
[66] Surendra J. Patel, "The Technological Dependence of Developing Countries," Journal of Modern African Studies 12, no. 1 (March 1974): 9–13.
regulations on the importation of technology in an effort to reduce their growing dependence on Western know-how as well as to lessen the enormous fiscal burdens occasioned by this diffusion process. In addition to these efforts to hold down the direct and indirect costs of technology transfer are the extremely high costs of inappropriate technology. Because of relatively high labor costs in Western countries, their technology has tended to be capital-intensive in nature. But when these labor-saving mechanisms are exported to the Third World, with its heavy unemployment, the results may be extremely inefficient in terms of the utilization of scarce resources. A notable example of inexpedient technology emerges from a comparison of the Chinese-assisted Urafiki (Friendship) Textile Mill and the Mwanza Mill, both of Tanzania. These mills were set up at the same time and produce similar total outputs; but whereas Urafiki—which cost one-third less to construct, is African managed, and employs three thousand workers—makes a profit, capital-intensive Mwanza, which employs one thousand people and is largely expatriate-directed, shows losses.[67] Where technology is secured at such a heavy cost it naturally makes sense for the recipient to examine carefully, and in some cases to impede, the inflow of undesirable processes.
Anxious to remove any constraints placed on their initiative by the departing colonial power, the new African governments frequently sought to consolidate their political power by redefining or abolishing what they considered to be needless or undesirable limitations on their freedom of maneuver. Not surprisingly, in the heady environment of decolonization, a number of these restraining mechanisms proved brittle and ineffective when challenged by those who had just emerged, successful, from the struggle for national independence. Even though the departing colonial authority bears a good measure of responsibility for the fragility of some of the structures so hastily erected, two types of efficiency costs enter into the African decision to diminish those aspects of the colonial legacy undercutting (or seeming to undercut) the capacity for problem-solving.[68] First, the postindependence ruling elite felt
[67] Phil Raikes, "Tanzania Blazes Its Own Trail," African Development 7, no. 12 (December 1973): T15.
[68] On the failure of colonial rule to provide an effective classroomin democratic principles and practices, see Donald Rothchild, "Progress and the One- Party State," Transition 4, no. 10 (September 1963): 32.
itself unduly burdened by political institutions entailing high decision costs. The colonial authority had operated a command model until the terminal stages of its overlordship; now the African elite perceived itself to be saddled with bargaining encumbrances never placed upon the alien authorities. And they found these limitations as irksome in their implications of distrust as in their actual constraints on the exercise of political power. Consequently, they moved soon after independence to dismantle or reduce to ineffectiveness a number of the hastily erected structures dividing power. Such inherited institutions as federalism, bicameralism, multipartyism, and entrenched provisions of the constitution on amendments, ethnic representation, and the status and functions of subregional units were rendered ineffective. By diffusing or limiting the exercise of central authority, these structural arrangements raised decision costs, thereby compelling leaders to invest greater resources in the decision-making process than they were wont to do. It was in this sense that Ahmed Sékou Touré described two-party and multiparty systems as luxuries and argued for the adoption of single-party structures in Africa:
The old states which are economically and politically powerful, and socially and culturally developed can enjoy the luxury of divisions, it [a two-/or multi-party system] can only put a brake on their progress towards greater affluence. But if the young states which are politically and economically fragile, socially and culturally undeveloped were to prefer sterile division to productive unity, it would be a sign of lack of consciousness, proof that they were unable to consolidate the foundations of political and economic independence, and promote the rapid social and cultural advances of their people. In order to succeed, every collective undertaking must have unity of management, of action, of aims, one faith, one continuity, one discipline.[69]
This was recognized from the outset in the French-speaking African states. These countries built upon the inherited unitary tradition of metropolitan France to effect administrative and
[69] Ahmed Sékou Touré, The Doctrine and Methods of the Democratic Party of Guinea Part I (Conakry: Democratic Party of Guinea, n.d.), p. 52.
budgetary practices strengthening the central political organization at the expense of the parts. And where that central authority seemed challenged (as in the case of the Sanwi secessionist movement of 1959 in the Ivory Coast), these governments moved swiftly and decisively to end any threats to national integrity.[70] It was mainly in English-speaking or multilingual Africa that a federal type of solution seemed a realizable objective. In some of these lands subregional or minority ethnic groups and leaders saw in such structural forms the possibility for meaningful protections against what Ghana's K. A. Busia described as "political tyranny, . . . the personality cult and other totalitarian phenomena that tend to become manifest."[71] During the terminal stages of colonial administration, provisions for various federal types of arrangements were inserted into the basic laws of Ghana, Nigeria, Cameroun, Kenya, and Uganda, only to be dismantled, often quickly, once the new African governments assumed full authority (the Camerounian basic law remained in effect until the 1972 referendum, however). Federalism or quasi-federalism, contended many of these leaders following independence, was accepted reluctantly in order to speed progress toward national self-rule.[72] It was an act of expediency justified by the colonizer's penchant for divide-and-rule strategies. In insisting upon such rigid guarantees against majoritarian leadership, the Opposition, in Nkrumah's words, . . . "committed a rape on mother Ghana by forcing these Regional Assemblies upon the country."[73] Under such
[70] Aristide R. Zolberg, One-Party Government in the Ivory Coast (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1969), pp. 290–294.
[71] K. A. Busia, The Challenge of Africa (New York: Praeger, 1962), pp. 72–73.
[72] T. J. Mboya, "The Kenya Republic," Reporter 3, no. 122 (December 18, 1964): 18. On Uganda federalism, see Donald Rothchild and Michael Rogin, "Uganda," in Gwendolen M. Carter (ed.), National Unity and Regionalism in Eight African States (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1966), pp. 343–51, 370–79. For the Federal Republic of the Cameroun, see Jacques Benjamin, Les Camerounais Occidentaux: La Minorité dans un Etat Bicommunautaire (Montreal: Presse de l'Universite de Montreal 1972).
[73] Parliamentary Debates (Ghana), XII (November 3, 1958), col. 16.
circumstances, the postindependence governments deemed it reasonable to rectify the misdeeds of the immediate past by amending the constitution to "tone down" or abolish the subregional authorities.[74] Viewed as obstructions to strong central government and to the center's primary missions of national integration and economic development, these subregional authorities were soon jettisoned in favor of unitary systems. Africa's "energetic and impatient leaders" rejected the open conflict implicit in a bargaining relationship for the more dynamic leadership considered possible in a patrimonial ruling style.[75] These new governments refused to share power with subregional authorities, in part, at least, out of recognition that an increase in decisional costs would gravely complicate the achievement of pressing objectives. As Nkrumah summarized the feelings of many contemporaries: "Just at a time when a strong government is necessary, federalism introduces an element of paralysis into the machinery of State, and slows down the process of governmental action. We cannot afford this luxury in Africa."[76]
A second type of efficiency cost that gives African leaders cause to place constraints on institutions inherited from colonial times involves system credibility. Such credibility depends ultimately on the political system's ability to perform and to respond to public expectations.[77] And responsiveness is inextricably intertwined with the principle of proportionality among groups—both in political participation and in economic distribution. Where constitutional instruments tightly enclosed the sphere of majoritarian action, the legitimacy of the institutions themselves soon came into question. Thus the provisions
[74] Kanu statement, East African Standard (Nairobi), April 4, 1963, p. 5.
[75] R. C. Pratt, "The Future of Federalism in British Africa," Queen's Quarterly 67, no. 2 (Summer 1960): p. 200. Also see Chancellor Williams, "African Democracy and the Leadership Principle," Journal of Human Relations 8, nos. 3 & 4 (Spring and Summer, 1960): 827–28.
[76] Evening News (Accra), April 19, 1961, pp. 3–4.
[77] Karl W. Deutsch, "Social Mobilization and Political Development," American Political Science Review 55, no. 3 (September 1961): 501–2.
on amending the basic laws of Zambia and Kenya were viewed by the ruling elite as entrenched protections for the privileged few, not valid means of safeguarding the rights of minority peoples. In explaining Zambia's decision in June 1969 to hold a referendum on ending future referendums, Kaunda said: "We could not use the same old institutions used by an imperialist and colonialist power; they could not fit. . . . The times had changed, our industrial revolution could not be carried through without that Referendum."[78] Likewise, leaders of the Kenya African National Union chafed under the constraints of an independence constitution that required a 75 percent vote of approval in both houses (or a two-thirds majority in a referendum if one house did not endorse the change by the requisite majority) for an amendment to take effect. In 1965, the government secured the requisite majority) in both houses to bring about the passage of the Constitution of Kenya Amendment Bill reducing the necessary majority for constitutional amendments from 75 to 65 percent. Such a change would ensure that the Kenya constitution was more representative and more respected, argued the minister for economic planning and development, Tom Mboya, and would further the chances that the fundamental law would endure "without people feeling that it is an encroachment on the will of the majority."[79] Institutional transformation was essential, then, to assure credibility; intergroup power imbalances could not have been allowed to persist in their inherited form, for in majority eyes they constituted what Mboya described as "burdens" upon democratically oriented governmental action.[80]
Efficiency costs involving decision-making and system credibility led rulers to modify—even abolish—certain colonially radiated institutional mechanisms. The consequence of
[78] Take up the Challenge . . ., speeches by Dr. K. D. Kaunda to the United National Independence Party National Council, Lusaka, 7–10 November 1970 (Lusaka: Zambia Information Services, n.d.), p. 6.
[79] House of Representatives Debates (Kenya), IV (April 20, 1965), col. 1260.
[80] Loc. cit. Also see Y. P. Ghai and J. P. W. B. McAuslan, Public Law and Political Change in Kenya (Nairobi: Oxford University Press, 1970), p. 213.
this process of impedance was to enhance the personal authority of elites at the expense, in some instances, of institutional vigor. Such structures as legislatures, trade unions, corporations, universities, party factions, and the press often found themselves limited in terms of autonomy and freedom of action. They were denied the capacity for effective conflict behavior; for leaders sought to contain conflict to the inner sanctums of the executive rather than to regularize a direct encounter of interest groups. Kaunda, for example, found a public airing in the press of conflicts among chiefs to be "disgusting" and stated: "From now on, I do not want news media to concentrate on crime, conflicts, outrage or failures as staple food for dishing out to the masses of news consumers."[81] Further evidences of a closed conflict strategy in Zambia were the abhorrence shown toward factional interests within the United National Independence Party following the 1967 elections; [82] precautions against internal factionalism at subsequent party conferences;[83] the rapid rotation of high government officials;[84] the outlawing in April 1971 of two ethnic political groupings (the predomonantly Bemba Committee of 24 and the non-Bemba Committee of 14); the insistence that rival modernist elements such as the university students and the police in July 1971, "leave things to me" (Kaunda);[85] the decision in
[81] Times of Zambia (Ndola), August 2, 1972, p. 1.
[82] A Path for the Future, an address by Dr. Kaunda at the Opening of the Sixth General Conference of the United National Independence Party, Mulungushi, 8 May 1971, p. 10. Also see Kaunda's warning against party "deviationists" in Take up the Challenge . . ., p. 55.
[83] For references to possible "stage-managing" of the 1971 Mulungushi Conference, see Sunday Times of Zambia (Ndola), May 16, 1971, p. 1. Also, the constitution of UNIP was changed at the conference to give the Central Committee great powers in nominating the secretary-general and future membership of that committee as voted on by the General Conference of the party. See Constitution of the United National Independence Party, Zambia, 1971, Art. 6(3). (Mimeo.)
[84] Among those who have commented on this as an indication of Kaunda's "adroitness" in dealing with ethnic contests within his cabinet, see Richard Hall, The High Price of Principles: Kaunda and the White South (New York: Africana Publishing Corp., 1969), p. 50.
[85] Times of Zambia (Ndola), July 10, 1971, p. 1. For a description of the confrontation, see Donald Rothchild, "The Beginning of Student Unrest in Zambia," Transition , no. 40 (December 1971), pp. 66–74.
late 1972 to implement the report on the establishment of a one-party participatory democracy;[86] and, finally, the statement in 1976 that if "Marxist" lecturers were not with him, they should keep quiet.[87] With the passing of the years, the processes of Zambian decision-making have become less and less visible, with increasing power passing from cabinet hands to those of the office of president. Moreover, the trend of the times was highlighted in February 1971 by the issuance of a seven-point code of behavior which put a total ban on open political conflict, inside or outside of parliament, between cabinet ministers, ministers of state, district governors, and members of parliament. Henceforth only parliamentary backbenchers would be permitted to raise questions of policy.[88] For some, this code of behavior was tantamount to a "muzzle" on the free expression of differences. Contending that those in high governmental positions "will sleep soundly for the first time in many months" (as a result of their freedom from parliamentary criticism), a correspondent for the Sunday Times of Zambia observed:
No more will their every action be questioned by some MP from Mwinilunga who travels all the way to Lusaka just to present his constituents' grievances to Parliament. No more will they have to face embarassing questions from some of the most erudite Government MPs on why they allowed this or that to happen in a certain area in the remotest part of the country.
It will be a bed of roses for them, to some extent. But what will it do to politics in Zambia? Is this not the death of politics in this part of the world?[89]
Such fears were premature. As the student-police-UNIP confrontation of 1971 and the subsequent student demonstrations
[86] Remarking on the move to a one-party state in Zambia, Dr. Kaunda said that strict discipline would be needed to ensure a more rapid achievment of national objectives. Times of Zambia (Ndola), August 4, 1972, p. 1. Also see Republic of Zambia, Report of the National Commission on the Establishment of a One-Party Participatory Democracy in Zambia (Lusaka: Government Printer, 1972), pp. 52–53.
[87] Weekly Review (Nairobi), no. 54 (February 23, 1976), p. 15.
[88] Times of Zambia (Ndola), February 17, 1971, p. 1.
[89] Sunday Times of Zambia (Ndola), February 21, 1971, p. 1. Also see Vice-President Mainza Chona's reply in Times of Zambia (Ndola), February 25, 1971, p. 4.
of 1976 revealed so clearly, conflicts among modernist interest groups remained just beneath the surface and, given adequate cause, might burst suddenly into view. Nevertheless, the code of behavior did suggest the emergence of a style of politics which attempted to delimit the boundaries of conflict in order to keep it to manageable proportions. Such an approach, utilized in East Africa as well as in Zambia, may temporarily keep interest group struggles from the public view. But it remains to be seen whether it can contain conflict over the long term, and should such conflict take place, whether regularized patterns of behavior will come to the fore enabling men to cope with their feelings of difference. Ali A. Mazrui's remarks on the functions of criticism are pertinent:
African governments often go to great lengths to avert the appearance of dissension in the country and to try and eliminate every risk of serious conflict either between groups or between the state itself and some groups.
What is overlooked is that there is such a thing as an artificial "absence of conflict." National integration does not consist merely in being forced to smile sweetly at each other.[90]
The desire to reduce conflict leads not only to institutional modifications but to the elimination of structures as well. The latter process differs mainly in degree, involving a more drastic effort on the part of those in authority to root out autonomous centers around which group interests might form. Thus the casting aside of such inherited institutions as second chambers, federal types of systems, constitutional safeguards, two-party and multiparty structures, and, in some cases, legislative organs brings the effort to regulate conflict to its logical conclusion. Obviously, few leaders seriously hope for a complete exclusion of competing interests through the dismantling of these structures; what they seek is a channeling of discordant and factious behavior along controllable avenues. Federal types of arrangements carried with them the likelihood of autonomous spheres for the expression of subregionally based demands; hence the desire to eliminate the structures facilitating the input of demands into the political system. The process of impedance,
[90] Ali A. Mazrui, "National Unity and the Press," People (Kampala), November 12, 1966, p. 10.
then, was geared to the perceived need for centralized action and the reduction of inherited structural constraints on such action.
The Acculturated Mutants
Since relatively high decision costs were associated with certain colonially radiated institutions, it is not surprising to find the new African governments taking steps to modify them following the transfer of power. The resulting acculturated mutants were institutions brought in line with local values—on the reduction of conflict, the maintenance of low decision costs, and the concentration of political and economic authority. The advantages of continuity were recognized, while structures were altered so as to deal with the perceived strains of the environment. Such innovations represented "the learning responses of the system".[91] Changes in the environment caused leaders to apply new institutional mechanisms to achieve the state-building goals they set for themselves.
In transforming their colonial legacies, African leaders were notable in their creativity and realism. They redesigned regional-central relationships, economic institutions, election systems, and interest group and political party mechanisms and other structural arrangements in order to serve decision, integrative, and developmental ends. Thus, as colonial experiments with tensional federalism tended to break down in the years following independence, it became necessary for statesmen to find new approaches to the problem of administrative decentralization—something more along the lines of cooperative federalism. On the one hand, subregional and ethnic inequalities have remained in evidence, and the spokesmen for these units have continued to urge a decentralization of economic and political responsibilities; not only might such decentralization spread and equalize opportunity but it might infuse enthusiasm for centrally inspired developmental objectives, thereby reducing the costs of decisions, to some extent at least. On the other hand, classical, and rather legalistic, federal formulas have
[91] Deutsch, Nerves of Government ( n. 1 above), p. 243.
proven difficult to apply to African needs and circumstances. Consequently, the adoption of some form of African-inspired system of reconciliation seems possible in the period to come.
At the moment two large African polities appear to be likely candidates for some type of federal experimentation in the future—Nigeria and the Sudan. We do not include such recently manipulated forms of decentralization as the Bantustans of South Africa in this regard, for the dominant role of the European community precludes the kind of power-sharing essential to a consociational arrangement.
In Nigeria, the new nineteen-state, federal structure has come into effect and, with the expected return to civilian control in the late 1970s, will likely emerge as an important feature in the country's evolving political institutionalization. Not surprisingly, federalism is a logical response to the country's social pluralism. The independence constitution, hammered out by Nigerian leaders under the aegis of British colonial officials, reflected the main configurations of power in the country at that time. The constitution assigned the federal government exclusive power over such matters as external affairs, defense, posts, telegraphs, railways, trunk roads, and so forth; such items as census, industrial development, labor, tourism, water power, scientific research, and traffic on federal trunk roads were placed on a concurrent list; and the remainder was left to subregional initiative. The federal government possessed exclusive power to impose excise duties as well as taxes on imports and exports, corporation profits, and mining rents and royalties. Because the only subregional taxes of significance were on individual incomes, produce, and motor vehicles, the subregional treasuries were left dependent on federal grants for two-thirds of their recurrent revenues. In brief, Nigeria's independence constitution combined centralized finance and taxing authority with decentralized administrative responsibility.
During 1964 and 1965 the pressures on a fragile federal arrangement grew steadily. In addition to the immediate crises over the general strike, the census counts, the federal election, and the Western Region election (with its ensuing lawlessness and disillusionment), the longer-term issues of minority ethnic representation, political corruption, the subregions' lack of fiscal independence, and the appeals of concentrated and effec-
tive leadership all worked against a smoothly operating consociational relationship. The end came abruptly in January 1966. On January 15, a group of young army officers seized power from the established politicians and turned over the authority of the state to Major-General Aguiyi-Ironsi. In reaction to the Ironsi regime's attempt in early 1966 to centralize the structure of government, a follow-up coup occurred in July 1966, which accepted the need for some form of federalism as the basis of Nigerian unity.
The new government, under Major-General Yakuba Gowon, responded to the challenge of Nigerian pluralism by investing the subregional military governors with the same legislative and executive powers held by the subregions before the first military coup (Decree No. 8 of 1967). Although the head of the federal military government retained broad powers to consent to decrees, Decree No. 8 went a long way toward reestablishing a federal structure in Nigeria. Further shape was given to Nigerian constitutionalism two months later when, in an effort to break up the constellations of power in the old units, the Gowon regime put another decree into effect, creating a twelve-state system. In this one move, Gowon sought to remove former fears of domination and to end the structural imblance that had long plagued the Nigerian Federation. Subsequently, General Murtala Mohammed announced a further expansion of Nigeria's twelve-state structure to nineteen; however, because of his assassination, it fell to his successor, Lieutenant-General Olusegun Obasanjo, to promulgate a decree in March 1976 putting this change into effect.
Certainly it is too early to predict whether constitutional stability will result from the Federal Military Government's experiments with a federal type of government. The Constituent Assembly is yet to meet, and the conflicts over revenue allocation, division of power, intergovernmental relations, and the creation of new states remain just beneath the surface. Nevertheless, Nigerians have reasons for hope: a healthy economy, broad political experience, common aspirations, and a joint interest in constitutional stability. In light of all these assets, a move from de facto to de jure federalism may not be far off.
The 1972 Addis Ababa Agreement on the problems of the
south Sudan, which brought an end to sixteen years of warfare between Sudanese government and Anya Nya (literally "snake venom") forces, achieved a temporary resolution of conflict through the establishment of a structure of subregional autonomy. Although southern delegates to the peace negotiations pressed for formal "federation," they utlimately accepted a locally inspired scheme devolving limited powers upon the self-governing Southern Region (including Bahr El Ghazal, Equatoria, and Upper Nile Provinces), "In constitutional terms" declared Ralph Uwechue, "what was achieved is a kind of confederation, which is what the Sudan needs. No complete breakup, but no suffocating form of unity."[92] Under such circumstances, the quasi-federal institutions adopted in the Sudan represented a realistic innovation—both ingenious and responsible.
For good and sound reasons the Addis agreement was hailed by observers as a creative example of conflict management in Africa. It eased tensions between the north and the south by providing for a decentralized system of government in the country. Although the central government retained responsibility over such areas as national defense, external affairs, currency and coinage, air and interregional river transportation, communications and telecommunications, customs and international trade, nationality and immigration, economic and social planning, and public audit, the Peoples Regional Assembly was given a broad mandate under Article II to "legislate for the preservation of public order, internal security, efficient administration and the development of the Southern Region in cultural, economic and social fields." Furthermore, the agreement provided that southerners would be recruited into the armed forces in proportion to the populations in the subregions, and that the Peoples Armed Forces in the south would consist of a national corps composed of 12,000 officers and men, of whom 6,000 would be citizens of the Southern Region. In sociological terms, a consociational system was established, for the power of the state was distributed among various governments, each competent in a limited sphere of activities.
[92] "A Fine Example," Grass Curtain 2, no. 3 (May 1972), p. 6.
In fact, the agreement has represented a cautious beginning in reconciliation. President Jaafar el Nimeiry granted amnesty to all who took part in the civil war; authorized the recruitment and training of 6,000 former Anya Nya soldiers into the army, 3,000 into the police, and 2,000 into the prison administration; appointed the former Anya Nya commander, Joseph Lago, a major-general in the army; held elections to the Peoples Assembly in the Southern Region in November 1973; set up a subregional cabinet under Vice-President Abel Alier in Juba; and encouraged the return of most of the 200,000 refugees who had fled to neighboring countries. Nevertheless, a number of factors raise concern as to the future of power-sharing in the Sudan. On the one hand, determined elements in the north, in particular, the Muslim Brothers, continue to oppose any significant concessions to the Southern Region; on the other hand, it remains unclear whether southern leaders can gain sufficient political power and fiscal resources to ensure a sense of local fulfillment under the arrangement. Khartoum's bureaucratic inertia in expediting needed development funds has raised serious questions among southerners as to the meaning of the Addis Accord. A look at the budgetary allocations from 1973–74 to 1975–76 goes far in substantiating such misgivings. During these periods, the central contribution to the subregion has remained at approximately 5 percent, giving rise to a sense of frustration in the Juba administration and the subregion as a whole. Nevertheless, these concerns should not be overemphasized, and there is reason to hope that a temporary institutional framework will in due course be transformed into a stable and satisfactory relationship.
As for institutional experimentation in the method of electing members to parliament, a novel proposal was advanced by President Obote of Uganda as part of his grand strategy on moving to the left. His Document No. 5, described by a political analyst as one of the most challenging political experiments to have been seriously considered anywhere in Africa,"[93] sought to encourage the process of national integration by requiring that a candidate for a seat in parliament gain the highest
[93] Ali A. Mazrui, Cultural Engineering and Nation-building in East Africa (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1972), p. 70.
number of electoral votes in the region of his basic constituency and three regions outside the region of the basic constituency, all combined.[94] The central purpose behind this provision was "to produce a new brand of leadership" that would link an MP's home area to the rest of the country.[95] " The institution of the national election was made into a more forceful vehicle of interethnic exchange. "During the life of the present Parliament," Obote contended,
anyone who cared to observe must have noticed that whether at District or National level, leaders, unless forced by the call of duty, have continued to do more political activities in their home areas than anywhere else in Uganda. This tendency could grow to such an extent that leaders become increasingly tied up, not to the people of Uganda as such, but to a section of the community which each leader might call "my people." It is for this reason that new methods must be introduced for the election of the President and Members of the National Assembly. Such measures should ensure that in the case of the President the people of Uganda as a whole have an effective say in his election, and in the case of a Member of the National Assembly, a cross-section of the people in all the four Regions of Uganda should have an effective say.[96]
The modification of institutions to achieve various state-building goals also emerges from a related effort to create democratic one-party structures in the eastern African countries. Under Tanzanian and Zambian circumstances, such party systems are acculturated mutants which involve a transformation of existing institutions to secure the more urgently soughtafter postindependence objectives of low decision cost, national integration, and development. In these lands, the Opposition parties were not in a position to perform their functions as effective checks on majoritarian usurpation of power—and as alternative governments. All too often Opposition parties drew their support from divisive tribal or racial appeals, rather than from the submission of constructive, alternative policies. Consequently, it came as no surprise when, in January 1964, Julius
[94] A. Milton Obote, Proposals for New Methods of Election Representatives of the People to Parliament (Kampala: Uganda People's Congress, 1970), pp. 20–23.
[95] Ibid., p. 6.
[96] Ibid., pp. 10–11.
Nyerere announced the appointment of a presidential commission to consider the constitutional changes necessary to put a "democratic" one-party state into effect. Tanzania's decision to move from a de facto to a de jure single-party structure was final; all that remained for the members of the presidential commission charged with implementing this policy was to make recommendations on guaranteeing such principles as the rule of law, citizen equality, political freedom, and maximum public participation within the single-party framework.[97] Similarly in Zambia, the appeals of a formalized one-party state structure surmounted the lingering attachment to British constitutional ties, and a restructuring process took place which led to the establishment of "participatory democracy" within a de jure single-party system.[98] In African eyes, the role of the party would have to be reformulated in order to enable ruling elites to deal more effectively with the challenges of postindependence times. Parties would have to perform unifying and mobilizing functions, not conflict-making ones. A one-party democracy, argued Mainza Chona, Zambia's vice-president, will create better conditions for economic development as well as "minimize political tensions" in the country.[99] Through its inclusiveness, one-party advocates sought to rise above the negative aspects of factionalism. "A National Movement which is open to all—which is identified with the whole nation—has nothing to fear from the discontent of any excluded section of society, for there is then no such section."[100] Institutional change was necessary, therefore, to channel the strains coming from the environment into the most manageable of directions.
The restructuring of the party system had a spillover effect upon other institutions as well. The Tanganyika African National Union, freed from the need to compete for the control
[97] The United Republic of Tanzania, Report of the Presidential Commission on the Establishment of a Democratic One-Party State (Dar es Salaam: Government Printer, 1965), p. 2.
[98] Republic of Zambia, Report of the National Commission on the Establishment of a One-Party Participatory Democracy in Zambia (Lusaka: Government Printer, 1972).
[99] Times of Zambia (Ndola),July 7, 1972, p. 1.
[100] Julius K. Nyerere, Democracy and the Party System (Dar es Salaam: Tanganyika Standard Ltd., n.d.), p. 25.
of the executive or legislative branches, built an element of conflict into the election process by providing that two candidates, selected by district and national party organs, would run for positions in the National Assembly in the various constituencies. Although a considerable turnover of personnel did occur with successive elections under this new one-party voting system, the extent to which it had an integrative or mobilizational impact remained less than clear. Thus despite the apparent concentration of power in central party hands, two political scientists, when analyzing the 1970 general election, stressed the public's continuing tendency to choose a local patron who would do the most for his constituents in the way of securing resources from government. The Tanzanian member of parliament was still regarded as a delegate of the people, and the government as an indispensable patron with a monopoly of control over resources.[101]
In addition, although less dramatically, the one-party state structure also affected interest groups, trade unions, the press, the civil service and military establishment, youth's and women's brigades, universities, and the legal system. In the large, the move to a de jure single-party structure presaged a general effort on the part of the leaders to reduce decision costs and to tighten central control over all aspects of life in the country. Not only was their role to be changed to ensure the fulfillment of the government's state-building purposes, but these interests were to be regulated and incorporated to preclude divisive tendencies. Soon after independence, authorities in Guinea and Mali replaced the coordinating structures for youth affairs with a new administrative apparatus under the control of a government ministry.[102] And in Ghana, the
[101] Goran Hyden and Colin Leys, "Elections and Politics in Single-Party Systems: The Case of Kenya and Tanzania," British Journal of Political Science (1972): 419. Also see Lionel Cliffe (ed.), One Party Democracy: The 1965 Tanzania General Elections (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1967), Part III; and Henry Bienen, Tanzania: Party Transformation and Economic Development, expanded edition (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1970), chap. 12.
[102] Immanuel Wallerstein, "The Decline of the Party in Single-Party African States," in Joseph LaPalombara and Myron Weiner (eds.), Political Parties and Political Development (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1966), pp. 209, 213.
Nkrumah regime took active measures to place restrictions on the labor movement's autonomous sphere of activity. Thus the popular secretary-general of the Trades Union Congress, John K. Tettegah, was downgraded in 1962, and Kwaw Ampah, a man more subservient to CPP wishes, was appointed over him in the capacity of TUC national secretary. Subsequently the Nkrumah government acted to reduce the number of national unions from sixteen to ten and to increase the authority of the chief labor officer to certify unions, upon the advice of the minister of labor, as exclusive bargaining agents.[103] The one-party structure recognized the necessity of participation but sought to direct public energies toward politically sanctioned outlets. Groups that selfishly competed in the marketplace for special interests were considered destructive of the general good—and properly channeled and regulated.[104]
Although the single-party structure generally entails a tightening of control over the society at large, it has, in African circumstances, accommodated the creation of new institutional forms allowing for an input of interest group demands into the political system. In the Ivory Coast, for example, demonstrations by students and unemployed youths in 1968 and 1969 led directly to a presidential decision to engage in formal dialogues, first with students and middle-level cadres and then with such occupation groups as transporters, tenants, and so forth. In 1969, President Houphouet-Boigny held thirty-three dialogue sessions which resulted in a variety of marginal reforms affecting rates of indigenization of posts, land distribution, salary increases, and the cost of urban rentals. The successful nature of these encounters also led to governmental recognition of more than forty of these interest group organizations, thereby enabling urban and transethnic associations to gain a special means of access to the country's policy-makers. Michael A. Cohen notes the extent to which these interest group encounters with the president represented a genuine form of structural mutation in
[103] Ukandi Godwin Damachi, The Role of Trade Unions in the Development Process (New York: Praeger, 1974), pp. 50–56.
[104] See an editorial in the Nationalist (Dar es Salaam), November 4, 1970, p. 4, for a typical expression of resentment toward group (in this case, staff association) efforts to advance particular interests as against those of the community as a whole.
the following observation: "While the dialogue process contained many traditional African symbols, it more importantly represented a break with the past: Groups were recognized and represented in nonethnic interest terms. The secretary-general of the tenants union spoke for the city-wide union which had branches in each of the eight major quarters."[105] In a dynamic and changing environment, then, these novel institutional forms represented an important resource for solving a number of the problems of political and economic development.
In the economic sphere, Tanzania's attempts to eliminate structural distortions in the inherited economy led to the generation of new institutional arrangements aimed at bringing together the egalitarian, socialist, and self-reliant policies of the Nyerere administration. Following the promulgation of the Arusha Declaration in 1967, a number of large corporate enterprises in the banking, insurance, wholesale trade, and food-processing fields were nationalized by the government and, over time, land farmed privately on the basis of ninety-nine-year leases was nationalized by government action. Thus in 1973, fifty individually or corporately owned farms on the southern slopes of Mount Kilimanjaro were taken over by the government, with compensation for equipment, animals, and housing, for use by extended families and cooperative groups.[106] In place of the colonially radiated instruments of private enterprise, a number of new structural organs emerged—parastatal organizations, cooperatives, a State Trading Corporation, and so forth. Perhaps no economic instrument is more expressive of modern Tanzania's innovative spirit than the Ujamaa Village. In a description of the trend in recent times as "away from extended family production and social unity, and towards the development of a class system in the rural areas,"[107]Ujamaa
[105] Michael A. Cohen, "Urban Policy and the Decline of the Machine: Cross-Ethnic Politics in the Ivory Coast,' Journal of Developing Areas 8, no. 2 (January 1974): 231. Also see his book, Urban Policy and Political Conflict in Africa: A Study of the Ivory Coast (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1974), chaps. 5 and 6.
[106] Judith Listowel, "Nyerere Socialism Comes to Kilimanjaro," Times (London), November 13, 1973, p. 9.
[107] The United Republic of Tanzania, Tanzania Second Five-Year Plan for Economic and Social Development, 1st July, 1969–30th June, 1974, vol. I (Dar es Salaam: Government Printer, 1969), p. 26.
Vijijini is depicted as a means of reversing this process of disaggregation:
By building on the principles of the traditional extended family system, with its emphasis on co-operation and mutual respect and responsibility, a society will be built in which all members have equal rights and equal opportunities, when there is no exploitation of man by man, and where all have a gradually increasing level of material welfare before any individual lives in luxury. The objective is to farm the village land collectively with modern techniques of production, and share the proceeds according to the work contributed.[108]
By consciously reconciling the principles of the traditional extended-family system with modern farming techniques, Tanzanians have created an important example of an acculturated mutant in the economic sphere.
Conclusion
The transformation of African political structures has largely been in response to the ruling elite's determination to utilize institutions as resources for coping with such problems as national integration and economic development. Colonial administrators, lacking a sense of urgency regarding these goals, used the power at their disposal to widen the arena of social interaction without doing enough to foster the learned patterns of relationship necessary for broad participation in the economic and political institutions newly transmitted to Africa. For example, in attempting to control interethnic conflict and at the same time minimize the costs of overrule, colonial officials radiated structures to the African territories oriented more toward control than toward the promotion of intersectional exchange. Even though interethnic contacts may be said to have increased in colonial times, low institutional invest-
[108] Ibid. In 1973, one observer estimated that Tanzania had nearly 5,000 Ujamaa Villages or collective settlements in operation. G. L. Cunningham, "Peasants and Rural Development in Tanzania," Africa Today 20, no. 4 (Fall 1973): 17. Concern over the accuracy of such estimates appears in Jonathan S. Barker, "Ujamaa in Cash-Crop Areas of Tanzania: Some Problems and Reflections," Journal of African Studies 1, no. 4 (Winter 1974): pp. 441–42.
ments did entail something of a lost opportunity for the furtherance of group practices of compromise and reconciliation.
The colonial officers acted as agents of innovation in transmitting structures, values, and technology to Africa. Their capacity to induce institutional change was enhanced by the resources and organization at their disposal. By imposing a bureaucratic "command model" upon the territories under their control, these colonial officials were, as a consequence of their situation of low decisional costs, in a position to take effective action in radiating additional structural arrangements abroad. The colonial administrators used this power to transmit a variety of supportive structures: legislative councils, universities, trade unions, corporations, political parties, elections, and so forth. The impact of these efforts, in terms of economic development and national integration goals, was varied, but nonetheless significant. Both goals received a psychological as well as a material boost from such central governmental instrumentalities as the bureaucracy, the police, and the military. Yet even though transethnic in principle, these colonially radiated institutions were sometimes divisive in their effects, for they heightened the struggle over political power and the allocation of resources among communal interests.
Whether by fiat or value diffusion, institutions were transmitted by colonial administrators to Africa to enhance their capacity for extraction and efficient rule. Colonially radiated structures were essentially resources at the disposal of administrative elites; even so, such origins neither precluded reciprocity between rulers and ruled nor the possibility of transformation, and subsequent legitimation. Later, in the circumstances surrounding the transfer of power to African hands, it was only natural that institutional legacies would be modified or eliminated to further the ends of the new political elite. Consequently, those externally radiated institutions bolstering the center's capacity for action were strengthened (a process of facilitation) while those thwarting effective leadership were downgraded or terminated (a process of impedance). Considerable structural continuity did in fact remain in evidence, and the adjustments that were made in the way of local recruitment
or task expansion acted mainly to augment the basic position which these colonially radiated institutions held in the life of these countries.
Where the inherited institutions became the cause of high decision costs following decolonization, however, the political elite acted to reduce these perceived burdens, either by closing them out or by transforming them in a fundamental manner. The new leaders quickly knocked down some of the legacies erected in the final days of colonial rule (federalism, subregionalism, certain entrenched provisions in the constitutions, second chambers). Such structures impeded effective decisional capacity and control and raised doubts about the credibility of the economic and political system; in addition, they increased the burdens on leaders by creating autonomous centers around which sectional interests might form and engage in conflictive behavior. Hence, a process of resistance to colonial innovation emerged following decolonization, which led ultimately, in some instances, to an abolition of these sources of economic distortion and constraint upon centralized action.
The high decision costs of certain colonially radiated institutions also contributed to the African effort to transform them in a basic manner. Where an abolition of structures proved impractical, the alternative course of action was to create acculturated mutants. As African leaders changed economic patterns, party systems, election mechanisms, intergovernmental relations, interest group access, and bureaucratic values to bring them in line with new attitudes and objectives, these policy makers emerged as the new agents of innovation. A striking example of innovation in the economic sphere was the creation of Ujamaa Villages—an experiment which explicitly sought to bring together the principles of the traditional family system and modern farming techniques. Moreover, at times structural forms were kept intact while being altered fundamentally in substance. Thus one-party state structures and electoral mechanisms preserved, even encouraged, participation and choice, but they made demands more manageable by concentrating political authority and reducing the dimensions of conflict; a conscious effort was made to go from the controlling of
interethnic encounters to the promotion of exchange relationships. Although it is too early to appraise the outcome of African innovations in this regard, a movement toward a learned pattern of interrelationships among such groups would certainly represent a positive unfolding in the dialectical interaction between institutions and social forces.
Chapter 3—
System Goals, Decision-Making Rules, and Collective Choices
Our previous chapters focus on a political economy approach to decision-making by public authorities. In deciding on public policies, these officials make use of changing institutional resources in order to cope with resource scarcity. It is now appropriate to turn to the patterns of choice within the context of such scarcity. A number of questions will be raised: What collective goals can be identified generally as common to the African scene? What factors (information, values, beliefs, analytic capacity, and bureaucratic organization) condition governmental decision-making? What decision rules have leaders set for themselves in determining choices? What types of strategy of choice have different leadership elites arrived at in mobilizing and allocating scarce resources? And finally, what are the effects of the selection of these strategies? In our view, desirable choices are those that expand alternatives: they provide relatively more resources, and they lead to the allocation of given resources efficiently and to the distribution of output equitably. We recognize that situations might arise wherein these desirable ends are, to some extent at least, mutually exclusive. Our analysis keeps in mind the necessity of making trade-off choices among these ends.
The particular factors in each society that condition governmental decision-making and apply decision-making rules cause varying patterns of choice to emerge. Such patterns of choice entail different consequences. Thus, as shown here and more fully in the concluding chapter, each of these strategies of choice can be expected to involve a different calculation of costs and benefits when determining the appropriate mix of system goals: see, in particular, Figures 16 and 17.
Identifying System Goals:
The Role of the State
We perceive the state as an action agency geared to coping with tasks which the people pose for it through the vehicle of a leadership elite. It engages in purposeful behavior aimed at furthering systemic "self-determination."[1] Self-determination" encompasses both economic and poltical dimensions. The former includes the expansion, efficient allocation, and equitable distribution of resources. The latter involves an increase in political innovativeness to achieve systemic goals. "If we define the core area of politics as the area of enforceable decisions or, more accurately, of all decisions backed by some combination of a significant probability of enforcement," remarks Karl W. Deutsch, "then politics becomes the method par excellence for securing preferential treatment for messages and commands and for the reallocation of human or material resources. Politics thus appears as a major instrument for either retarding or accelerating social learning and innovation."[2]
Viewing the state as a goal-securing and problem-solving mechanism, how is one to evaluate its achievements? We rate the performance of states primarily in terms of their ability to set realizable goals as well as to select the alternatives that will achieve these multiple goals at the lowest possible cost.[3] As for the first task, a distinguished Zambian has stressed the critical
[1] Karl W. Deutsch, The Nerves of Government (New York: Free Press, 1969), p. 250.
[2] Ibid., p. 254.
[3] James M. Buchanan and Gordon Tullock, The Calculus of Consent (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1971), p. 36.
need to select goals imaginatively and realistically. "Leaders," writes Foreign Minister Vernon J. Mwaanga, "must have a clear perception of what constitutes progress, they must embody an element of rationality in their behaviour, they must have an appreciation of priorities and above all must have integrity which transcends mere rhetoric and sloganeering."[4] In addition to great skill in goal formulation, leaders must display considerable capacity in fulfilling these tasks. Systemic performance (i.e., the ability to achieve goals in an efficient manner) provides the basis for regime legitimacy and stability. It is the central challenge encountered by all African statesmen and planners—irrespective of the particular policy-making style they have adopted. Thus Knud Erik Svendsen's remark that "the worst enemy of a socialist policy in any African country is bad economic performance" applies to capitalist-oriented and socialist-oriented states alike.[5]
In the remainder of this section, we concentrate on the first aspect of collective (or state) problem-solving—the task of formulating acceptable system goals. It is evident that certain critical tasks of state building and maintenance are common to the African states as a whole; our problem is to deduce these tasks from general experience. A measure of assistance is given us by the efforts of some members of the Committee on Comparative Politics of the Social Science Research Council to identify the six "crises" of political development which "may be met in different sequences but all of which must be successfully dealt with for a society to become a modern nationstate ."[6] According to these analysts, a state must cope with the following list of "critical system-development problems or crises" in the process of modernizing: (1) the identity crisis: the achievement of a conmmon sense of territorial identity; (2) the legitimacy crisis: the need to arrive at a consensus on the valid
[4] Vernon J. Mwaanga, "Zambia Heads for the Big Poll," Sunday Times of Zambia (Ndola), October 14, 1973, p. 7.
[5] Quoted in William Tordoff and Ali A. Mazrui, "The Left and the Super-Left in Tanzania," Journal of Modern African Studies 10, no. 3 (October 1972): 439.
[6] Lucian W. Pye, Aspects of Political Development (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1966), p. 63. (Our italics.)
exercise of authority by political elites and structures; (3) the penetration crisis: the securing of an effective central governmental presence throughout the territory under control; (4) the participation crisis: the channeling of various public demands for inclusion in the decision-making process into legitimate institutional outlets; (5) the integration crisis: the establishment of a coherent system of interactional relationships among the many groups and interests making up the society; and (6) the distribution crisis: the ability of political elites to reconcile the demands for particular goods and services with collective needs for economic growth, resource mobilization, and collective goods (for example, national defense or pollution abatement) that are available to all members of the community.[7]
This listing represents a useful delineation of certain problems at hand. However, it seems less than complete and not always balanced in the way that issues are emphasized. It enumerates modernization tasks, but it does not compile the broader challenges and objectives implicit in systemic self-determination—particularly from an African point of view. Whereas the categories assume the survival of the state, African leaders (especially those whose countries border on the white states of southern Africa, as well as Kenya and Tanzania, which lie adjacent to President Idi Amin's Uganda, Ghana with respect to the Volta Region, and Ethiopia with regard to Eritrea) remain profoundly anxious over the question of territorial integrity. Moreover, the categories take little or no account of the exogenous variable, when African spokesmen evince great concern over continuing evidences of external control (i.e., neocolonialism).[8] In general, the political modernization ap-
[7] Ibid., pp. 63–67; James S. Coleman, "Modernization: Political Aspects," International Encyclopaedia of the Social Sciences (New York: The Macmillan Co. and the Free Press, 1968), pp. 395–402; Anthony H. Rweyemamu, "Some Reflection on Contemporary African Political Institutions and their Capacity to Generate Socio-Economic Development," African Review 1, no. 2 (September 1971): 33–34; and Leonard Binder et al., Crises and Sequences in Political Development (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1971), pp. 110–11, 136–37, 187, 279–81.
[8] In subsequent writings, however, some modernization analysts have shown great subtlety in discussing exogenous causation in developmental episodes. See Gabriel A. Almond, "Approaches to DevelopmentalCausation," in Gabriel A. Almond, Scott C. Flanagan, and Robert J. Mundt, Crisis, Choice and Change (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1973), pp. 28–30.
proach can be said to suffer grievously from a Western-based ethnocentrism. As Naomi Caiden and Aaron Wildavsky argue:
Modernization assumes transformation from a traditional to a modern state, but it gives little indication how this journey may be achieved; it is static, not dynamic. It assumes a dichotomy between traditional and modern without considering the stages in between and patterns of behavior that may even prevent modernization taking place as worthy of discussion in their own right. It equates modernization with Westernization, and current Western society as the ultimate goal for development of other nations. . . . Worst of all modernization theory was culture-bound, seeing economic growth not only as the most important aim, but stipulating that its attainment was irrevocably intertwined with Western organizational forms and values.[9]
Nevertheless, molernization theory presents a guide to our immediate concern with setting system goals in most African circumstances. Regarding modifications, Lucian Pye's suggestion on collapsing categories is worth recording. Pye remarks that integration relates popular political activity to governmental performance, thereby offering an "effective and compatible solution of both the penetration and the participation crises."[10]
Furthermore, we note the need for two additional categories: ensuring the survival of the nation as constituted at independence; and securing freedom from external control. Although both variables relate to the international environment, they differ significanly in that the first refers primarily to possible threats against territorial integrity (for example, South Africa vis-à-vis Zambia, Botswana, and Mozambique), while the second applies to the political, economic, and social penetration of political systems.[11] Postindependence Third World countries
[9] Naomi Caiden and Aaron Wildavsky, Planning and Budgeting in Poor Countries (New York: John Wiley, 1974), pp. 27–28.
[10] Pye, Aspects of Political Development, p. 65.
[11] "A penetrated political system," states James N. Rosenau, "is one in which nonmembers of a national society participate directly and authoritatively, through actions taken jointly with the society's members, in either the allocation of its values or the mobilization of support onbehalf of its goals." "Pre-Theories and Theories of Foreign Policy," in R. Barry Farrell (ed.), Approaches to Comparative and International Politics (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1966), p. 65.
are often fragile in both geo-specific and task-specific terms. The low capabilities of such states expose them to various external manipulations and influences. However, it is in the political, economic, and social (not the military) spheres that the greatest of their number are vulnerable to continuing outside pressures. No doubt this sensitivity to the prevailing threat of the international environment explains the skepticism and suspicion of the leaders of poorer countries toward such seemingly supportive activities as multinational corporate investment and foreign aid.
At least one other major modification seems necessary in terms of our immediate purposes: to recognize explicitly the need to expand economic and social opportunities throughout Africa. To be sure, the concept of distribution subsumes a category on mobilizing resources within it. Even so, we regard the enhancement of economic and social capacity to be a challenge of such pressing magnitude as to require full and equal recognition along with the allocative process. An effective and equity-oriented distribution mechanism obviously means little unless it is buttressed by an ability to produce. And even then, the aggregate demands on productiveness are so staggering as to defy easy assumptions about the future. Thus the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization reported that, given a continuation of current population trends, the demand for grain in the developing countries will rise from 600 million tons in 1970 to 900 million tons in 1985. The implications of this situation are enormous, for the FAO report estimates that over time the LDCs will have shortages of 85 million tons, a measurement which could easily prove to be on the short side in the event of serious crop failures (such as in the Sahelian area of West Africa during the early 1970s). In order to make up for this 10 percent gap in their needs, the LDCs will have to increase imports—valued, at current prices, at some $17 billion per annum.[12] The solution to this insufficiency of grain in the LDCs, argued the FAO report, is to increase the amount of
[12] New York Times, June 3, 1974, p. 2.
grain raised in these countries. But this only underscores the critical link between productivity and allocation, a connection which we feel deserves explicit recognition when a list of system goals is formulated.
The crises and problems of political development can now be reformulated into system goals as modified by the above additions and substitutions. To this end, the following collective tasks seem paramount: (1) ensuring systemic survival: maintaining the capacity for collective action; (2) establishing a national identity: fostering an awareness of common ties on the part of the inhabitants of a territorial unit; (3) integrating societies: facilitating the growth, of community-wide interaction and exchange, primarily through an expansion of central institutions and activities; (4) creating an acceptable authority system: acquiring public acceptance of an authoritative and effective legal and political structure; (5) mobilizing and distributing resources efficiently: increasing productive capacity and sharing the output equitably among the members of the community; (6) securing freedom from external control: reducing economic, political, and social dependence on any external actor or set of actors so as to maximize a country's capacity for achieving its collective purposes.
In achieving these collective tasks, decision-makers in each state play a critical role in the determination of priorities. The tasks outlined above are burdensome in themselves, and the fact that they occur simultaneously in the LDCs places a heavy "load" on policy-makers in these countries.[13] By definition, underdevelopment means an overburdening situation, one in which the claims on the system outpace the capacity of institutions to absorb legitimate demands. In an environment of strain brought on by this capabilities imbalance, choice becomes formidable. Since different opportunity costs (the costs of forgoing another benefit or set of benefits) are involved, the choice as to priorities necessarily entails broad and important implications for patterns of production and consumption in the society
[13] James S. Coleman, "The Development Syndrome: Differentiation-Equality-Capacity," in Leonard Binder et al., Crises and Sequences in Political Development (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1971), p. 86.
as a whole.[14] An understanding of the decision process, then, requires that considerable attention be given to the preferences and predispositions of those engaged in policy-making. And this leads to a wider issue, which we now turn to; namely, the factors conditioning choice.
Decision-Making Factors:
The Pursuit of System Goals
We recognize that choice does not take place in a vacuum. In real-life behavior, choice cannot fully conform to a "rational-choice" model where a unified and purposeful actor calculates the costs and benefits of each course of action as it arises. Instead, "rationality refers to consistent, value-maximizing choice within specified constraints."[15] As a consequence, an understanding of the process by which policy-makers select and order alternatives requires that some attention be paid to the factors constricting and conditioning decision-making.
In choosing among alternative courses of action, it is necessary not to minimize the importance of the political elite's "perception of interests" or the manner in which it "articulat[es] specific values."[16] But if the political actors remain at center stage in the decision process, it is nonetheless important to recognize the extent to which their maneuverability is circumscribed. The policy analyst therefore gains a useful perspective on the broader process of decision-making by paying heed simultaneously to the conditioning factors as well as to the alternatives at hand. What, then, are the main limitations in the real world upon a model of rational choice as set out in the appendix to Chapter 1? Leaving aside the important but highly variegated area of personal predilections and prefer-
[14] L. L. Wade and R. L. Curry, Jr., A Logic of Public Policy (Belmont, Calif.: Wadsworth Publishing Co., 1970), p. 35. Also see David Feldman, "The Economics of Ideology," in Colin Leys (ed.), Politics and Change in Developing Countries (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969), pp. 91, 96.
[15] Graham T. Allison, Essence of Decision (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1971), p. 30. (Italics deleted.)
[16] Ernst B. Haas, The Uniting of Europe (London: Steven & Sons, 1958), p. 13.
ences, the decision process is influenced by five general factors: information, values, belief systems, analytic capacity, and bureaucratic organization. Each of these will be examined briefly below.
Information
Where policy-makers are unable to secure sufficient and reliable information, their evaluation of the costs and the benefits of pursuing various lines of action will be limited and will involve a degree of risk and uncertainty.[17] In many African countries, basic data are scanty, and few qualified analysts are available to make use of what data do exist. In the absence of reliable data on human and physical resources, climates, agriculture, industry, and so forth, it is difficult in the extreme for analysts to arrive at realistic and creative policies. [18] The inputs simply do not exist on which to base the most desirable output policies.
Paradoxically, those who suffer least in terms of information resources are most aware of the need for improved information systems. Thus Kenya's Mwai Kibaki, the minister for finance and economic planning, told a seminar of government finance officers from all ministries of the need for increased data on which to base decisions.[19] And if such data were imperative in the maximizing of comprehensive planning objectives, they were equally important in the attaining of day-to-day administrative aims. The complications arising from inadequate information in carrying on ordinary administrative activities are apparent from a reading of David K. Leonard's description of Kenya's (relatively efficient) bureaucracy. He writes, "In several ministries the central filing system is no longer adequate to the demands being made upon it, and senior civil servants are resorting to informal communication, personal files, and private searches for lost documents in order to meet their information needs. It is not uncommon for letters from one civil servant to another to receive delayed replies—or no answer at all."[20] And
[17] Herbert A. Simon, Administrative Behavior (New York: Free Press, 1957), pp. 39–41.
[18] Yehezkel Dror, Public Policymaking Reexamined (Scranton: Chandler Publishing Co., 1968), p. 116.
[19] East African Standard (Nairobi), April 13, 1973, p. 9.
[20] David K. Leonard "Communications and Deconcentration," in Goran Hyden, Robert Jackson, and John Okumu (eds.), DevelopmentAdministration: The Kenyan Experience (Nairobi: Oxford University Press, 1970), p. 101.
what is known about relatively developed Kenya is an indication of even greater problems in some of the less developed countries which lack the technical and manpower resources readily available in that country. Even so, Kenya's information needs are likely to mount rapidly as industrialization occurs in years to come.[21] Unlike their predecessors, industrial societies are complex and fragile; they require a high degree of information in order to function effectively. Hence, the more progress Kenya achieves in fulfilling its firmly established goal of enhanced productiveness the more urgent its need for knowledge is likely to be. And any failure to secure the necessary information will have increasingly grave consequences for efficient decision-making and plan implementation.
Values
By their ability to set basic policy directions, collective values constitute an important aspect in the decision process. They are distinguishable from system goals in the following manner: "Values," observes Talcott Parsons "are . . . deliberately defined at a level of generality higher than that of goals—they are directions of action rather than specific objectives, the latter depending on the particular character of the situation in which the system is placed as well as on its values and its structure as a system."[22]
By channeling actions along certain lines, socially shared values can act to inhibit rational choice-making. A look at some of the key values held by African opinion-formers reveals large discontinuities. Widely shared values on equity (in regard to taxation, education, incomes, employment, management, business ownership, and so forth) come into conflict with other, strong commitments on the need for rapid economic growth. [23]
[21] David E. Apter, Choice and the Politics of Allocation (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1971), p. 42. Also see Robert C. North and Richard Lagerstrom, War and Domination: A Theory of Lateral Pressure (New York: General Learning Press, 1971), p. 2. Given weak bureaucracies in many of the African states, high information could become terribly costly, leading, in certain circumstances, to immobilisme.
[22] Quoted in Seymour M. Lipset, The First New Nation (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, Anchor Books, 1967), p. 4.
[23] For a discussion of this conflict of values with respect toAfricanization policies, see Donald Rothchild, "Kenya's Africanization Program: Priorities of Development and Equity," American Political Science Review 64, no. 3 (September 1970): 737–53.
Populist values on participation, recruitment, and distribution are at cross-purposes with entrenched elitist values and practices. Gaps between subregional claims and system integrity as well as between the values of legal sovereignty and genuine independence are as striking as they are commonplace.
The cumulative effect of these discontinuities is to place policy-makers at a difficult vantage point. They must simultaneously balance such needs as equity, economic growth, participation, elite incentive, subregional opportunity, central integrity, legal sovereignty, and full independence.[24] In an environment frequently higher on demands and expectations than on fiscal, material, and trained manpower resources, it becomes difficult in the extreme for them to establish meaningful and acceptable value priorities. And to the extent that decision elites engage in a process of value trade-off, the ambiguity of direction that may result adds considerably to the tasks of rational choice-making.
Belief Systems
Many strong (and often persuasive) appeals have been made to systematize and act on Africa's body of shared beliefs. In a well-known statement on the subject, Frantz Fanon pointed to an absence of ideology as the "great danger" threatening Africa;[25] inspired by this argument, Maina Kagombe went on to contend that "an ideology is necessary to create a frame of reference and a common denominator of beliefs and values with which to carry on the political and social revolution vital for all African peoples."[26] African ideologies are sought after, then, because of their (assumed) capacity to
[24] Ira Sharkansky, The Politics of Taxing and Spending (Indianapolis: Bobbs, Merrill, 1969), p. 11.
[25] Frantz Fanon, Toward the African Revolution, trans. by Haakon Chevalier (New York: Grove Press, 1969), p. 186. For a rejection of the notion that ideologies are indispensable to African self-fulfillment, see B. D. G. Folson, "Ideology and African Politics," Transition 8, no. 6 (1973): 17.
[26] Maina Kagombe, "Revolutionary Theory and Models for Guerrilla Action in the Non-Liberated Territories of Africa," Pan-African Journal 4, no. 1 (Winter 1971): 9.
inspire the action consequences desired by decision elites. Such systematized sets of ideas, whether implicitly or explicitly formulated, are viewed as an asset in giving purpose and continuity to state-building activities. They compensate in part for the fragility of institutions, they provide a base for regime legitimacy, they act as guidelines to choice, and they assist policymakers in mobilizing and allocating resources.[27] In Ethiopia, the motto of "Ethiopia Tikdem," which puts the interest of the people before those of the individual, attempts to rally mass support for the new regime as well as for its program of socialism. In brief, ideologies, by constructing a particular view of reality, can be a major factor in conditioning decision-making—influencing the manner in which goals are specified, resources assembled, policies determined, and programs implemented. Thus, Ethiopia's program of "Zemetcha," the national work campaign for development through cooperation, seeks to mobilize a staff of 56,000 people to "carry the torch of knowledge to the masses in rural areas living in utter darkness."[28]
But if ideologies are resources at the disposal of decision-makers,[29] they also act at times to thwart the selection of optimal choices. They present a particular view of reality—not necessarily a rational one. "Ideology arises, not by applying truths to real problems, but by uniting universal theory (which may or may not have relevance for real problems) and concrete practice (which may or may not be determined by the truths)."[30] In doing so, ideology twists the facts as necessary to conform to its view of the world. Such a (liscrepancy between fact and reality gives rise to "incorrect learning feedback."[31]
[27] On the substantial but not conclusive evidence of a correlation between ideology and action consequences, see Alexander J. Groth, Major Ideologies (New York: John Wiley, 1971), pp. 11–17.
[28] Ethiopia Herald (Addis Ababa), December 23, 1975, pp. 1,2,4.
[29] For one observer, an ideology is a "non-material 'currency'" which may be substituted where regimes lack readily distributable amounts of goods and services to purchase behavior. See John R. Nellis, A Theory of Ideology: The Tanzanian Example (Nairobi: Oxford University Press, 1972), p. 14.
[30] Franz Schurmann, Ideology and Organization in Communist China (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1968), p. 29.
[31] Dror, Public Policymaking Reexamined, p. 107.
Decision-makers are unable to secure reliable information on which to make efficient policy calculations, causing a gap to emerge between theory and practice; the end product of this distortion of reality could be a legitimacy crisis—that is, unless the situation is corrected by a return to an accurate interpretation of the facts. In any case, to the extent that belief systems twist reality, they can be said to complicate and encumber rational choice processes.
Analytic Capacity
In the' section above on information as a conditioning factor in decision-making, we noted Mwai Kibaki's reference to the need for increased data as a means of improving politico-economic calculations. Greater budgetary information would help, he contended, to introduce modern management techniques, facilitate financial control, enable planners to come to more desirable decisions, and provide parliament with the facts for debate.[32] "As we become more effective in linking objectives to expenditures," he asserted, "we will begin to challenge the pattern of expenditure which has been uncritically accepted in the past."[33] Increased knowledge and the analytic skills to make efficient use of that knowledge thus became inextricably linked to one another. A failure in either direction would entail severe limitations on the achievement of system goals—at least in terms of the lowest possible costs. By analytic skills in policy-making, we mean the capacity to make effective use of whatever technology is necessary to set collective tasks, establish value priorities, determine costs and benefits of alternative lines of action, execute policies, evaluate the impact of policies, and redesign policies on the basis of learning feedback. As the decisional process gains in efficiency, and as policy analysts develop improved strategies for realizing the best possible alternative in a given context, they will bring a high level of analytic capacity to the problem at hand. Anything less than this will necessarily be short of true rational choice.
Bureaucratic Organization
Finally, optimal policy-making is constrained by the bureaucratic environment in which analysts must operate. They are not free to determine lines of action as they wish, that is, to set rational policies in terms of
[32] East African Standard (Nairobi), April 13, 1973. p. 9
[33] Ibid.
the most efficient calculation of costs and benefits availing. Instead, they must engage in a ceaseless process of bargaining and conciliation to establish programs that are minimally satisfactory to the group as a whole. And outward appearances of harmony and consensus notwithstanding, these factional struggles can be both bitter and productive of less than desirable consequences. Bureaucratic organizations in fact only thinly conceal deep divisions based on agency interest, status, subregion, ethnic identity, ideological commitment, and policy-making style. As Fritz Morstein Marx puts the matter so well: "In this internal process . . . idea battles idea without imposition of control. The value of agreement among the participants is reduced to minimal operational necessity, to the need for hammering out proposed solutions."[34]
Even if bureaucratic organizations are at times deeply divided and conflictive, this does not in itself explain why the organizational actors are reduced to minimal operational requirements. It is not conflict as such but the need to reconcile diverse interests which explains such bureaucratic behavior. As the decision-making group is enlarged in size, collective agreement becomes more difficult and, therefore, bargaining activities become increasingly necessary. "To establish a group agreement or organization will nonetheless always tend to be more difficult the larger the size of the group, for the larger the group the more difficult it will be to locate and organize even a subset of the group, and those in the subset will have an incentive to continue bargaining with the others in the group until the burden is widely shared, thereby adding to the expense of bargaining."[35] Not only is the bargaining process an organizational cost but it helps to explain the acceptance of policies that are minimally satisfactory in nature. And in addition to the costs of expanding the decision group there are the questions of participant equity; the bargaining process cannot ensure that all
[34] F. M. Marx, "The Higher Civil Service as an Action Group in Western Political Development," in Joseph LaPalombara (ed.), Bureaucracy and Political Development (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1963), p. 89.
[35] Mancur Olson, The Logic of Collective Action (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1965), p. 46.
actors have equal access to the deliberative group, are equally persuasive or equally able to define which options are most relevant to organization purposes.[36] Hence bureaucratic behavior structures the way in which organization priorities and perceptions become accepted, thereby acting itself as a major constraint on optimal decision-making.
No doubt some additional factors could well be deserving of the attention given to the five major constraints on rational choice discussed above. Such aspects as drive and energy, time horizons, equipment, expectations, and external pressures all come immediately to mind. However, the overriding point seems clear: in light of the conditioning factors already examined, a frontal assault upon system goals cannot automatically be anticipated—no matter how logical or urgent these collective tasks may be. Rather, the decision process is limited by a number of factors which, when taken together, go far in showing why in real-life situations it can be extremely difficult to maximize the values widely held in the society.
Decision-Making Rules and System Goals
Before looking at decision outputs and outcomes in Africa, it is necessary to describe briefly some of the procedures that frequently predetermine public-policy decisions. A full appreciation of these guides to collective action, or decision rules, indicates in advance the kinds of policy outputs for which leaders are likely to opt. To exemplify this phenomenon at the individual level, a person whose guides to decision lead him or her to live by community political "rules" is predisposed to work through the existing system to effect desired policy changes; by contrast, a person whose guides to action are based primarily on a universal moral value may be more disposed toward working outside the political system in order to transform public policy. Thus the procedures for choice can
[36] Morton H. Halperin and Arnold Kanter, "Introduction," in Morton H. Halperin and Arnold Kanter (eds.), Readings in American Foreign Policy: A Bureaucratic Perspective (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1973), pp. 27–28.
"dominate the decisions made.[37] As a consequence, decision rules are a central part of the larger process of decision-making and must be identified and comprehended before the strategies for goal maximization are analyzed.
Decision rules are evident at all major stages in the decision process: the assemblage of information, the specification of the problem, the determination of problem-solving alternatives, the choice of alternatives, and the implementation of the chosen policy.[38] At this point, the primary concern is with the determination of the alternative courses of action and the selection of a problem-solving strategy from among these options. There are decision rules for the various steps in the decision process, and a distinction can be drawn as to formal rules (constitutions, laws, etc.)[39] and informal rules (the rules of thumb). In addition, there are differences between behavioral and normative decision rules. Whereas behavioral rules apply to standard operating procedures, normative rules are a critical aspect in the procedures of choice-making "in both the sense of trying to improve performances and judging values in relation to each other."[40] We recognize that in real-world contexts these different types of rules often overlap one another, but nonetheless we find them useful in a heuristic sense.
Let us look more closely at decision rules in terms of the behavioral-normative distinction. A wide array of normative (and behavioral) guides to policy exist, but we concentrate on rules that we see as central to such key political economy goals as the efficient mobilization and allocation of resources, and trade-offs between them. In adopting a strategy on setting
[37] Richard M. Cyert and James G. March, A Behavioral Theory of the Firm (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1963), p. 113. Joseph D. Cooper's description of decision-rules as "govern[ing] final selection of an alternative" seems even stronger on this question. The Art of Decision-making (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1961), p. 58.
[38] Max D. Richards and Paul S. Greenlaw, Management Decision Making (Homewood, Ill.: Richard D. Irwin, 1966), pp. 27, 30.
[39] Robert L. Curry, Jr., and Larry Wade, A Theory of Political Exchange (Englewood Cliffs,N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1968), pp. 35–36; and Buchanan and Tullock, The Calculus of Consent (n. 3 above), passim.
[40] Warren F. Ilchman, "Decision Rules and Decision Roles," African Review 2, no. 2 (1972): 237.
priorities between an expansion of resources and an equal distribution of the resulting output among individuals, we note that some useful procedures for choice-making can be appropriated from the general corpus of economic analysis in this regard. In particular, a decision-maker must not forgo the opportunity of choosing an option that carries a more favorable net benefit than those resulting from other opportunities. But this guide to policy is incomplete unless heed is paid to another possible decision rule—the "Pareto Optimum." The Pareto Optimum would justify a change only if no individuals were made worse off by the change and that some individuals were better off because of it.[41] But is the test of Pareto's construction sufficient in regard to equity considerations? E. J. Mishan, among others, cautions that this is not necessarily the case:
Any adopted criterion of a cost-benefit analysis, that is, requires inter alia that all benefits exceed costs, and therefore can be vindicated by a social judgement that an economic rearrangement which can make everyone better off is an economic improvement. The reader's attention is drawn to the fact that such a judgement does not require that everyone is actually made better off, or even that nobody is actually worse off. The likelihood—which, in practice, is a virtual certainty—that some people, occasionally most people, will be worse off by introducing the investment project in question is tacitly acknowledged. A project that is adjudged feasible by reference to a cost-benefit analysis is, therefore, quite consistent with an economic arrangement that makes the rich richer and the poor poorer. It is also consistent with manifest inequity, for an enterprise that is an attractive proposition by the lights of a cost-benefit calculation may be one that offers opportunities for greater profits and pleasure to one group, in the pursuit of which substantial damages and suffering may be endured by other groups. In order, then, for a mootecl enterprise to be socially approved, it is not enough that the outcome of an ideal cost-benefit analysis is positive. It must also be shown that the resulting distributional changes are not regressive, and no gross inequities are perpetrated.[42]
The policy-maker's problem, then, is to select an appropriate set of criteria as choice-making guides for using the community's scarce resources in a way that would tend to
[41] Buchanan and Tullock, p. 172.
[42] E. J. Mishan, Economics for Social Decisions (New York: Praeger, 1973), p. 13.
maximize collective values on the output of goods and services and their distribution. The key to appropriate policy is not that the new institutional structures resemble a preconceived set of "acceptable" ones. Rather, it is whether these institutions and processes can adequately measure up to an appropriate set of criteria. Change that facilitates resource expansion, allocative efficiency, and equity in distribution is what matters. The particular structures and processes that come about "ought" to facilitate these goals, and that is their test.
Efficiency in the mobilization and allocation of resources is also affected by normative (as well as behavioral) decision rules regarding the extent of participant consent necessary to establish policies. Clearly the manner in which resources will be expended is affected by the organizational procedures on reaching agreements. Because a rule of unanimity usually involves an overinvestment of decision-making resources, societies adopt procedures that reduce interdependence costs to the minimum consonant with their needs and expectations.[43] "Since decision-making costs increase as the group grows larger, and since there seems to be no reason to expect that external costs will decrease, the total costs expected to arise from collective organization of activity, under any given rules for legislative decision-making, will tend to be higher in large groups than in small groups."[44] Consequently, if a unanimity rule is likely to prove exceedingly costly, some other rule of collective agreement which involves a lower investment of resources is essential: one-person, simple majority, or some alternative formula, such as three-fifths, two-thirds, three-fourths, and so forth. Each of these procedures entails different consequences for the use of resources. As William A. Niskanen, Jr., demonstrates so effectively in one social context, a change in the decision-making rule from simple majority to two-thirds consent, results in somewhat less public services generally, but, paradoxically, also improves the relative position of lower-income groups. Under a nonprogressive but proportionate tax system, the low and middle groups will receive slightly lower net benefits, and
[43] Buchanan and Tullock, pp. 110, 213.
[44] Ibid., pp. 216–17.
the economically advantaged group will now obtain distinctly higher net benefits inasmuch as the marginal costs to pay for public (indivisible) goods are greater among the poor than among the rich.[45] Hence the shift in agreement rules directly affects distributive outcomes.
We turn now to behavioral decision rules. Although the final selection of alternatives is left to the decision-maker (or makers), it is assumed that these rules facilitate the proper choosing of alternatives, thereby maximizing goal achievement at the lowest possible decision-making cost. Not only do these behavioral rules establish the necessary procedures for making and implementing policies, but they aid the process of choice by setting priorities in advance. "The objective," states Ilchman, "is to improve performance, to minimize the negative consequences to values from action."[46]
With respect to mobilizational and distributive objectives, the number of guides to policy are so extensive that a few instances suffice. Basic principles for these procedural rules of thumb as laid down by Richard M. Cyert and James G. March are that they avoid uncertainty, that the rules be maintained, and that simple rules be used.[47] In conformity with these basic principles, Albert O. Hirschman sets a number of procedures for choice-making which seek to maximize productionist ends. Among Hirschman's many decision rules are the following: "Since we necessarily underestimate our creativity, it is desirable that we underestimate to a roughly similar extent the difficulties of the tasks we face so as to be tricked by these two offsetting underestimates into undertaking tasks that we can, but otherwise would not dare, tackle" (the principle of the Hiding Hand); ". . . adding a highly technical dimension to a project will be useful in giving it some protection from political interference"; "the risk of excess capacity is lowest when the project's output is widely spread as an input over many sectors (and regions) or when output goes overwhelmingly to final mass
[45] W. A. Niskanen, Jr., Bureaucracy and Representative Government (Chicago: Aldine-Atherton, 1971), pp. 169–186, 222.
[46] Ilchman, "Decision Rules and Decision Roles," p. 236.
[47] Cyert and March, Behavioral Theory of the Firm, p. 102.
consumption demand; and the risk is the bigger the greater is the concentration of the project's output on a few final consumers or on a few cells of the interindustry matrix."[48]
The annual budgetary process, an important aspect in both mobilizing and distributing resources, is replete with behavioral decision rules. For Aaron Wildavsky, decision rules are aids in calculating how much to ask for, deciding how much to recommend, and determining how much to give; in their role as guides to action, they assist budget officials by reducing complexity and uncertainty.[49] Perhaps the most widely accepted rule of budgetary practice around the world is the "incremental" one. Accordingly, most of an agency's current budget (and also its development budget) are the products of past decisions; if an item remains substantially unaltered, it will probably be repeated in the following year's budget, with adjustments made for inflation.[50] This practice is precisely what we found in Zambia. There, despite a commitment to a full-scale restructuring of the economy, the ministries were, in practice, much influenced by previous budgetary allocations when establishing the next year's expenditure patterns. Nevertheless, the prior year's performance was also a critical factor in allocating new funds for developmental purposes. In interviews with public officials in 1971, it became evident that housing funds tended to be distributed in large amounts to those districts which made full use of the previous year's distributions. The more they used, the more they received; districts that were slow to utilize their funds because of administrative inefficiency were penalized when the following year's review occurred.[51] Thus two guides to policy- incrementalism and performance—operated side by side and contributed significantly to Zambia's real-life budgetary choices.
[48] Albert O. Hirschman, Development Projects Observed (Washington, D.C.: The Brookings Institution, 1967), pp. 13, 54, 73, 88.
[49] Aaron Wildavsky, The Politics of the Budgetary Process (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1964), pp., 6–12. Also see Otto A. Davis, M. A. H. Dempster, and Aaron Wildavsky, "A Theory of the Budgetary Process," American Political Science Review 60, no. 3 (September 1966): 529–47.
[50] Wildavsky, Politics of the Budgetary Process, pp. 13–16.
[51] See Donald Rothchild, "Rural-Urban Inequities and ResourceAllocation in Zambia," Journal of Commonwealth Political Studies 10, no. 3 (1972): 237–38.
The adoption of incremental decision rules can also be understood with respect to the environment in which the budgetary process occurs. In many African countries there is a severe shortage of trained accountants and administrators, faulty systems for classifying budget accounts, inadequate accounting practices, and insufficient means of control. "Because all budgetary systems are limited by deficiencies of discipline in formulating and executing a budget," observes Albert Waterston, "the achievement of these goals [developing appropriate information on the public sector transactions and improving the efficiency of budget management technique and procedure] is a precondition to effective budgeting."[52] " There is neither the manpower nor the organization for a careful examination of each item of the budget on an annual basis. Hence, in a large number of situations, incrementalist decision rules seem likely to continue indefinitely as a matter of course.
Similarly, other rules of budgeting are being utilized which reflect policy-making requirements on simplicity and flexibility. For example, rather than insisting on the achievement of optimum objectives, the decision elites in many African states seek merely to satisfy and suffice.[53] " Moreover, incremental types of calculations are evident in two additional guides to policy: the "base" and "fair share." Whereas the base involves an expectation that agency programs will normally be continued at existing levels of expenditure, the fair share "means not only the base an agency has established but also the expectation that it will receive some proportion of funds, if any, which are to be increased over or decreased below the base of the various governmental agencies."[54]
In brief, then, budgetary procedures more often than not represent continuation of past practices of improvisation, limited objectives, and marginal adjustments. Claims to rationality
[52] Albert Waterston,Development Planning: Lessons of Experience (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1965), pp. 243–44.
[53] Referred to in Ilchman, "Decision Rules and Decision Roles," p. 239, as "to 'satisfice.' "
[54] Wildavsky, Politics of the Budgetary Process, p. 17.
notwithstanding, their actual practices come closer to "muddling through" than to well-planned input-output analysis. Such incrementalist decision rules are of enormous consequence, for they act to circumscribe the efforts of policy-makers intent on a fundamental restructuring of African political and economic institutions.
Patterns of Choice:
Specifying Goals and Strategies of Choice
If decision rules could predetermine optimum choices in every instance, the determination of policy by elites would become unnecessary. Real-world problems arise which necessitate decisions because the performance of administrative agencies does not meet system goals or because the objectives themselves are inappropriate.[55] Since systemic goals are multiple in nature, choice-making inevitably involves the difficult task of setting priorities among goals. Decision rules can facilitate choice where the alternatives of action are already known and the priorities firmly established, but choice-making becomes inescapable where policy-makers must form judgments as to the relative importance of the goals of the system.
At heart, then, choice-making involves the setting of goal priorities and subpriorities. Although the range of choice open to African policy-makers may be limited by lack of productive resources and by such factors as information and management deficiencies as well as structural and cultural dependencies, we nonetheless see a dimension existing for the determination of collective actions. In brief, we recognize that environmental conditions go far in defining the choice as to policies, but, even within these limits, we see scope for political actors to influence the state's decision on regulating multinational corporations (MNCs), rates of Africanization, adoption of labor intensive techniques for production, diversification of economic and military assistance, and so forth. The current variances in policy outputs and outcomes among African states cannot be explained by environmental differences alone and therefore must
[55] Richards and Greenlaw, Management Decision Making (n. 38 above), p. 29; and Simon, Administrative Behavior (n. 17 above), p. 39.
be attributed, in part at least, to the policy preferences of leaders.
Differing "clusters" of choice are apparent for five of the six strategies for achieving system goals. In the sixth case, ensuring survival, the states adopting a transformation strategy evidenced the least cormmitment to the maintenance of national sovereignty when the alternative of continental African federation was in the offing (see Table 1). Even though Table 1 shows the three strategies (or series of decisions) to be significantly different on the policies to be pursued in maximizing most of the system goals, we plan to emphasize the choices made with respect to goals five and six above - mobilizing and distributing resources efficiently, and securing freedom from external control. An eclectic (six-goal) approach would no doubt produce different, and equally valid, criteria for differentiating choice patterns, stressing, as noted above, such important categories as political party organization, central-subregional relations, leadership patterns, or ideological commitments.[56] But our overall concentration on the political economy elements at hand seems useful. In so concentrating, we take into account the international as well as the domestic ramifications of policy, and we focus thereby on what we feel to be perhaps the most critical aspects of choice availing in developing Africa at this juncture.
In accord with the political economy approach, we see three basic strategies manifested under current circumstances: accommodation, reorganization, and transformation. To be sure, as indicated in the classification scheme presented in Table 1, very real overlaps are found among these lines of decision; yet their general characteristics seem sufficiently different to deserve separate attention. We concentrate here upon strategies of choice and leave an assessment of their costs and benefits mainly to the concluding chapter.
[56] On the need for an eclectic approach, see Immanuel Wallerstein, "Left and Right in Africa," Journal of Modern African Studies 9, no. 1 (May 1971): 9. In subsequent writings, however, Wallerstein has come to stress the area of political-economic choice almost exclusively. See his article, "Dependence in an Interdependent World: The Limited Possibilities of Transformation Within the Capitalist World Economy," African Studies Review 17, no. 1 (April 1974): 9–23.
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The Accommodation Strategy
Because of a host of historical and environmental factors (for example, colonial neglect; rapid population increase; inadequate capital, skills, and enterprise; insufficient resources; and so forth), a number of African lands (Chad, Upper Volta, Niger, Malawi, Lesotho, and others listed in the appendix to this chapter, pp. 147–48), have come to independence poor, weak, and lacking in opportunity. The burdens on government far outweigh the capabilities in evidence. Therefore, with little room for maneuver, leaders in many of the least advantaged (or "Fourth World") countries feel compelled by circumstances to accept the international order much as they inherited it. To be sure, they may bridle over inequitable or humiliating linkages with the racist states in particular or with foreign capitalism generally. Nevertheless, what distinguishes the accommodationalist states from some of the transformationalist states (equally overburdened economically and fiscally) is that the latter "intend to bring about a revolution,"[57] whereas their accommodationalist counterparts, less optimistic and less comprehensive in their objectives, are disinclined to challenge the existing international system in any of its essentials.
Such a strategy of accommodation to international capitalism results in a series of decisions. For one thing, these states lay a heavy stress on productionist goals; this desire for rapid economic growth rates leads in turn to a variety of subsidiary decisions: the acceptance of inequitable income patterns, of the emergence of islands of urban privilege amidst extensive rural poverty, of relatively slow rates of Africanization (especially at the upper levels of the private sector), and of low public-sector expenditures on social welfare activities. For another thing, the accommodationalist states, in a related act of will, exhibit a strong preference for private cnterprise over public initiative. Only in a special situation where a state such as Mali has moved from a transformation to an accommodation strategy does one encounter serious resistance to the dismantling of state enterprises. And the evidence of French pressure on the regime of
[57] The Arusha Declaration and TANU's Policy on Socialism and Self-Reliance (Dar es Salaam: Publicity Section, TANU, 1967), p. 4.
Moussa Traoré to end subsidies to unprofitable public enterprises is an indication of the broad nature of external involvement in the economy of an accommodationalist-oriented polity.[58]
This predilection for capitalism has internal as well as external implications. It leads to the adoption of various policies geared to make private investment attractive: low taxes, easy remittance of funds abroad, a docile labor force, a commitment against nationalizing enterprises (and a promise of full and quick compensation where public ownership is deemed essential), and the acceptance of an international division of labor which relegates them to the exportation of commodities and the importation of manufactured goods.[59] Such economies become "integrated into the very structure of the developed capitalist economies," and succumb to full structural dependence on the Western capitalist system.[60] To be sure, this policy of accommodation involves certain short-term benefits. Although long showing annual budgetary deficits and dependence upon French Treasury subventions,[61] Togo's economic performance did improve noticeably in 1974; in that year, phosphate production and exportation expanded greatly to take advantage of a temporary rise in international market prices. However, the world price for phosphate receded by 1976, leaving unclear the extent to which such mining activities will
[58] Valerie Plave Bennett, "Military Government in Mali," Journal of Modern African Studies 13, no. 2 (June 1975): 256–57.
[59] For an important essay arguing "the appropriateness of a gradualist strategy for small countries at early stages of development" (p. 192), see Elliot J. Berg, "Structural Transformation versus Gradualism: Recent Economic Development in Ghana and The Ivory Coast," in Philip Foster and Aristide R. Zolberg (eds.), Ghana and The Ivory Coast: Perspectives on Modernization (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1971), pp. 187–230.
[60] Walter Rodney, How Europe Underdeveloped Africa (Dar es Salaam: Tanzania Publishing House, 1972), p. 34.
[61] The CFA-Franc countries are "those independent states that have established monetary arrangements with France through so-called Operations Accounts with the French Treasury." African Department Study Group, "Financial Arrangements of Countries Using the CFA Franc," International Monetary Fund Staff Papers 26, no. 2 (July 1969): 289.
be able both to inject new energy into the declining agricultural sector and to create additional industrial opportunities. Moreover, by allowing the free importation of foreign goods, Togo attracts significant numbers of tourists from neighboring Ghana who use their precious foreign exchange holdings to buy consumer goods that are scarce in their country of residence. As a result, Togo's externally owned and managed restaurants, hotels and supermarkets flourish, but this prosperity is of limited advantage to the average Togolese citizen. In fact, little real economic benefit trickles down, and the social disruption is costly indeed. For example, direct economic allocations to tourism are relatively high. Of the Frs. CFA250.6 million earmarked for development projects under the 1976–80 Development Plan, some Frs. CFA16.5 million have been set aside for direct investments in tourist-related projects (hotels, parks, forests, etc.). The enormity of such an outlay will be understood when it is realized that this expenditure nearly equals the total amount (Frs. CFA20.1 million) allotted to the social-cultural sector (hospitals, nutrition, hygiene, sanitary education, pharmacies, laboratories, schools, youth centers, radio, television, press, sports).[62]
Finally, the accommodationalist states are characterized by their political alignment with the West. In this case, structural dependence is so complete and so accepted that the client states openly identify with their patrons. Two examples of this tendency will suffice. T he accommodationalist countries exhibit a low level of pan-African militancy. This caution is particularly evident on the issue of isolating the Union of South Africa. On this salient question, the African "realists" along the border with the "south" (such as Malawi's President Kamuzu Banda) tend to shun policies involving effective sanctions or military intervention in preference to maximizing values on trade and investment. Even in Zambia, a "pragmatic" element can be detected in the wings, urging a change in foreign policy direction toward more "cordial" relations with white-led neighbors
[62] See Ministère du Plan, République Togolaise, Le Troisième Plan Quinquennal de Développement Economique et Social 1976–1980 (en chiffres) (Lomé Direction Générale du Plan et du Développement, 1976), pp. 21–24, 38–52. $1.00 = CFA 231.
to the south.[63] In addition, the accommodationalists often display a decided lack of commitment to nonalignment doctrines. In 1970, for example, the Mauritius foreign minister, Gaetan Duval, declared that his country had abandoned a policy of nonalignment and would welcome the establishment of a British naval base on its territory. His reasoning was instructive. "On the issue of non-alignment," Gaetan said, "feeding and giving jobs to Mauritians is more important for me."[64] In other words, the realist response to the lack of economic and military capacity involved a playing down of legalistic and moralistic considerations in foreign policy.
The Reorganization Strategy
States which adopt a reorganization strategy, such as Kenya, Zambia, Nigeria, Ghana, and, in some respects, Zaire, accept their structural dependency on the Western capitalist economy; at the same time, they manifest a predilection for reformist policies that attempt to humanize and rationalize the existing domestic and international orders. As such they fall midway between the poles of accommodation and transformation, seeking the advantages of the former in the uninterrupted inflow of skill, capital, and enterprise from the Western world, and seeking the advantages of the latter in the achievement of self-fulfilling values on rapid Africanization, pan-Africanism, nonalignment, and limited nationalization of foreign-owned industries. Having accomplished rapid economic growth through their association with the West, their leaders wish to avert any rupture in this basic relationship—only to liberalize it. Thus they hope to harness the strengths of the current international order to their immediate benefit, and leave open until later the possibility of more fundamental adjustments.
At the heart of the reorganizational world-view is a high priority on productionist objectives. As Kenya leader Tom Mboya once put the matter, "We offer no apology for empha-
[63] In 1971, Harry Nkumbula, the Opposition leader, called for realism toward the south, arguing that such a policy would save foreign exchange by permitting her to import from the cheapest source. Noting that Zambia was purchasing goods and supplies from the southern African countries anyway, Nkumbula urged an improvement of relations for the sake of Zambia's national interest. Times of Zambia (Ndola), May 15, 1971, p. 1; and Zambia Daily Mail (Lusaka), June 29, 1971, p. 7.
[64] Times of Zambia (Ndola), November 11, 1970, p. 3.
sizing the crucial importance of economic growth."[65] It is central to the solution of other pressing problems such as employment, Africanization, income redistribution, agricultural and rural modernization, education reform, and the promotion of small-scale enterprises.[66] And the results have been most impressive. Kenya's Gross Domestic Product rose from K£ 328 million in 1964 to K£ 554 million in 1972 (a cumulative rate of 6.8 percent measured at constant prices.[67] In Zambia, the First National Development Plan set a projected growth rate of 11.7 percent per annum for the years 1966 through 1970 and, in spite of curtailments brought on by the Mufulira Mine disaster and the restrictive impact of the 1969 budget, achieved an annual rate of GNP growth of 10.6 percent during the Plan period as a whole.[68] For the five-year period from 1972 to 1976, Zambia's Second National Development Plan, after discounting the continuation of the fortuitous price boom for copper throughout the period, envisages an annual growth rate of 6.8 percent per annum of GDP.[69] Nigeria realized a 12 percent growth rate in 1971–72, although it is important to note that petroleum earnings accounted for 5.7 percent, or nearly half.[70] In other words, the states adopting a reorganizational approach tend to diverge from the accommodationalist and transformationalist states in terms of overall growth performance; this results in greater optimism regarding their ability to develop the capacity to exercise meaningful choice.
As a consequence of their relative success in gaining their immediate economic growth objectives, the reorganizationalist
[65] Tom Mboya, "Sessional Paper No. 10—It Is African and It Is Socialism," East Africa Journal 6 no. 5 (May 1969): 15.
[66] Donald Rothchild, Racial Bargaining in Independent Kenya: A Study of Minorities and Decolonization (London: Oxford University Press, for the Institute of Race Relations, 1973), p. 436; and Republic of Kenya, Development Plan 1974–1978, Part I (Nairobi: Government Printer, 1974), p. 91.
[67] Development Plan 1974–1978, Part I, p. 47.
[68] Republic of Zambia, Second National Development Plan January, 1972–December, 1976 (Lusaka: Ministry of Development Planning and National Guidance, 1971), p. 2.
[69] Ibid., p. 34.
[70] Suzanne Cronje, "Has Oil Become Nigeria's Crutch?" African Development 6, no. 8 (August 1972), p. 13.
states are highly pragmatic in their approach to economic development questions generally. The Guidelines for Nigeria's Third National Development Plan are quite explicit on this point: "Industrial development planning in Nigeria has been pragmatic rather than doctrinaire. The advantage of this pragmatism is that it implicitly takes into account almost as a matter of routine certain leverages and constraint factors [environmental and resource] which impinge on the choice of goals and strategies."[71] Being heavily committed to rapid economic growth through private enterprise and close ties with the world economy, these states seek to put the capitalist order to work for their purposes. Such continuing linkages are not without domestic consequences. The indigenous elite must bargain with foreign management and capital to ensure a steady inflow of the factors of production; they must offer the multinational corporations easy access, low taxes, protections from hasty nationalization schemes, extensive opportunity to remit funds, and so forth, or the foreign investor will be tempted to explore opportunities elsewhere. In brief, pragmatism entails an explicit recognition that economic growth remains fundamentally dependent on the maintenance of intimate links with the foreign capitalist system.
In what ways, then, are the reorganizationalist states reformist? The answer, by comparison with the accommodationalists, is largely a matter of degree. Although the reorganizers accept and work within the inherited world capitalist economy, they take greater pains to revise the basis of their relationship than do the accommodators. This may in part be explained by their relatively greater economic dynamism, but the end result is more extensive restrictions on the operations of foreign corporations, increased pressures to Africanize staffs, improved wages and working conditions, enhanced tax revenues, and, in a number of cases, limited nationalizations of the commanding heights of the economies. Despite their profound commitment to productionist goals, these states are inclined to press equity objectives so long as they are fully reconcilable with growth
[71] Federal Republic of Nigeria, Guidelines for the Third National Development Plan 1975–1980 (Lagos: Central Planning Office, 1973), p. 17.
objectives. In 1973, President Mobutu Sese Seko announced specific measures to ensure the replacement of foreigners with Zairean nationals; meanwhile Nigerians began to implement the Nigerian Enterprises Promotion Decree of 1972 under which a minimum of 40 percent of the shares in a long list of enterprises would have to be transferred to Nigerian citizens before April 1, 1974. The Kenya government, which regards the transfer of economic and social control to citizen hands as "a primary objective," has reduced the number of non-citizens in wage employment from 49,300 in 1967 to 25,800 in 1972.[72] The Development Plan 1974–1978 comments further on this process of Kenyanization: "Not surprisingly, the public sector is now much more fully Kenyanized at the high- and middle-levels—83 percent compared with 68 percent for the private sector. Five years earlier, these figures were 73 and 53 percent, respectively. While it is recognized that the skills of non-Kenyans will continue to be required for some time, it is the intention of the Government to reduce their number in wage-paid jobs to no more than a handful by 1982."[73] Thus, in all the reorganizational states, indigenization of posts has moved rapidly. But such a program, desirable as it may be, is not inherently at odds with continuing close ties to international capitalism. Rather, indigenization can be viewed as reconciling the nationalist demand for African opportunity with the continuation of the capitalistic system. It is a reformist policy to the extent that it Africanizes capitalism, rather than moving directly to a socialist program.[74]
Although all the countries adopting a reorganization strategy agree on the need to equalize the opportunities between the urban and rural areas,, none has been more explicit than Zambia on the need for a redistributive rule of action. "From now on,"
[72] West Africa, December 10, 1973, p. 1719, and April 1, 1974 p. 362; and Federal Republic of Nigeria, Official Gazette 59, no. 10 (February 28, 1972): A11–21.
[73] Development Plan 1974–1978, pp. 10, 38.
[74] For an analysis of the Nigerian Enterprises Promotion (Indigenisation) Decree of 1972, see Paul Collins, "The State and Dependent Capitalist Development: The Nigerian Experience," a paper presented to the Department of Political Science Seminar, University of Ghana, Legon, February 12, 1976.
contended President Kenneth Kaunda in 1969, "our priority is rural development." Fearing the possibility of "an explosion in the rural areas" should the current imbalance among provinces be allowed to persist, Kaunda urged the adoption of new priorities with respect to interunit economic planning and resource allocation:
Up to now regional development has been the privilege of the line-of-rail provinces. This we can no longer accept for now we have a People's Government. The basis for the creation of a genuine and balanced regional development is the decision to spread economic activity and to give considerably more weight to the development of the under-developed areas within the country.[75]
This promise to reform the inherited subregional inequalities of the past has actually come to pass slowly. Constrained by dependence on copper and by the world market price for this mineral as well as by such interrelated factors as high production costs, urban drift, rapid population increase, Rhodesia's Unilateral Declaration of Independence, isolation from world markets, heavy transportation expenses, and so forth, it has not been possible for the Kaunda regime to allocate sufficient revenues to overcome stubbornly persistent rural-urban gaps. Even though the 1971 estimates showed the government to be faithful to its redistributive doctrine (see Table 2), actual expenditure patterns have made manifest the fact that reallocative equity is considerably more of a promise than a reality. Not only does the international environment restrict the achievement of economic transformation, but rural development has encountered difficulties with respect to administrative effectiveness and absorptive capacity (in the particular case of the Northern Province, for example, ZK7,149,360 was allotted for development projects under the first development plan but only ZK4,229,700 was actually spent).[76] Whether, under pressure from rural and urban interests, the Zambian leadership will be able to follow the heavily compromised middle course implied in the reorganization strategy remains an open question.
[75] Rothchild, "Rural-Urban Inequities," p. 228. On the ideology of Humanism, see Kenneth D. Kaunda, Humanism in Zambia and a Guide to its Implementation: Part I (Lusaka: Zambia Information Services, 1968), and Part II (Lusaka: Government Printer, 1974).
[76] Rothchild, "Rural-Urban Inequities," pp. 238–39.
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In Ghana, the regime of General Ignatius Kutu Acheampong has taken a strong policy position on righting past imbalances in north-south relations. As in the case of Zambia, the need for a reallocative policy arose from the colonial administration's lack of concern over transforming the north during its period of rule."[77] In addition to socio-cultural diversities, a number of other factors contributed to the north's general isolation from the centers of "modern" activity: its physical distance from key decision-making centers; its geographical (savannah type) uniqueness; its lack of industrial and commercial contact with Western business interests; its general lack of social amenities; and its tendency to avoid contact with Christian missionaries (with all that this implied for educational development in a formal, Western sense). Typical of hinterland regions elsewhere in Africa, the dominant bureaucracy showed little sense of urgency over the development of agriculture and
[77] For some, this inattention represents a "deliberate policy" on the part of the colonial power, aimed at "keep[ing] the area as a reservoir for the 'reserve army of labor.' " Kwesi Prah, "The Northern Minorities in the Gold Coast and Ghana," Race and Class 16, no. 3 (January 1975): 307. Also see David Kimble, A Political History of Ghana: The Rise of Gold Coast Nationalism 1850–1928 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1965), p. 534.
industry, transportation and communications networks, piped water, health facilities, schools, technical colleges and institutions of higher learning, and so forth. The diminutive size of their budgets is in itself a good indication of colonial priorities. Thus in the 1930–31 fiscal year, revenues (mainly fines, fees and rents) amounted to £24,574 and expenditures to £140,132 in the north.[78]
As part of its "revolutionary" program, the Acheampong regime has given great emphasis to its reallocative objectives. The Charter of the National Redemption Council seeks to transform Ghana into a "just society," based, among other things, upon "equal opportunity for all" and "equitable distribution of our resources."[79] And subsequent policy statements are in a similar vein, referring specifically to the need to correct existing "inequalities of educational facilities as between regions, and schools"[80] as well as "to provide social amenities and spread health needs to every part of the country."[81] And if the appeal of equity and social justice were not sufficient, a policy of reallocation could be viewed as in Ghana's economic interests as well. The development of agriculture in the north, the rice bowl of the country, not only meant national self-sufficiency in this critically important crop but created new possibilities for a diversification of export earnings.
But a country adopting a reorganization strategy finds itself limited in implementing a policy of reallocation among subregions. Despite the logical appeals of reallocative equity, it is constrained from acting in a bold manner by the related pressure of resource scarcity and demands on the part of the relatively privileged. The more advantaged urban centers are loath to see any slowing of their development; not surprisingly, therefore, they continue to claim their fair share of the expendi-
[78] Martin Staniland, The Lions of Dagbon: Political Change in Northern Ghana (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1975), pp. 44–45.
[79] (Accra: Ghana Publishing Corp., n.d.), p. 5.
[80] Republic of Ghana. Guidelines for the Five- Year Development Plan 1975–80 (Accra: Ghana Publishing Corp., 1975), p. 27.
[81] Republic of Ghana. Third Year in Office of Colonel Ignatius Kutu Acheampong (Accra: Press Secretary to the National Redemption Council, 1975), p. 117.
tures made by governmental authorities. Thus increasing subsidies of petroleum, mainly consumed in the privileged regions, mean less resources remaining for the development of vitally needed feeder roads in northern and upper regions. And as shown in Table 3, the heavy public expenditures on defense, internal and foreign affairs, and fiscal and financial services leaves all too little for investments in agriculture, rural development, and feeder roads, all required in large amounts for the development of the northern parts of the country. These expenditures by function represent a triumph of incrementalism over comprehensive planning. Thus despite all the promises involved in Operation Feed Yourself, the commitment to agriculture remained little affected in the period 1970–1975, and that for rural development and transporation declined significantly. Again the contrast between outputs and outcomes was noticeable.
The reorganization strategy tends to integrate the society by accommodating pluralistic claims, and creates something akin to a "bargaining culture," which places constraints on the application of egalitarian policies.[82] The problem of revenue allocation in Nigeria is a case in point. Nigeria's independence constitution was a remarkable combination of centralized financial and taxing authority and decentralized administrative responsibility.[83] The federal government had exclusive power to impose excise duties as well as taxes on imports and exports, corporation profits, and mining rents and royalties. The only subregional taxes of significance were on individual incomes,
[82] See Gabriel A. Almond's foreword to Myron Weiner, The Politics of Scarcity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962), p. ix. Also see Carl G. Rosberg, "National Identity in African States," African Review 1, no. 1 (March 1971): 85–87; and B. J. Dudley, Instability and Political Order: Politics and Crisis in Nigeria (Ibadan: Ibadan University Press, 1973), p. 43.
[83] For a fuller account of revenue allocation and Nigerian federalism, see Donald Rothchild, "African Federations and the Diplomacy of Decolonization," Journal of Developing Areas 4, no. 4 (July 1970): 520–22. Also see John F. Due, Taxation and Economic Development in Tropical Africa (Cambridge, Mass.: M.I.T. Press, 1963), pp. 127–33; and P. N. C. Okigbo, Nigerian Public Finance (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1965), pp. 50–66.
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produce, and motor vehicles, leaving the subregional treasuries dependent on federal grants for two-thirds of their recurrent revenues. The relations between Nigerian governments at and within each level were strained over the states' lack of financial independence and over the allocation of federally collected revenues. It seems likely that future increases in property and personal income taxes as well as increased payments under the distributable pool arrangement would have narrowed the gap between revenues and expenditures. However, federal unwillingness to make major concessions on this question remained evident to the end.[84]
The refusal of federal officials to allocate any further revenue to the subregions contributed directly to interunit conflicts over both principles and interests. Distribution of federally collected revenues was based on the two principles of derivation and need. Derivation was favored from the inception of genuine federalism in 1954 until the implementation of the Raisman Commission recommendations in 1958. At that time, it was the eastern regional government, not its more affluent partners, which urged the Raisman Commission to support the principle of subregional need. The commission compromised between these two principles, applying derivation to revenues whose source could be estimated with some degree of accuracy, and applying need to the remaining revenues; henceforth the latter were to be allocated by means of a distributable pool arrangement. Subregional attitudes changed with the discovery of commercial quantities of oil in the east. From then on, eastern government spokesmen campaigned with increasing vigor to be permitted to retain revenues raised in the area. The government of eastern Nigeria submitted a memorandum on revenue allocation to the 1964 fiscal review commissioner stating that the system of revenue allocation then operating had proved "extremely unreasonable, unfair and inequitable" and
[84] Federal Republic of Nigeria, Report of the Fiscal Review Commission, by K. J. Binns, Commissioner (Lagos: Federal Ministry of Information, 1965), p. 11; Adebayo Adedeji, Nigerian Federal Finance (New York: Africana Publishing Co., 1969), chap. 6; and T. O. Ilugbuhi, "The Future of Government Revenue in Nigeria," Nigerian Opinion 4, no. 4–6 (April–June 1968): 331–33.
that all revenue from royalties and rents on mineral oil should be returned to the unit of origin.[85] Two years later, at the resumed conference on the Nigerian constitution, the eastern regional government maintained that "the Central Authority shall have no fiscal or taxing powers. All fiscal or taxing powers shall be vested in the Regions."[86]
Implementing a revenue allocation system based largely on the principle of need rather than derivation has always seemed compelling. The attitudes expressed by the magazine Nigerian Opinion on this issue are widely held:
The main criterion for revenue allocation was the derivation principle which since 1952 has been a constant and endless source of friction. It intensified inter-regional rivalry and antagonism. Most important, resource allocation was not related to needs and the most needy region was invariably also the region that received least under a system of revenue allocation based primarily on derivation.[87]
Even so, it has proved extremely difficult to put the revenue allocation principle of need into effect in a reorganizational polity such as Nigeria. With the military coups of 1966, the new regime gained an excellent opportunity for decisive action in constitutional matters. It used its new position to create the twelve-state (later nineteen) federal system,[88] thereby reducing the autonomy of the old subregional governments. However, it did not act swiftly -to make any serious modification in the principle of derivation, as reportedly recommended by the commission under the chairmanship of Chief I. O. Dina in 1968.[89] 'The result of the federal military government's recon-
[85] Binns, Report of the Fiscal Review Commission, p. 13.
[86] The Ad Hoc Conference on the Nigerian Constitution (Enugu: Government Printer, 1966), p. 85.
[87] Vol. 2, no. 2 (February 1966), p. 20.
[88] In February 1976, General Murtala Muhammed, Nigeria's head of state, announced plans to create seven additional states. Moreover, all nineteen states were to be given new names in order to erase old memories and attachments.
[89] The Dina report, never published, is said to have proposed that the oil-producing regions should derive 10 percent, rather than 50 percent, of royalties and rents. The Dina report's recommendations were subsequently rejected in 1969 by the Nigerian finance commissioners who contended that the Dina commission had "exceeded its powers andignored its terms of reference." Africa Confidential 15, no. 10 (May 17, 1974): 6.
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ciliation strategy was a status quo stance at a time when the inequities and inadequacies in interunit allocations continued to worsen. As shown in Table 4, the oil-producing Mid-Western and Rivers states were heavily favored under the revenue allocation system then being administered. But the disparities caused by this formula led to new dissatisfactions in intergovernmental relationships. For example, the New Nigerian, published in the less-advantaged north, observed that the revenue allocation system then in effect "threaten [ed] to create a new imbalance" since "allocation to individual states reveal[ed] wide disparities because the derivation principle puts the 'oil states' at an enhanced advantage."[90] To some extent these dissatisfactions were dealt with by the military government in 1974 when a new revenue allocation formula was announced; this formula deemphasized the derivation principle by allocating money to state governments, 50 percent on the basis of population and 50 percent on the basis of equality. Such a revision of priorities
[90] Ibid., pp. 5–6.
goes far toward promoting the interests of the non-oilproducing states, and no doubt it will be closely scrutinized by any future Constituent Assembly.
Another important area of pragmatism on the part of those states adopting a reorganization strategy is their policy on the nationalization of the "commanding heights" of the economy. These states are more inclined to pursue nationalization policies than their critics are prepared to acknowledge. In Zaire, Gecamines, the state corporation, had produced 51 percent and 32 percent of all budgetary resources in 1970 and 1971, respectively;[91] the following year, President Mobutu Sese Seko announced a further extension of the public domain to include plantations, livestock, and a 50 percent ownership in the remaining mining companies.[92] Kenya acquired a 51.4 percent shareholding in East African Power and Lighting Co. Ltd., a 50 percent shareholding in the Mombasa Oil Refinery, and a 60 percent shareholding in two new banks formed from the assets of the National and Grindlays Bank in Kenya.[93] As of April 1, 1973, the Nigerian government acquired a 35 percent equity in Shell-BP and several other oil-producing firms, rising to a majority holding by 1982.[94] Perhaps the most thoroughgoing program of nationalization among the reorganization polities was carried out by the Zambian government. In the period from 1968 to 1970, President Kaunda announced a sweeping series of economic reforms, which included the partial or total nationalization of such fields as mining, transportation, contracting, insurance, and so forth.[95] By 1971, the Kaunda
[91] Alan Rake, "Waiting for the Copper Dividends," African Development 7, no. 6 (June 1973): Z5.
[92] West Africa, December 10, 1973, p. 1719.
[93] Rothchild, Racial Bargaining, p. 437.
[94] West Africa, June 18, 1973, p. 818.
[95] Zambia's program of state participation in business activities is outlined in three addresses by Dr. K. D. Kaunda: Republic of Zambia, Zambia's Economic Revolution, Mulungushi, April 19, 1968 (Lusaka: Zambia Information Services, n.d.); Republic of Zambia, Towards Complete Independence, Matero, August 11, 1969 (Lusaka: Zambia Information Services, n.d.); and This Completes Economic Reforms: "Now Zambia Is Ours," Mulungushi, November 10, 1970 (Lusaka: Zambia Information Services, n.d.).
administration had assumed control over eighty major or minor business firms. The costs of compensation involved in taking over the copper mines gives some insight into the fiscal burdens brought on by a restructuring of the economy. The cost of purchasing 51 percent of the shares of Nchanga Consolidated Copper Mines is K125 million, and the amount of the Roan Consolidated Mines shares comes to K84 million.[96] Payment is being made from future dividends, covering a twelve-year period in the case of NCCM and an eight-year period for RCM.
Yet the nationalization of major industries in these countries should not be interpreted as a rejection of foreign capital investment. As the background note to Dr. Kaunda's Mulungushi address of 1968 explained, the measures announced in the president's speech fell "far short of nationalisation as conventionally known."[97] Rather than precluding foreign investment, nationalization, pragmatically applied, may facilitate external participation by removing many of the uncertainties associated with investment in Third World countries. Surely all of the states adopting a reorganization strategy have gone far, some contend too far, in reaching accommodations with international capitalism. A dramatic case in point is the agreement on the nationalization of the Zambian mining industry. In exchange for continued operation of the industry, the mining companies or their local subsidiaries were paid compensation for the value of the shares acquired (through the medium of Zambia Industrial and Mining Corporation Limited 6% Guaranteed Dollar bonds),[98] permitted to remain as minority shareholders and, to the extent called on to do so, to contribute from funds not subject to Zambian exchange control a 36 3/4 percent share of the capital finance for the development of existing or new mining ventures, and granted contracts to undertake management, consultancy, and marketing services. Such arrangements for provision of services, set up for a minimum of five years, gave management handsome rewards for minimal risks. In making such concessions to investor demands, the government was
[96] Times of Zambia (Ndola) Business Review, June 25, 1971, p. 2.
[97] Zambia's Economic Revolution, p. V.
[98] In 1973, the Zambian government redeemed the ZIMCO bonds with over ZK114m. Eurodollar and other loans.
emphasizing economic stability at a possible price in reallocative equity.
Finally, in keeping with their reformist posture, the states adopting a reorganization strategy have generally taken strong foreign policy positions on issues of nonalignment and panAfricanism. On questions of colonialism or white racism, there is little to differentiate their policies from those put forth by the states adopting a transformationalist strategy. However, in other areas, perhaps as a consequence of their intimate ties with the world economic system, one can detect a note of caution.
Using Kenya as a prime example of pragmatism in foreign affairs matters, one can start with the words of the former minister of foreign affairs himself to illustrate the country's "low profile" stance.[99] Thus Dr. Njoroge Mungai asserted: "The Government does not set for itself hastily exaggerated objectives in foreign policy which are unrealistic and incapable of being fulfilled. Political fulmination and adoption of extreme policies which are later abandoned or withdrawn or reversed by force of circumstances is not Kenya Government practice in foreign policy." [100] In line with this cautious approach, Mungai outlined the four tenets on which his country's external policy is based: nonalignment; support for the purposes and principles of the United Nations Charter; promotion of African unity, independence, and cooperation; and disarmament. Kenya, in other words, does not seek a radical restructuring of the world order, but seeks rather the more limited objectives of advancing her "national interest" through the promotion of trade, economic assistance, foreign investment, links with neighboring countries through the East African Community, and the securing of her territorial integrity. [101] To be sure, Kenya did pay a substantive cost when forbidding commercial dealings in South
[99] John J. Okumu, "Some Thoughts on Kenya's Foreign Policy," African Review 3, no. 2 (June 1973): 263. On this, Foreign Minister N. Mungai declared: "Kenya today enjoys a position of international esteem and importance because of the pragmatic policies that have been followed under dynamic leadership. Avoiding emotional reactions to given situations, Kenya has placed the welfare of her people above dogmatic ideologies," Daily Nation (Nairobi), December 12, 1973, p. XVI.
[100] East African Standard (Nairobi), December 13, 1971, p. 6.
[101] On Kenya's role in forging East African Community links, seeDonald Rothchild, Politics of Integration: An East African Documentary (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1968).
African goods as well as exports to the Union in the mid-1960s. Particularly hard hit by this action was the Magadi Soda Company, which had exported one-half of its total sales of soda ash (110,899 tons) to South Africa in the 1962–63 fiscal year. As a result of the boycott, the Magadi plant worked in 1965 at 40 percent of capacity and its African staff was cut from 405 to 240. [102] Moreover, Dr. Mungai can validly claim "never [to have] minced words" on such critical issues as Rhodesia, apartheid, Portuguese fascism, Namibia, the sale of arms to South Africa, sovereignty over natural resources, disarmament, and "sea-bed questions." Even so, these are not stances that challenge the basic international order that Kenya seeks to remain a part of; rather, a strong stand on these issues is easily reconciled with (and even furthers) a pragmatic diplomatic policy. Thus on the central question of nonalignment itself, one able observer has commented on the country's decidedly cautious contacts with the Eastern bloc countries. "Although she maintains smooth diplomatic relations with East Europe and the People's Republic of China," declares John J. Okumu, "she has consistently been very reluctant to receive substantial economic or technical assistance from these countries." [103] Okumu's conclusion pretty well sums up the basic feature explaining foreign policy pragmatism in all of the reorganization states: "Thus if the general pattern of external private and public capital inflows is in part an indicator of the general ideological preference of Kenya's governing elite, then Western capitalism has a lot to do with its pragmatic orientation to the practice of non-alignment. Kenya's position seems to be that it is possible to be economically aligned but ideologically non-committed on cold-war issues." [104]
The Transformation Strategy
In contrast to the strategies of accommodation and reorganization, the transformation strategy has at its essence a commitment to break the inherited pattern of structural dependency and to reconvert the society
[102] Reporter (Nairobi), December 3, 1965, p. 17.
[103] East African Standard (Nairobi), December 13, 1971, p. 6.
[104] Okumu, "Some Thoughts on Kenya's Foreign Policy," p. 289.
to certain traditional ideas, values, and life-styles. As noted above, the difference between the states using a transformation strategy (Tanzania, Guinea, and Somalia, and newly independent Angola and Mozambique) and the others, however, does not lie in the objective economic and social welfare conditions currently prevailing. For instance, the lack of product diversification and proportion of physicians to the population as a whole in the states tending to use a transformation strategy are not unlike many of the states adopting an accommodation strategy. And in the category of below-average earnings per head Tanzania ($74 per head in 1969) is in a group with such states as Mali ($85), Guinea ($77), Ethiopia ($62), Benin ($71), Upper Volta ($50), Niger ($95), Chad ($78), Rwanda ($45), Burundi ($53), Somalia ($62), Uganda ($96), Malawi ($69), Lesotho ($75), and others.[105] Thus the states adopting a transformation strategy are unique not in their environmental circumstances but in their determination to end their dependency on the Western-dominated economic system. They abhor the competitiveness and acquisitiveness that they view as inherent in a capitalist life-style and wish to substitute in its stead a "communocratic" tradition, one which emphasizes collective living and social solidarity.[106] While specifically rejecting such concepts as the class struggle, transformationalist spokesmen find certain Marxist theories attractive precisely because they carry with them a rejection of Western capitalism on the one hand and a collectivist inspiration on the other. As Brian Crozier remarks with respect to Guinea's president, Sékou Touré: "Marxism has contracted an emotional and intellectual marriage within him to a dimly felt awareness of African communal
[105] By contrast the states with above average earnings per head of population shows Senegal ($225); Ivory Coast ($304); Gabon ($550); Congo (Brazzaville) ($201); Zaire ($280); Ghana ($288); Kenya ($127); Sierra Leone ($177); Zambia ($345); and so forth Timothy Curtin, "Africa and The European Common Market," Africa: South of the Sahara (London: Europa Publications Ltd., 1974), pp. 53–55; and United Nations, Statistical Yearbook 1972 (New York: United Nations, 1973), Table 187.
[106] L. Gray Cowan, "Guinea," in Gwendolen M. Carter (ed.) African One-Party States (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1962), p. 193. Also see Sékou Touré, The Doctrine and Methods of the Democratic Party of Guinea, Part I (Conakry: Democratic Party of Guinea, n.d.), p. 51.
traditions."[107] Sékou Touré, the inspiration leader par excellence, makes extensive use of ideology in an effort to overcome the contaminations of the past and to forge a new Guinean man.
Even though the transformationalist states came to independence with environmental constraints basically similar to those in the other countries (and most particularly the less advantaged ones), they do differ from the more prosperous reorganization-oriented states in certain critical ways. These divergencies help to explain some variances in policy-making styles that would otherwise be difficult to account for. Trade statistics, albeit partial in nature, show Zambia to be more dependent on exports and imports to the nine European Common Market countries than is its neighbor, Tanzania (see Table 5). And because Zambians consider their country to be more dependent and intertwined with the world economy than its more rural and agriculturally based neighbor, they are more cautious in redefining their relationship to the multinational corporations in their midst. In addition, such caution carries with it an implicit acceptance of an element of privilege for the modern sector during the transition toward extensive equalization. Thus Zambia's strategy of reorganization, geared to local needs and conditions, is less drastic in its objectives, costs, and regulations than that assumed in Tanzania. The Zambian doctrine of reorganization has entailed a heavy emphasis on Zambianization and nationalization (total as well as partial) in the industrial sector and on the establishment of small industries and workshops; large-scale expenditure on marketing and storage facilities, feeder roads, and social services; and the encouragement of cooperative societies and credit unions in the rural areas. Yet Zambia's inevitable reliance on the production of copper for export rather than agriculture as the mainstay of
[107] Quoted in Cowan, "Guinea," p. 189. Also see Ali A. Mazrui, "The Soldier, the Socialist, and the Soul of Development: Amin and Nyerere in Comparative Perspective," a paper presented to the Conference on "Dependence and Development in Africa," Ottawa, February 16–18, 1973, pp. 19–22. On President Syaad Barre's assertion of "scientific socialism," see Philippe Decraene, "Somalia Goes It Alone," Manchester Guardian Weekly 112, no. 15 (April 12, 1975): 13.
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national revenues tends to make the system reformist rather than revolutionary. By contrast, Tanzania, with lower levels of industralization and urbanization, is less dependent on the Western capitalist world in terms of economic activity. Other environmental factors enabling the Tanzanian leadership to implement, in part at least, a transformation strategy include the unity of the Tanzanian people behind their leaders (attributable largely to the success of the Tanzanian African National Union in mobilizing the people in the struggle against British colonial rule), the country's assured access to world commerce, and its relative insulation from Rhodesian and South African power.
In principle at least, the transformation model involves a complete rejection of exploitative and humiliating links to the capitalist (and once the colonialist) economy. Under current conditions of poverty and national weakness, argues Tanzania's president, Julius K. Nyerere, socialism is the "only rational choice" in the African countries.[108] "In practice," contends Nyerere, "Third World nations cannot become developed capitalist societies without surrendering the reality of their freedom and without accepting a degree of inequality between their citizens which would deny the moral validity of our independence struggle."[109] Why does capitalism entail a loss of freedom for countries in the Third World? Nyerere answers this
[108] Julius K. Nyerere, Freedom and Development (London: Oxford University Press, 1973), p. 382.
[109] Ibid., p. 381.
query by observing that "Third World capitalism would have no choice except to co-operate with external capitalism, as a very junior partner."[110] Development through capitalism would mean a reliance on foreign money, skill, and enterprise; decisions would be made externally on such important questions as taxation, plant location, production priorities, and employment opportunities. Countries such as Tanzania would, as a consequence, remain structurally dependent on the former colonial power (or alliance of powers), losing the value of independence in the process. The alternative model of development, socialism, would surmount many of these difficulties by severing its ties with international capitalism.
The vital point is that the basis of socialist organization is the meeting of people's needs, not the making of profit. The decision to devote the nation's resources to the production of one thing rather than another is made in the light of what is needed, not what is most profitable. Furthermore, such decisions are made by the people through their responsible institutions—their own government, their own industrial corporations, their own commercial institutions. They are not made by a small group of capitalists, either local or foreign—and the question of foreign domination through economic ownership is thus excluded.[111]
Although Nyerere does not deny that an African state adopting a socialist model of development will encounter difficulties along the way, he does deny that any of these problems (exploitative management contracts, inherited structural linkages, dynamism of capitalist initiative and techniques) are inherent for socialism. Socialism, then, is the prime means at the disposal of Third World countries for transforming their societies in an egalitarian, self-reliant, indigenously manned and controlled, and productive direction.
As noted above, Nyerere places a high priority on expanding productivity within a socialist context (the GDP increased by 5 percent in 1972—4 percent in 1971—at constant prices);[112] however, social welfare and "equity" objectives always receive at least an equal emphasis in his formulation of
[110] Ibid., p. 384.
[111] Ibid., pp. 388–89.
[112] Edwin Mtei, "Third Plan: Call for Increased Investment and Productivity," African Development 7, no. 12 (December 1973): T27.
developmental programs. Thus in contrast with the growth-oriented states, transformationalist Tanzania stresses simultaneous multiple goals: social equality, Ujamaa (familyhood), self-reliance, economic and social transformation, and African economic integration.[113] Nyerere is willing, if necessary, to accept a slowing in the rate of economic expansion in order to assure a broad sharing of increased opportunity among the populace at large as well as freedom from the hold that Western capitalism might otherwise exercise. Nyerere maintains that a policy of economic self-reliance produces genuine progress,[114] not a distorted type of growth which benefits the bourgeosie alone:
Despite our great need for economic development, it is not the only thing our people and our nation need. We do need it. We need it because only when we increase the amount of wealth we produce in Tanzania will there be any chance of the mass of our people living decent lives, free from the threat of hunger, or want of clothing, and free from ignorance, or disease. But we also need other things too. We need to live harmoniously among ourselves; we need to safeguard our society, we need to respect ourselves and deserve the respect of others. These things are equally important.[115] [Our italics.]
President Nyerere seeks a transformation of the rural areas, the establishment of Ujamaa villages, the de-emphasis of urban privilege and wealth, a complete overhaul of the educational system, and a variety of puritanical measures aimed at eliminating luxury and ostentation. He and his supporters ridicule what they describe as "perverse growth," namely, economic expansion on African soil which benefits international capitalism more than the local economy of the developing state.[116]
[113] The United Republic of Tanzania, Tanzania Second Five-Year Plan for Economic and Social Development, 1st July, 1969–30th June, 1974, vol. I (Dar es Salaam: Government Printer, 1969), p. 1.
[114] Julius K. Nyerere, Freedom and Socialism (London: Oxford University Press, 1968), p. 272.
[115] Ibid., p. 199.
[116] Giovanni Arrighi and John Saul, "Socialism and Economic Development," Journal of Modern African Studies 6, no. 2 (August 1968): 150–51. Also see Immanuel Wallerstein, "The Range of Choice" in Michael F. Lofchie (ed.), The State of the Nations: Constraints on Development in Independent Africa (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1971), pp. 28–29.
Yet even while rejecting industrial development based essentially on foreign initiative, Tanzanians continue to welcome foreign capital and skills that are willingly contributed toward fulfilling the government's objectives of building a socialist economy. Thus of the total development expenditure of Sh 800 million spent in 1971–72, Sh 330 million (or 41 percent) were foreign in origin.[117] Not only does the private sector remain of critical importance in such areas as housing and road transport and construction, but foreign private and public shareholding is still evident in a variety of National Development Corporation activities.[118]
With regard to the goal of securing freedom from external control, a strategy of socialist self-reliance creates a number of foreign policy options. Nyerere's commitment to self-reliance springs in part from his doubts about attracting sufficient foreign resources for rapid industrialization.
Quite apart from the problems of unacceptable political conditions which possible donors have tried to attach to capital assistance, and which have caused us to receive less than we at one time hoped, there are hard facts to be faced about the amount of international aid likely to be available. . . . In terms of goods, aid has decreased—and there is no sign that this trend will suddenly change.
There is no choice for us. We shall be thankful for any outside assistance we receive, but we must not expect it. The only people we can rely upon are ourselves.[119]
Self-reliance increases foreign policy options by reducing a sense of urgency over foreign aid. A country pursuing such a line of action accepts whatever is offered generously and fits with local needs, but it does not gear its development efforts to the liberality of other countries. In addition, a lack of economic dependency enabled Tanzania to take radical and socialist-oriented stances on foreign policy issues, to champion nonalignment, and to take militant pan-African positions. In 1966, for example, the Tanzanian government broke off diplomatic relations with Great Britain over her handling of the Rhodesian
[117] Mtei, "Third Plan," p. T27.
[118] See Issa G. Shivji, "Tanzania—The Silent Class Struggle," in Lionel Cliffe and John S. Saul (eds.), Socialism in Tanzania, vol. 2 (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1973), pp. 304–30.
[119] Freedom and Socialism, pp. 166–67.
crisis. Tanzania felt it necessary to take an uncompromising position on NIBMAR ("no independence before majority African rule"), because it feared the possibility of a British sellout to the minority European community in Rhodesia. But the severing of relations with the former metropolitan country was not without costs. Although Tanzanians could not make an overall assessment of the economic costs of this action, they did note that the freezing of a loan of £7.5 million had created difficulties in fulfilling the Development Plan. Moreover, the refusal to bow to West German pressures to bar the opening of an East German consulate general's office in Dar es Salaam in 1964 led to a unilateral termination of a West German training and aid agreement. For Nyerere the choice was again clear: "We could either accept dictation from West Germany and continue to receive economic aid until the next time we proposed to do something they did not like, or we could maintain our policies and lose the aid immediately."[120] The Tanzanians were in a position to select the latter alternative because the strategy of socialist self-reliance had already reduced the costs of external dependence to a low level; self-reliance had expanded policy options by playing down the role of foreign economic participation at the outset.
Of course, each strategy—accommodation, reorganization, and transformation—entails different trade-offs (see Figures 16 and 17, p. 323). Nyerere is keenly aware of the fact that a radical domestic and foreign policy stance inevitably involves costs in terms of external investments, skills, initiative, and markets. Foreign investment declined from a proposed 78 percent during the first five-year plan to a mere 31 percent of the reduced total—a drop largely attributed to Tanzania's then somewhat hesitant moves toward a socialist orientation.[121] In addition, an emphasis on equity may well incur costs with respect to urban industrialization and rapid economic growth. But the alternative strategies, with their reliance on international capitalist initiative, seem morally repugnant to the transformationalists for reasons of equity, dignity,
[120] Ibid., p. 190.
[121] Phil Raikes, "Tanzania Blazes Its Own Trail," African Development 7, no. 12 (December 1973): T11.
and self-determination. On the other hand, the accommodationalists and the reorganizationalists feel they have no alternative but to maintain close linkages with the external capitalist economy. Nevertheless, whereas the accommodationalists, such as Togo, Botswana, and Burundi, are too weak to bargain meaningfully with the international environment, the states adopting a reorganization strategy can set certain conditions on the relationship. In the larger perspective, to be sure, the reorganizationalists are structurally dependent on international capitalism; even so, they are in a position to modify some of the most irritating and demeaning aspects of their relationship through the enactment of measures of regulation, progressive taxation, and participation (i.e., partial or total nationalization). Being more central to the world economy, and therefore having more capital and skills at their disposal as well as greater access to international markets, the reorganizationalists are at the best vantage point to demand concessions from powerful states as well as transnational actors such as the multinational corporations. But irrespective of these concessions, the exchange remains an unequal one, and the African political system, which preserves its ties with the world capitalistic economy in order to maximize its economic advantages, shapes its choice on a variety of basic internal and external issues to adjust to the demands of international actors. Hence an intimate relationship with international capitalism involves certain intended and unintended consequences which need not be assumed by the states adopting a strategy of socialist self-reliance.
Goals, Rules, and Collective Choice to Cope with Scarcity
The appendix to Chapter 1 indicated that a community's capacity to produce items is limited by the scarcity of resources and by the state of industrial technology. The production possibility frontier is a depiction of the more complicated reality posed against each society in its quest to reach some "more preferred" situation—an indifference curve positioned farther from the zero-intercept. That is, transitive preferences mean that the society will attempt to reach the highest attain-
able community indifference curve. Scarcity in Africa is an imposing problem; its limensions require effective policies to cope with the persistent pressures that scarcity puts on African decision-makers and their peoples.
A political economy approach to analyzing rules, procedures, and national goals cannot overlook the fundamental necessity to make economic choices because of scarcities of physical resources as well as other elements required to produce goods and services. Producing and distributing outputs are key factors in attaining the system goals posited in the previous chapters. In this regard, an extremely poor country finds it more difficult to bear the consequences of inefficiency than one possessing more ample capabilities. Clearly, poorer countries lack the same margin for error: they cannot afford the same level of misuse in the allocation of scarce productive factors to investment and consumption. In effect, equitable distribution and efficient productive processes are necessary to enhance the standards of material well-being of the society at large.
Resources must be allocated to purposes which maximize the greatest possible good—that is, to where they lead to outputs of items that the community feels are most important or necessary. Resources must be used efficiently so as to increase the availability of the items desired or needed by people. When relatively poor countries make mistakes in resource allocations, their peoples have to pay very high "opportunity costs." By opportunity cost we mean that in order to produce a quantity of one consumable (X) the cost is the lost opportunity to produce a quantity of an alternative product (Y). And if resources are inefficiently used to produce (X), more of (Y) will be forgone to consumers. Wasted or misused resources do not lead to the maximum production of items that people—require perhaps desperately. Since people can consume more items in a richer (albeit somewhat inefficient) country, waste may be more tolerable. However, many African countries presently are among the world's lowest per capita income earners. As producers and consumers of material goods and services, their main economic difficulties derive from limited utilizable resources and productive technology. This economic frailty gives rise to low per capita incomes and low levels of per capita output. For
example, fifteen African countries (all classified above as adopting accommodation or transformation strategies) have per capita incomes so low that the United Nations depicts them as among the twenty-five least developed of the developing countries. Only the crudest of estimates exist on recent levels of national income and gross domestic product. The data show, for example, that in 1970 Botswana's national income approximated $50 million (gross domestic product was $55 million, and between 1970 and 1973, each measure seems likely to have grown by about $5 million). On the basis of current population estimates, the 1973 level of national income would indicate a per capita income of some $90 to $100 annually. The classification of least developed is based on United Nations General Assembly Resolution No. 2768 (XXVI), and the African countries so described include Botswana as well as Burundi, Chad, Dahomey (Benin), Ethiopia, Guinea, Lesotho, Malawi, Mali, Niger, Rwanda, Somalia, Sudan, Tanzania, and Upper Volta.
Although the above-mentioned are the poorest of African countries, all states on the continent face situations of resource scarcity. The following chapters focus on three major policy options for coping with resource limitations. The first is more effective bargaining with multinational corporations. Such a process seeks to improve the terms on which African host countries grant concessions to foreign-based corporations. The power and flexibility of the companies indeed makes this a difficult task. Yet an overly pessimistic view in this respect can lead African governments to assume that they have fewer bargaining advantages than they actually have. There is some sign that bargaining can be an effective way to acquire added resources for development; for example, technology more appropriate to African resource endowments, improved revenuecollection potentials for the governments, better financial agreements with respect to foreign-exchange acquisitions;[122] and more favorable climates for local income and formal employment opportunities for Africans.[123] In the concluding
[122] See, for example, Robert L. Curry, Jr., "Problems in Exportbased Public Revenue Collections in Zambia and Liberia," Journal of World Trade Law 9, no. 6 (November/December 1975): 678–90.
[123] It has been argued that African governments have become improved bargainers. See F. E. Banks, "Multinational Firms in AfricanEconomic Development," Journal of World Trade Law 9, no. 3 (May/June 1975): 347–54. This does not imply that more effective bargaining is not needed, and we feel that improvements in bargaining terms are possible. See our "On Economic Bargaining between African Governments and Multinational Companies," Journal of Modern African Studies 12, no. 2 (June 1974): 173–90. Theodore Moran makes the point that bargaining terms are not made strictly by omnipotent multinational giants or single decision-makers called "host countries." In many cases they are conditioned by elements of the international environment—international market factors and dimensions of foreign economic policy. See his Multinational Corporations and the Politics of Dependence: Copper in Chile (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1975).
chapter we shall develop the concept of asymmetrical bargaining, applying it to relations between producer cartels and global consumers as well as between multinational companies and African host countries.
The second policy option involves improved methods of economic cooperation or integration. The newly formed Economic Community of West African states employs a minimalist strategy to secure cooperation,among member states on matters of mutual interest and on issues for which there are reasonable chances for success. The Lomé agreement is another aspect of a more minimalist approach to cooperation on a program of limited objectives.[124] An important aspect of the agreement is to make increased financial resources available to African nations. And the third of our three options.—which by no means exhausts the range of strategies for resource expansion—deals with foreign economic assistance which is appropriate to economic development but which avoids the extremes of economic dependency.[125]
Each of the three policy options is designed to increase the
[124] It has been argued that the Lomé agreement is a new stage in relations between the EEC and the nations that are to be the beneficiaries to the agreement's provisions, including the members of the Yaoundé and Arusha groups. The Lomé arrangement presents new innovations on trade and export earning provisions, industrial cooperation, and stabilization of commodity export earnings. See Alfred S. Friedeberg, "The Lomé Agreement: Co-operation Rather than Confrontation," Journal of World Trade Law 9, no. 6 (November/December 1975): 691–700.
[125] See Paul Streeten, Aid to Africa: A Policy Outline for the 1970's, (New York, Praeger: 1972); and Jacob Meerman, "The Effectiveness of Foreign Aid," Journal of Modern African Studies 10, no. 2 (July 1972): 290–94.
income and resource level available to African states. As such, each is an effort designed to move a community to a conceptually higher level of satisfaction; that is, from indifference curve I1 to I2 , as in the appendix to the first chapter. This is permitted by an expansion in production possibilities (P1 to P2 ), and added income (to B2 ), as shown in the appendix. In effect, more resources and income are required because of policy options undertaken within dependency situations. Our focus is on what can be done within such constraints, as well as what can be done about them.[126] Given this focus, our effort is pertinent to those situations where policy-makers on the continent act on behalf of African people, but not to those where a decision-making elite acts in its own economic, political, and social interests while ignoring the plight of people generally.[127] However, we feel that this is essentially an African matter, and we agree with the contention that the responsibility for new policy directions rests with African leaders.[128]
[126] For an analysis of the need to continue refining dependency theory for policy purposes, see Patrick J. McGowan, "Economic Performance and Economic Dependence in Black Africa," Journal of Modern African Studies 14, no. 1 (March 1976): 25–40.
[127] For example, the expansion of MNCs has been seen as essentially fitting the interests of foreign-home and African-host country elites in economic class terms. See Richard L. Sklar, "Postimperialism: A Class Analysis of Multinational Corporate Expansion," Comparative Politics 9, no. 1 (October 1976): 75–92.
[128] See G. K. Helleiner, "Beyond Growth Rates and Planned Volumes—Planning for Africa in the 1970s,"Journal of Modern African Studies 10, no. 3 (October 1972): 356.
Appendix
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PART III—
IMPLEMENTING POLICY CHOICES FOR DEVELOPMENT
Chapter 4—
Global Market Contacts:
Bargaining between Multinational Companies and African Governments
There exists a range of economic issues that come about because of the kinds of bargains that African governments make (or refuse to make) with multinational companies (MNCs). A more direct focus on what factors determine these bargaining outcomes is important because the activities of multinational companies provide primary sources of economic contact between African countries and the industrialized world. The companies' operations in both resource and product markets are often influenced by impositions made, or not made, by host governments in Africa. Such impositions result from bargaining between governments and companies in which each negotiating agent is intent upon obtaining the most preferred conditions—and these are affected by variables that occupy the central focus of our analysis. First, we describe the modern multinational corporation and the way in which it attempts to bridge the gap between global technological needs and the divided world order. Second, we outline what we
believe are crucial variables that affect bargaining outcomes: that is particular instances at the state, regional, and global levels where the critical variables appear to be influential, and we explore how closer concentration on these variables might lead to more preferential outcomes from the viewpoint of African governments.
Bridging the Gap between Nationalism and Global Technology
Certainly there is nothing new about large organizations engaging in international trade. Such joint-stock companies as the East India Company and the Royal African Company were a characteristic feature of mercantilist trading relations, and they carried on broadly-based commercial activities with much of what currently makes up the Third World. Yet despite the far-flung nature of their commercial activities, these joint-stock companies cannot validly be described as the forerunners of the modern multinational corporation. In Stephen Hymer's opinion, the joint-stock company differed from today's MNC in not creating a modern industrial division of labor—the foundation stone on which twentieth century productivity is based. For Hymer, "the hallmarks of the new system were the market and the factory. . . . In the factory entrepreneurs consciously plan and organize cooperation, and the relationships are hierarchical and authoritarian; in the market coordination is achieved through a decentralized, unconscious, competitive process."[1] The modern MNC, by uniting the specialization and organized cooperation of the factory with the competition of the global marketplace, is the logical development of the industrial revolution.
How, then, is one to describe the modern MNC? In general, we see at least seven main characteristics as applicable to these enterprises. First, they are transnational in scope, operating in six or more foreign countries.[2] Second, they have foreign
[1] Stephen Hymer, "The Multinational Corporation and the Law of Uneven Development," in J. N. Bhagwati, Economics and World Order from the 1970s to the 1990s (New York: Macmillan, 1972), p. 116.
[2] Some important general works on the transnational operations of MNCs include Raymond Vernon, Sovereignty at Bay (New York: BasicBooks, 1971); Samuel P. Huntington, "Transnational Organizations in World Politics," World Politics 25, no. 3 (April 1973): 336; Robert O. Keohane and Joseph S. Nye, Jr. (eds.), Transnational Relations in World Politics (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972); and especially Richard Barnett and Ronald Muller, Global Reach (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1974).
subsidiaries which account for at least 10 percent of total corporate assets, sales, and labor force. Third, they are gigantic organizations, normally having sales, assets, and numbers of employees two or three times those of median national enterprises.[3] Fourth, they have home bases in the major capitalistic states around the world (see Table 7). Fifth, they are usually found in industries dominated by a few firms (see Table 8). Sixth, they tend to invest substantially in high technology industries, and to devote a considerable proportion of their resources to research and development. Because such activities tend to be highly specialized and productive, these firms are in a position to pay their employees wages which are generally above those prevailing locally. And seventh, although policy and key management decisions are centralized in the main office, some corporation decision-making on local production and marketing is decentralized to the various divisional head offices.
Until after World War II, the extent of MNC investments in Africa, and particularly those of American-based companies, was minimal. In the case of American firms, investments in middle Africa remained negligible until the 1960s. Only in the latter part of that decade did it begin to become a significant factor (see Tables 9 and 10) It is also interesting to note that aggregate MNC investments in manufacturing activities in Africa are extremely low by comparison with other regions of the world (see Table 11).
Certainly the activities of MNCs in Africa involve a complicated calculus of costs and benefits- for the MNC, the base country, and the host country. To start with, the companies engage in what they view as a trade-off between political risks (pressure for increased taxation, regulation, participation, and
[3] See Table 1 in Raymond Vernon, Restrictive Business Practices (New York: United Nations, 1972), p. 2. Also see Surendra J. Patel, "The Technological Dependence of Developing Countries," Journal of Modern African Studies 12, no. 1 (March 1974): 1–18.
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possibly nationalization) and economic incentives. The firm's economic incentives, taken together, are substantial and include some or all of the following: economies of scale, expansion (and proximity) to rapidly growing markets, competitive advantage vis-a-vis other enterprises, the utilization of existing information
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or skills for profit maximization, the employment of low-cost labor, reduced taxes and tariffs, access to favorable equity markets, and the ability to take advantage of favorable exchange rates.[4]
But the companies' benefits are not always fully shared by all sections in the base country. Labor unions may perceive such advantages as the increased sale of goods, an expansion of management opportunities, enhanced corporate profits, additional tax revenues, and so forth to be more than offset from their standpoint by lost employment opportunities for members of their organizations.[5] Efforts on the part of MNCs to mollify labor union hostility by restricting exports to the home-country
[4] See the discussion in Robert O. Keohane and Van D. Ooms, "The Multinational Firm and International Regulation," International Organization 29, No. 1 (Winter 1975): 172–74.
[5] Irving Louis Horowitz, "Capitalism, Communism and Multinationalism," Society 11, no. 2 (January–February, 1974): 39. See also the discussion in R. B. Helfgot, "Multinational Corporations and Manpower Utilization in Developing Nations," Journal of Developing Areas 7, no. 2 (January 1973): 235–46; D. H. Blake, "Trade Unions and the Challenge of the Multinational Corporation," Annals of The American Academy of Political and Social Science, no. 403 (September 1972), pp. 34–45; and Leslie L. Rood, "Foreign Investment in African Manufacturing," Journal of Modern African Studies 13, no. 1 (March 1975): 19–34.
market naturally encounter angry criticism in the countries of the Third World, as a key incentive for accommodating MNCs, in their eyes, is the advantage of expanding markets into the rich world. To some extent this problem should be mitigated over time by increasing product specialization, but in the meantime, worker resistance within the base country will likely remain a source of conflict and ill-will.
The governments of the base countries may also become hesitant over future MNC expansion abroad because of their fear of a loss of control over these enterprises. As large multinational firms consider moving their main headquarters to neutral sites, and the executives of others dream of buying an island for corporate main offices which is "beholden to no nation or society," base-country governments feel increasingly threatened with the prospect of declining influence over the firm's decision-making processes and its operations.[6] And to the extent that they are able to bridge the gap between global technological needs and the decentralized world order, the MNCs run the risk of coming into conflict with their own home governments. A real-life example of this conflict of interest surfaced during the 1973 Arab-Israeli war when the Arabian American Oil Company, on instructions from Saudi Arabia, refused to supply oil to United States military forces around the world. In response to charges of "corporate disloyalty" to the United States, Aramco officials contended that "any deviations from the ground rules by the Aramco owner/buyers would be 'harshly dealt with.' "[7] Clearly, then, the effectiveness of MNCs as global middlemen may involve some potential decline in base-country control—a loss of influence that might well prove a source of frustration and conflict in years to come.[8]
In some circumstances an African country might well have
[6] Quoted in Joseph S. Nye, Jr., "Multinational Corporations in World Politics," Foreign Affairs 53, no. 1 (October 1974): 164.
[7] New York Times, January 26, 1974, p. 14.
[8] The entire range of issues regarding MNCs is discussed in the Annals of The American Academy of Political and Social Science, no. 403, containing essays by O. F. Alger, J. N. Behrman, D. H. Blake, A. W. Clausen, J. Fryerweather, I. B. Krause, J. S. Nye, H. V. Perlmutter, D. M. Ray, R. D. Robinson, P. N. Rogers, R. S. Walters, and B. Mennis and K. P. Souvant. Also see Raymond Vernon, "The Multinational Enterprise: Power versus Sovereignty," Foreign Affairs 49, no. 4 (July 1971): 736–51.
little option but to host an MNC or some other direct investor. Additionally, it might have limited scope for bargaining about concession agreements. "Given the stage of development of Sierra Leone's economy," for example, "the importation of foreign capital and management was at the material time practically the only feasible means of creating technologically advanced [diamond] mines."[9] The result of choosing the direct investment option made Sierra Leone a typical foreign-enclave economy. That is, the foreign-owned companies engaged in primary production for export, with only slight linkages with other economic sectors and with substantial profits after taxes. Even so, it has been argued effectively that there were positive contributions made to Sierra Leone's economy despite the fact that production through technically simple, high-cost, and labor-intensive methods might have brought larger social benefits than those obtained from expatriate diamond-mining ventures. The key point here emphasizes the consideration of all available alternatives in determining the sectors in which foreign investment should be encouraged or discouraged. If there is no alternative to foreign investment, then there is no question about whether to host an MNC or other investor.[10] '
As for most African (and other Third World) states, the alleged economic benefits of MNC investment and marketing have to be carefully weighed against the political, economic, and social disadvantages resulting from foreign corporate activities. By transferring capital and technology, by bringing organizational and managerial skills, and by opening up new export markets for African products, the MNCs help to draw the African polities into the world economy, contributing to their economic growth if not their development. But the costs are often high. In their efforts to promote "efficient" methods of production and distribution, the MNCs have acted as agents of change, undercutting traditional norms, practices, values, and life-styles.[11] In terms of political autonomy, they are viewed as
[9] Tony Killick, "The Benefits of Direct Investment and Its Alternatives," Journal of Development Studies 9, no. 2 (January 1973): 316.
[10] Ibid., pp. 316–17.
[11] New York Times, January 26, 1974, p. 14.
involving substantial costs. By comparison with the base countries in the West, the MNCs have a considerably greater leverage over political life in Third World countries. Their economic centrality, their enormous fiscal capacity, their access to skills and information, and their relative freedom from powerful countervailing interests give them distinct advantages in their dealings with fragile and heavily burdened governmental agencies. As a result, more than one African leader has concluded that an "invisible government" had been created in their country which "represents the commercial interest, largely foreign, whose primary concern is big profits for their shareholders."[12] What this "underground enemy" means in practice, it is contended, is a loss of responsible political control and self-determination. Congolese experience with Union Minière du Haut-Katanga, and Chilean resistance to attempts by the International Telephone and Telegraph Company "to manage our political life," are two salient examples of the lengths to which private firms will go to protect their interests.[13] Suspicions therefore run high. After noting that MNCs have an easy time recruiting local agents and forming front organizations, President Kenneth Kaunda urged his party followers to "guard against any attempts by any corporations to undermine its authority or national sovereignty."[14] In African eyes, the tradeoff of political costs for economic welfare comes at a high price.
But even in the area of economic welfare, the ledger shows costs as well as benefits. Among the most significant of these alleged disadvantages are the following: First, the MNCs limit technology transfer by maintaining a tight hold over research and the resultant knowledge. As one researcher found with respect to the Andean group countries in 1971, 79 percent of wholly owned MNC subsidiaries and 92 percent of nationally
[12] Statement by Jaramogi Oginga Odinga as quoted in C. Gertzel, M. Goldschmidt, and D. Rothchild, Government and Politics in Kenya: A Nation-Building Text (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1969), p. 144.
[13] Conor Cruise O'Brien, To Katanga and Back: A UN Case History (London: Hutchinson, 1962), pp. 101, 174–75; and New York Times, December 5, 1972, p. 1.
[14] Sunday Times of Zambia (Ndola), September 23, 1973, p. 1.
owned firms had placed export prohibitions in their technology contracts with host countries.[15] Second, the technology transferred is often inappropriate to the developmental needs of the host country. The chairman of a United Nations panel on MNCs put this matter thusly: "Multinational corporations are not per se agents of development. The technology they employ, the products they market may not always be the right ones for a developing country."[16] Third, the MNCs do not train a significant number of indigenous people in management, professional, entrepreneurial, and research skills. Fourth, the MNCs transfer little actual capital to the host country; instead they raise funds in local capital markets for plant expansion or the purchase of local enterprises. In addition, a low proportion of profits are reinvested in the host country, thus contributing to national indebtedness and balance of payments difficulties. Sixth, they concentrate on highly profitable, capital-intensive industries; in doing so, however, they do little to help the host country deal with pressing problems of unemployment or income inequalities. Seventh, they encourage the consumption of a broad range of expensive, new products. Eighth, they are the cause of increased Third World dependency, bringing about a significant lessening of economic choice in the process. And finally, parent-company interests at all times outweight those of local national interests.
No doubt many of these perceptions of costs and benefits from MNC activities are overstated and apply with more or less validity from situation to situation. Even so, it is apparent that broad generalizations as to advantages or disadvantages are complicated when the various factors are weighted. Each host country must balance a variety of economic benefits against a number of political, economic, and social costs in order to determine an appropriate public policy for itself.
And in determining a public policy toward MNC activities, it is important to recognize the extent of options open to the African states. As noted in Chapter 3, the accommodation and transformation strategies represent the two extremes in policy
[15] Ronald Muller, "Poverty is the Product," Foreign Policy, no. 13 (Winter 1973–74), p. 92.
[16] New York Times, June 10, 1974, p. 47.
choice on this issue. Whereas the accommodationalist states accept the existing international economic system in its main essentials, allowing the MNCs wide discretion and favorable treatment, the transformationalist states seek to reduce the presence of the MNCs to a minimum in their effort to break inherited ties with international capitalism. But in between these positions lies a significant range of possibilities open to decision-makers bent on a strategy of reorganizing their relations with the multinational firms. In this middle area lies an extensive range of possibilities for improved national regulations on capital and technology transfers, recruitment and training of local personnel, export restrictions, taxation policies, the reinvestment of profits, the use of local subcontractors, local shareholding, the overpricing of locally marketed products, and so forth. In addition, considerable possibilities are open to host countries to negotiate and renegotiate the terms of agreements with MNCs. This brings us to the important issue of bargaining options availing to African host countries in their relations with MNCs, a subject we now turn to in the remaining sections of this chapter. We start by outlining a model of bargaining relations, and then go on to apply it to the encounters between MNCs and African host countries at the state, regional, and global levels.
A Bargaining Model
The central focus of our model (restated more rigorously in the appendix section) is on the impact that the variables of impatience and reciprocal demand intensity have on the benefit-to-cost ratio established in a bargaining situation.[17] Most theoretical analyses of the exchange process deal with other (albeit important) variables: skill, flexibility, information, power, experience, and changing external factors. We do not deny that these
[17] The model appropriates essential elements of more detailed constructions developed by Bruno Contini, "Time in Bargaining Negotiations," American Economic Review 58, no. 3 (June 1969); and by Robert L. Curry, Jr., and L. L. Wade, "A Model for Socio-Political Bargaining," American Journal of Economics and Sociology 30, no. 4 (October 1971), as suggested in their book, A Theory of Political Exchange (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1968).
factors are central to transactional outcomes; however, we feel it important, in explaining bargaining effects, that primary attention be paid to reciprocal demand intensity. The reasons for utilizing such an approach are developed in the next section of the chapter.
We proceed by making certain limiting assumptions necessary for a full appreciation of the importance of the two crucial variables. We first assume that there are two noncolluding agents participating in the process - an African government and a multinational firm- although a more general model could include other agents.[18] Second, we assume that there are two elements involved in an exchange between them: one is controlled by the government, and the other is owned or managed by the company. The government controls the conditions under which rights are awarded to exploit the country's natural wealth, including ores, minerals, and lands, as well as local labor. The company owns or controls capital, technology, and expertise. The government recognizes that there is a benefit associated with obtaining these productive factors: permitting the enterprise to operate in its domain results in employment and income for people, as well as public revenue for the state. The government, however, also recognizes that there is a cost associated with the exploitation of natural wealth by a foreign-based company: external initiative involves some loss of opportunity to local private or public ventures. And from its side, the company views giving up productive factors as a cost in terms of forgone opportunities to use scarce capital, technology, and expertise in alternative ventures. Yet the company knows that by committing these productive factors, it will receive, or at least can expect to receive, a benefit from corporate income and profits.
[18] The separation of interests between some African government elites and MNCs is dependent on the motives of decision-makers who certainly can be influenced by the companies. To the extent that African leaders are co-opted by companies, our analysis clearly is inappropriate. While we recognize that such instances occur, our contention is that all African decision-makers do not fall into this category of corrupted public officials. Some African government officials have been very successful. See F. E. Banks, "Multinational Companies in Africa," Journal of World Trade Law 8, no. 6 (November–December 1974).
The central question emerging from this situation, is, what will be the benefit-to-cost (or, conversely, cost-to-benefit) ratio that is simultaneously acceptable to each agent? In fact, the question might be whether the agents will find a mutually acceptable exchange ratio. Ideally, the government should wish to obtain the most preferred ratio of maximum units of benefits (acquiring productive factors leading to employment, income, and public revenue) in exchange for committing itself to minimum economic costs (such as giving up opportunities for local development ventures). From the company's viewpoint, its most preferred ratio is paying the minimum costs (foregoing opportunities to invest capital, technology, and expertise elsewhere) in exchange for getting the maximum benefits (income earned and aftertax profits realized). In our model, the ratio that emerges is strongly influenced by the relative strength of each agent's impatience and demand intensity, and by the force of conditioning paramneters which are given and fixed in quantity or quality. Nevertheless, we do not assume that these are evenly distributed between the agents. It is likely that several companies are more skillful, powerful, flexible, or experienced than many political regimes in emerging states. Within the context of assuming a given and fixed distribution of the new parameter's quantities or qualities, impatience and reciprocal demand intensity will influence the outcome of bargaining.
We focus now on the abstract bargaining situation that is least preferred from a government's point of view. If African leaders are impatient to acquire the productive factors required for economic development, they will accept an exchange ratio reflecting relatively f'ewer benefits for given costs (or given benefits for relatively more costs). Thus the following comments on the rural-urban and the agricultural-industrial balance apply equally well to exchange ratios: "Many African countries, in their natural impatience for maximum economic development in the shortest possible time, are in some danger of getting their strategy and priorities not quite right."[19] We are reminded of Liberia's strategy during the early 1960s, when
[19] J. W. Garmany, "Enterprise, Management, and Organisation in Africa: A Plea for Research," Journal of Modern African Studies 9, no. 4 (December 1971): 634.
the government financed the development of priority public projects through external borrowing, obliging itself to repay this debt within eight years. Robert Clower and his colleagues noted in their economic survey of Liberia that seldom had there been sharper evidence of a government's intent to mortgage its expected future receipts over such a short period.[20] As it turned out, export prices declined and so did the government's capacity to service its debt. Had the Liberian leaders been less impatient in their borrowing policies, they might have been able to finance development over a longer period of time and, more important, to secure greater corporate commitment to servicing the burdens of external borrowing.
We are referring to impatience to strike a particular bargain with a specific MNC. A government's hurry to develop is reflected in impatience to conclude a specific transaction, particularly if there is no alternative company with which to negotiate. If there are no other productive resources in sight, a government will accept a less preferred ratio where benefits to costs are relatively modest, or where costs to benefits are rather high. The multinational enterprise has obviously no objection to such a state of affairs, since this will ensure for itself a preferred exchange ratio.
The government's demand for what the firm has to offer is probably intense, regardless of the time dimension—for example, a relatively short or long period of years—over which development is to take place. In a particular bargain with a specific enterprise, if the government has no alternative local or overseas company with which to deal, it will want intensely what the firm has to offer. The company's flexibility means that it has other potentially profitable investment opportunities, and therefore can insist on terms preferential to its interests. The government, in its impatience for an immediate agreement, will feel compelled to accept those terms, even though more benefits might be obtainable under improved bargaining circumstances.
[20] Robert W. Clower et al., Growth Without Development: An Economic Survey of Liberia (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1966), chap. 2.
The least preferred bargaining situation occurs for the government, then, when it is impatient and demands reciprocity more intensely than the company. Some contemporary African experience appears to resemble the characteristics of our abstract model and leads to a number of serious problems, such as the plausible one that we now depict. This has to do with the way that an African government acquires revenue from a foreign enterprise engaged in developing and exporting natural wealth in the form of primary commodities. Bargains struck by the government and the company prescribe, among other things, how such public revenue shall be collected. The tax base is the profitability of the enterprise's activities, measured by the price per unit minus unit cost multiplied by the quantity sold. Price trends for a number of basic commodity exports from African countries show moderate to substantial declines. There is extensive reliance on revenue collections from export-oriented companies and concessions, but these decrease as a proportion of the total public revenue collected by the government.[21] As the unit export prices drop, unit export costs tend not to decline. Even though export quantities expand rapidly, the downward pressures on prices and unit profits impede any parallel expansion in the revenue that can be collected. Tax rates (or government partnership share rates) generally do not increase so as to compensate for the downward pressures on these tax revenue bases. Consequently, there is a limit to what can be collected from the MNCs.
There is a fiscal impact accruing from the limited expansion of such revenue collections. Indeed, they tend to decrease as a proportion of the total collected and then spent on public goods and services. Since export earnings probably grow more rapidly than income generated in other sectors, there do not appear to be adequate alternative sources of revenue. This results in heavy government reliance on external borrowing, which tends to increase as a proportion of the total revenue—a situation which creates its own momentum for further foreign
[21] For example, see Robert L. Curry, Jr., "Liberia's External Debts and Their Servicing," Journal of Modern African Studies 10, no. 4 (December 1972): 121–26.
borrowing and ultimately brings about external debt-servicing problems. The government finds that it must amortize and pay interest on what it has borrowed externally. These payments increase in absolute terms, and probably as a proportion of total public spending—in certain cases they can become greater than external borrowing.
Extreme debt-servicing problems can cause an African government to curtail capital expenditures, reduce current spending on public goods and services below desired levels, and assign austerity taxes to residents. These levies fall directly on the personal incomes of individuals, possibly with regressive consequences.
A less impatient government could possibly avoid the abstract yet plausible consequences of the process outlined above. It might usefully take more time to expand the number of potential companies seeking to invest in the country, and to analyze how a more appropriate tax base than company profits might be established. The point is that profits can be "reduced" through transfer pricing. If the parent company wishes to shift its profits to its country of domicile, it will pay a lower unit transfer price to its African-based subsidiary supplier. The African country's tax base will then decline. The revenue generated from the above bargain is a variable largely under the control of the company. On the other hand, any taxation directly related to the country's natural wealth would be under the control of the government. Consequently it might seek to establish a tax base on the physical units exported or extracted.[22]
We now turn from this abstract analysis to several actual cases involving African governmental policies designed to negotiate more effectively with foreign companies. Our observations are on state, regional, and global initiatives that we believe can improve—indeed, in some cases, have improved—an African government's terms of exchange with multinational companies.
Bargaining at the State Level
In support of our contention that some scope exists for enhancing the terms of bargains between African governments
[22] See Carl Shoup et al., The Tax System of Liberia (New York: Columbia University Press, 1971), chap. 8.
and multinational enterprises, we wish to turn now to the variables of impatience and reciprocal demand intensity. "As in all social conflict situations," notes a recent observer, "the exact disposition of foreign influence potential is subject to a certain amount of bargaining."[23] We agree with this general proposition and seek to show some of the options available to the leaders of developing countries.
Certainly this bargaining encounter seems likely to differ from situation to situation. A dynamic process is evident in these relations between governments and multinational corporations, with the point of convergency dependent to some extent on circumstances of time and place. For one thing, world market prices are subject to cyclical fluctuations and secular trends. As an example, copper prices reached high levels during the Vietnam war and then slumped temporarily in the early 1970s. The producers were unable to bring about an advantageous basis of exchange for several years, and this had adverse effects on the achievement of their political and economic goals. By contrast, petroleum prices have increased markedly in the last decade, reflecting a convergence of Western needs and non-Western supplies. The extent to which a corporation is multinational in scope may also have an effect on the particular bargaining encounter. Thus in Zambia the government was able to reach an agreement on the partial nationalization of the mining firms, but not of the banks. The inability to reach an accord with the banks reflects Zambian resentment over the terms of the management agreement previously negotiated with the mining corporations, as well as the difficulties of striking a favorable exchange with these globally active financial enterprises.[24]
Finally, the point of bargaining convergence seems likely to move as the circumstances alter. Thus Zambia's dissatisfaction with the cost-benefit ratio resulting from the original mining agreement led to the 1973 decision by a more securely
[23] Henry L. Bretton, Power and Politics in Africa (Chicago: Aldine Publishing Co., 1973), p. 204.
[24] For a discussion of the management agreement between Zimco and the mining companies, see Mark Bostock and Charles Harvey (eds.), Economic Independence and Zambian Copper: A Case Study of Foreign Investment (New York: Praeger, 1972), appendixes A and B.
entrenched central administration to renegotiate some of the terms of the original takeover. In particular, President Kenneth Kaunda stressed the need to secure more effective control over the Zambian economy, notably by ending the preferential tax treatment accorded to foreign minority-owners of the copper industry, and by placing new restrictions on the remission of dividends abroad. The exchange process proved to be an ongoing one, which carried forward, and consequently reflected, a new environmental situation.[25]
Impatience
How, then, can somewhat vulnerable African regimes extract improved terms of trade as well as protect state sovereignty? Before offering some tentative thoughts on this question we must turn first to the possibility of governmental restraint over its impatience to conclude transactions. As was noted in the previous section, the ability of African states to curb impatience would most likely improve the ratio of obtaining benefits in relation to costs. In fact, the possibility of exercising restraint on impatience has not gone entirely unnoticed on the African scene. A recent report of an interagency team organized by the international labor office commented on the importance of restraint in the Kenya government's exchanges with multinational firms:
The ministries have considerable skill in bargaining with large foreign enterprises. One manager of a foreign company said that the Kenyans drove a hard bargain. On closer questioning he agreed that, so far as his company was concerned, the Kenyan officials might have done better if they had kept competitive tenders in negotiation for a longer period, playing off one company against another. Civil servants agreed that there were cases where they should have kept a number of applicants in play for longer before reaching a decision, but this course can be very time-consuming and involves heavy
[25] A more extended analysis of these shifting bargaining relationships, and their implications for the ongoing interactional process, appears in Donald Rothchild, Racial Bargaining in Independent Kenya: A Study of Minorities and Decolonization (London: Oxford University Press for the Institute of Race Relations, 1973), chaps. 1, 4, and 13. See also his "Changing Racial Stratification and Bargaining Styles: The Kenya Experience," in Canadian Journal of African Studies 7, no. 3 (1973): 419–31.
administrative activity. Within the limits of the present system, the Kenyan officials have negotiated successfully, but there is clearly room for improvement in the system. There is no reason why the government should not play a bigger part in initiating projects and seeking tenders for them, instead of waiting for applications.[26]
Nigeria's experience, until the early 1970's, albeit unique, is another case in point. Oil became the mainstay of the economy only after the civil war, and the significance of this cannot be stressed too strongly. "Many Nigerians often forget that petroleum is not as important to Nigeria as it is to many of the other oil producing countries, most of which are desert lands offering poor prospects for agriculture. By contrast, Nigeria is first and foremost a rich agricultural country."[27] Until very recently, at least, the facts bore out this contention. Whereas oil accounted for 55 percent of Nigeria's export earnings by 1971, it contributed over 90 percent of the foreign exchange revenues in Libya, Kuwait, and Saudi Arabia, although the fiscal reserves held by these states gave their governments another souce of restraint upon impatience. Nigerian export crops—cocoa, timber, rubber, coffee, peanuts, cotton, and palm produce—remained "the driving force of the economy,"[28] until superseded by a dramatic spurt in oil revenues during the 1970s.
The potential strength of the agricultural sector somewhat enhanced the bargaining capacity of Nigerian oil negotiators. The bargaining reference (that which it is reasonable to seek) could have been set at a more advantageous point, since Nigerians could have afforded to insist on favorable terms for
[26] International Labour Office, Employment, Incomes and Equality: A Strategy for Increasing Productive Employment in Kenya (Geneva: I.L.O., 1972), p. 440.
[27] Dupe Olatunbosun, "Nigerian War—an Economic Blessing?" Nigerian Opinion 6, nos 1–2 (January–February 1970): 9.
[28] W. Arthur Lewis, "Aspects of Economic Growth," Nigerian Opinion 2, no. 12 (December 1966): p. 137. By 1974, Nigerian production of oil was estimated at 2.4 million barrels per day, making her the world's seventh largest oil producer. In addition, oil production had grown so rapidly by 1974 that, for the time being, receipts from this one export had come to account for more than 90 percent of government revenue. West Africa, December 16, 1974, p. 1537.
its high quality crude oil. With respect to revenue objectives, this negotiating power might have been reflected to some extent in frequent rate increases, profit sharing (Nigeria now receives 55 percent of net profits), and major shareholdings in foreign-owned petroleum firms. In 1973, for example, the government signed a participation agreement with Shell-BP, the country's largest petroleum producer, providing for a 35 percent equity as of April 1, rising to 51 percent by 1982.[29]
With respect to nonmonetary objectives, such as conservation, this strength was reflected in considered efforts to limit the exhaustion of scarce assets. Keenly aware that petroleum was a wasting asset and that world prices were affected by oversupply, Nigerians, eager to make the best possible use of potential oil revenues to spur agricultural and industrial development, ordered major foreign oil companies to cut back production of oil in 1974. These planners, recognizing that oil reserves could be depleted by the end of the century, saw benefits arising from a more cautious approach to extraction and overseas sale.[30] Likewise, Libyan authorities, eager to conserve scarce mineral resources for future utilization, have implemented policies that place restraints upon impatience.
An important aspect here, as we have commented, has to do with the alternatives available to any government attempting to constrain itself. In the event that a government perceives that it has no alternatives but to agree to bargain with an enterprise, then it might be anxious or impatient to do so; this problem would be compounded if the period for entering into an exchange relationship were relatively brief. The longer the time the government has to seek an alternative enterprise with which to conclude a preferable agreement, obviously the better. Thus managing the number of alternatives is critical, including perhaps the time period available to discover or create them.
It is also essential to manage, or at least influence, the
[29] Suzanne Cronje, "Nigeria Will Control Shell-BP by 1982," African Development, August 1973, p. 11; and West Africa, June 18, 1973, p. 818.
[30] Alan Hutchinson and Alan Rake, "Oil: Nigeria Takes a Stake of Its Own," African Development, March 1972, p. 21; and New York Times, December 24, 1974, p. 26.
alternatives open to a particular firm if the government is to improve its bargaining terms. This clearly is not an easy task. But one way is to employ the tactic of integrative cooperation, and agree nottocompete against each other for direct foreign investment by multinational enterprises seeking to obtain access to basic resources found commonly in that African region.
Reciprocal Demand Intensity
This can also be managed, first by broadening the alternatives available to African governments, and second by limiting those available to enterprises. Liberia appears to be a case in point, at least with respect to the government's attempt to enlarge its formerly unrecognized alternatives through diversification. The country's basic resources are land, used mainly to produce crude rubber, and iron ore. Liberia's rich endowment is reflected in the fact that she ranks third in the world as an exporter of iron ore and seventh for crude rubber.[31]
Relatively new iron ore deposits have been uncovered in the northeast region, and a Japanese company is beginning to exploit these through a concession agreement. There are two major enterprises currently mining the country's ore, the Bong Mine Company based in the Federal Republic of Germany, and the LAMCO joint venture, which involves Swedish and American interests as well as minor participation by the Liberian government. Yet despite the productiveness of these two ventures, the Japanese company has been predicted to be potentially the largest when it comes to operating at full capacity. Thus because it possesses alternatives, the government has been able to avoid granting iron ore concessions to enterprises from any one nation.
This has not been true, however, of Liberia's second most important sector, crude rubber. Between them, the American-owned Firestone Tire and Rubber Company and the B. F. Goodrich Company dominate the market, accounting for about half the crude rubber produced in Liberia; as a consequence, the American rubber-products industry purchases 85–90 percent of
[31] Department of Planning and Economic Affairs, EconomicSurvey ofLiberia:1970and1971 (Monrovia, 1971 and 1972), chaps. 1 and 2.
Liberia's crude-rubber exports annually. Contrariwise, the annual exports of iron ore are much more diversified, with West Germany and the United States as the most important customers, and with Japan rapidly closing the gap.[32] Liberia is no longer tied to one product (crude rubber), one firm (Firestone), and one country (the United States), as she had been prior to the late 1950s.
Throughout Liberia's era of diversification the intensity of the government's demand for a particular foreign enterprise to walk through the "open door" diminished, because more companies from more countries were approached as potential investors. Obviously in Liberia's favor was the fact that a rich basic resource had been uncovered, and,— just as with the worldwise sources of petroleum—the demand from abroad remained intense; this had the effect of causing more companies to invest in Liberia. However, unlike the example of oil, Liberia's regime is not currently in a position to cooperate beneficially on this matter with other governments in West Africa. Known regional deposits of iron ore are limited to Liberia alone. In the event that discoveries were to be made in Sierra Leone, or Guinea, or Ivory Coast, however, then they would all be in a position to defend their common interests. A cooperative regional agreement against internal competition in attracting direct foreign investors would be useful.
Our purpose here has not been to make a definitive statement on what African countries have done to manage the two central factors under examination; we have sought instead to arrive at certain tentative observations based on our model. With this in mind, we contend that if African governments are to improve bargaining outcomes, they must cope more effectively with their impatience and intensity of demand. This is true of any bargainer. An available alternative is a key to managing these central variables.
[32] Curry, "Liberia's External Debts," pp. 121–26. On a similar process regarding bauxite mining in Guinea, see Ludipo Adamolekun, Sékou Touré's Guinea: An Experiment in Nation-Building (London: Methuen, 1976), pp. 60–76. Adamolekun notes that after hard bargaining with the Fria interests, the two parties agreed that Guinea was to own 49 percent of the shares and to receive 65 percent of the profits.
Regional and Global Harmonization and Bargaining
We can now add this observation: if governments harmonize certain of their policies, then they can present a "united front" to a multinational company that is deciding in which country to invest. This concept was central to the Lagos agreement in 1973 when thirty-nine African nations agreed to bargain jointly for trade concessions in their meeting with the European Economic Community in Brussels. It was also evident in the program of economic action declared by the nonaligned countries at their Algiers meeting of 1973: they called for the formation of producer associations "in order to halt the degradation of their terms of trade, to eliminate unhealthy competition, to prevent harmful activities by multinational companies and to reinforce their negotiating power."[33]
Harmonization may reduce the alternatives from which multinational companies are free to choose. This might prove important if various countries wished to protect their export interests through such measures as registration and screening procedures for export companies operating locally though based abroad. Consider the possibility that an MNC, seeking access to material wealth for export purposes, faces one strong and one relatively weak government when working out the conditions under which exploitation rights are to be granted. Given that other factors are reasonably constant, it will choose to transfer technology to the country whose public policies are most accommodating. Because few restraints are imposed on the foreign enterprise, it remains free to pursue its economic interests even though,, by doing so, it may adversely affect the export position or other economic interests of the host government. The neighboring country, whose policies are strong, would be likely to demand capital and technology, perhaps intensely - and would probably be impatient to receive them. This government might believe that its strong policies were a barrier to obtaining needed capital and technology. There is therefore a temptation—perhaps irresistible—to
[33] New York Times, September 11, 1973, p. 7.
dilute, or indeed to eliminate, a potentially useful approach. In this situation, each government might try to outdo the other by softening its policies toward foreign companies, allowing the multinationals to have bargaining advantages which give them great freedom to operate in either country as much as they wish.
We feel that such an outcome is avoidable. The countries could escape from their predicament by altering the exchange relationship between them as a collectivity and the common bargaining adversary—the multinational corporation. The required alteration in current practices would involve a unifying of state policies, either regionally or globally, thereby insuring that each government could undertake to protect its national interests without being played off against other governments.
A regional agreement would serve to reduce the alternatives open to the MNCs, and to enhance the position of countries that pursue common policies. Outside of Africa, the Andean pact—which joins Bolivia, Chile, Ecuador, Peru, and Colombia—exemplifies such an agreement. Here the signatories have agreed to harmonize their policies by establishing common registration and screening procedures:
The agreed common policy requires all foreign investments to be registered with the host country's appropriate authority and new investment must obtain that authority's approval. . . . Agreements on the importation of technology and on patents and trademarks are to be reviewed and submitted for the approval of the appropriate authority in each of the member states of the Andean pact to evaluate the effective contribution of the imported technology. Member states have agreed not to authorize, except in exceptional cases, agreements which prohibit or limit the export of manufactured products based on the imported technology or manufactured under the trademark in question. This also applies to similar manufactured products. In addition, restrictive clauses requiring the purchase of raw materials, intermediate goods and equipment from a specified source will not be permitted, except in exceptional cases and then only if the prices correspond to the current levels of the international market. Similarly restrictive clauses relating to sale and resale prices, obligations to pay royalties and non-used patents and trademarks, the prohibition of the use of competing technologies, and restrictions, on the volume and structure of production are not permitted.[34]
[34] UNCTAD, Report on Restrictive Business Practices (Geneva, 1972), p. 82. Also see Articles 20 and 25 of Decision No. 24 of theCartegena agreement on the transfer of technology, 31 December 1970; and Surendra J. Patel, "The Technological Dependence of Developing Countries," Journal of Modern African Studies 12, no. 1 (March 1974): 1–18.
Two examples indicate the potential for integrative harmonization in African regional bargaining efforts. Although only marginally useful so far in practice, it is instructive to take note of one area's efforts to avoid intraregional competition in its search for privately controlled technology and capital. The East African governments, eager to encourage region-wide opportunities and markets for goods and services, have pursued two strategies—industrial licensing and allocation of industries—with potential bargaining implications.
The first policy option, industrial licensing, was employed formally (but not always effectively) from 1948 to the present.[35] Under such schemes, the manufacture of scheduled items is centrally controlled by a licensing agency. Thus the East African industrial council granted licenses to producers of specified goods in order to assure efficient location of plants as well as a protected market for their products for a reasonable period of time. No doubt some successes did result from this instance of cooperative regional action. The council's decision in 1949 to grant Nytil Textiles of Uganda an exclusive five-year license for the manufacture of cotton yarn and piece goods gave this industry a much needed initial boost. Even so, the full potential of the licensing system has remained unrealised. Not only were relatively few items included on the scheduled list, but the less industrialized partner states came to resent the council's inability to protect those industries in their countries already subject to the licensing arrangements. Had such a coordinated approach not succumbed to the divisive tendencies at hand in the common market, it might well have proved helpful in pursuing more broad-based bargaining objectives with multinational enterprises.
The second policy option with a bargaining implication involved the allocation of industries on an interunit basis. Such
[35] Joseph S. Nye, Jr., Pan-Africanism and East African Integration (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1965), pp. 155–58; Treaty for East African Co-operation (Nairobi: Government Printer, 1967), Article 23; and East African Standard (Nairobi), April 7, 1972, p. 1.
regional allocations enhance the developing country's possibilities of a favorable negotiating encounter with powerful and highly skilled multinational firms, for a resolution of differences among the partners prior to interaction with foreign enterprises improves the exchange circumstances in advance. The MNC cannot "divide and rule" among the partner states, but must work within a bargaining reference more favorable to the interests of the developing lands.
An attempt at a region-wide allocation of industries, never ratified, was the so-called Kampala agreement of 1964: a number of large-scale industries requiring the entire East African market for profitable operations were to be allotted to the three partners so as to assure a more equitable sharing of the advantages of the common market.[36] Of the eight industries named in the initial agreement, Tanzania was to get five (including car, truck, and radio manufacture and assembly, and the manufacture of tires and tubes); Uganda two (bicycle assembly and manufacture, and the manufacture of nitrogenous fertilizers); and Kenya one (incandescent and fluorescent lamps). If a primary purpose of this agreement was to redress the imbalance of trade among the partners, it is possible nonetheless to see an important sphere for integrative cooperation in this and similar types of arrangements. They offer a little-used potential for improving the terms of bargains between African governments and MNCs, for they limit the negotiating alternatives, and hence the maneuverability, of the external actors.
Global agreements involving both African and other developing areas are contained in both the Group of 77 and the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD). The former now consists of ninety-six developing countries, including more than thirty from the African continent. They seek to establish common areas of interest and make policy recommendations designed to protect those interests. The group held a ministerial meeting on November 6, 1971, and concluded that all developing countries face restrictive business practices conducted by companies based in rich
[36] The Kampala agreement is reprinted in Donald Rothchild (ed.), Politics of Integration: An East African Documentary (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1968), pp. 224–29.
industrialized states, notably with regard to restrictive transfers of technology. With respect to this common problem, the group recommended that UNCTAD seek agreement from developed countries which would
facilitate the transfer of foreign technology appropriate to the needs of developing countries on fair and reasonable terms . . . [and] prevail upon those of their firms which have joint-ventures, associations or fully-owned subsidiaries in developing countries to eliminate all restrictive practices which may hamper the growth of industry and expansion of trade.[37]
UNCTAD is composed of members of the Group of 77, other independent developing countries as well as colonies, and the industrialized states of OECD. In 1972, UNCTAD III met at Santiago and adopted a resolution consistent with the theme of the group's declaration of objectives. The resolution was based on the recognition that "every effort should be made with a view to alleviating and, where possible, eliminating restrictive business practices adversely affecting [developing countries'] trade and development," and went on to recommend that "cooperation among developed and developing countries through an exchange of information and consultations and other means could contribute to the allevation and, where possible, elimination of restrictive business practices." The resolution further stipulated that "attention should be paid to the possibility of drawing up guidelines for the consideration of governments of developed and developing countries regarding restrictive business practices adversely affecting developing countries." The resolution established "an ad hoc group of experts on restrictive business practices . . . [and requested] the committee on manufactures to consider the expert group's report and recommend appropriate remedial action."[38]
The group of experts concluded their meetings on March 30, 1973. They concentrated on various forms of restrictive business practices that adversely affected the export interests of developing countries, and examined in detail patent, know-how,
[37] Ministerial Meeting of the Group of 77, The Declaration and Objectives of the Meeting at Lima (Geneva, 1971), p. 87.
[38] UNCTAD, Resolution on Restrictive Business Practices in Manufactures and Semi-Manufactures (Santiago), May 15, 1972, p. 2.
and trademark licenses, and practices common to licensing arrangements in these three fields. They agreed, in principle, that the following practices must not be imposed:
1. Restrictions on exports;
2. restrictions tying the purchase of goods such as raw materials and equipment to the licensor when such goods are used as starting materials for a process licensed and for purchases of plant and equipment;
3. requiring the licensee to accept additional patents or know-how not desired by the licensee, as a condition of obtaining a license; and requiring the payment of royalties for such patents or know-how;
4. charging higher royalty on goods produced for exports vis-à-vis goods for the domestic market;
5. fixing prices of products manufactured by the licensee;
6. placing restrictions on obtaining patents and know-how or trademarks from other licensors; and
7. obligating the licensee to use the distribution channels of the licensor.[39]
If restrictive practices persist, the group recommended that the developing countries take a variety of actions, including the establishment of suitable control procedures and the adoption of appropriate industrial property laws and restrictive business practices legislation. The group also recommended that technical assistance should be provided to the governments of developing countries by competent international bodies such as UNCTAD and the World Intellectual Property Organization. Assistance would include training programs on restrictive business practices. The suggestion was also made to establish an international office to act as a parliamentary body in drawing up and gaining adherence to guidelines making certain restrictive business practices illegal and subject to appropriate action.
It seems unlikely that global policies developed through UNCTAD will result in significant alterations in the world's pattern of economic well-being. In this regard, J. Ann Zammit, a delegate from Malta at UNCTAD III, noted perceptively:
It takes no radical political insight to see the paradox of UNCTAD. The developing world pressed for it to be set up within the UN system, believing or hoping that their numerical preponderance organized in a block system would enable them to exert a powerful influence on the policies of the developed world. Yet in questions of
[39] UNCTAD, Press Release (Geneva, mimeo.), April 4, 1973, pp. 1–5.
trade and development sheer weight of numbers cannot force the rich countries to share what they have already secured or make them change a system which benefits them only too well.[40]
Developing countries have not, and likely will not, exert a significant influence on the rich world by their sheer weight of numbers. But, as Michael Lipton has argued, "This is not to deny that valuable and serious activities are being promoted by the UNCTAD Secretariat."[41] It is clearly these serious activities and not the effort to provide a forum for influencing industrialized countries that are significant for developing countries—African states among them. Lipton has argued further that one valuable function of UNCTAD was to provide a forum where developing countries could strengthen their joint bargaining position by agreeing on "side payments" among themselves before facing common bargaining entities from developed regions. Through "side payments," developing countries might negotiate for maximum net benefits to be distributed within the group so as to compensate internal loser countries and to make each country internal to the group at least as well off as insiders as they would be on the outside.[42] The main thrust of this argument is that the group can present a united front and reduce the alternatives of those entities with which bargaining is conducted. Technical activities, we believe, can function to make information and knowledge available to the group, which can then undertake to expand its alternatives and to control group members' impatience through more enlightened views of the context within which bargaining occurs.
Summary
René Dumont has recently made an appeal for a more positive relationship between Third World countries and the more developed, industrialized states of the West:
Some talk of nothing but aid, while dissembling their all too obvious plundering of the third world. Others talk only of exploitation,
[40] J. Ann Zammit, "UNCTAD III: End of an Illusion," Bulletin (Institute of Development Studies: Sussex University), vol. 5 (January 1973), p. 3.
[41] Michael Lipton, "UNCTAD," in ibid., p. 30.
[42] Ibid., pp. 31–32.
while denying the possibility of effective cooperation, so that teachers and technicians become discouraged. Like colonization—against which it has nevertheless had to struggle—cooperation has both positive and negative aspects. A blanket condemnation of imperialism is therefore oversimple, and much too easy. Ways must be found of improving the situation within the present framework until the latter can be changed. [Our italics.] [43]
What ways are open to the developing countries under current circumstances? We have tried to show that through expanding the alternatives of these countries, or limiting those for the multinational corporations, impatience and reciprocal demand intensity can be manipulated so as to render better the terms of economic bargains. We recognize that within the existing world structure there may be only very limited scope for improving the terms of certain bargains; we feel, however, that even within the present international framework the African host countries can advance their terms of exchanges with their multinational corporate guests through a fuller exploration of the initiatives at their disposal.[44]
Appendix:
Restating the Bargaining Model
In this appendix, we reconstruct more rigorously our bargaining model by further appropriating concepts from the corpus of micro-economic theory. We continue to concentrate on the variables time and impatience and reciprocal demand intensity through indifference analysis. Recall that an indifference curve represents various combinations of quantities of rewards X and Y (e.g., revenue and basic resources) among which an entity is indifferent, or is equally satisfied. In Figure 9, A's indifference curves are arrayed in an indifference map—a series of indifference curves. Each curve is convex to the zero intercept,
[43] René Dumont with Marcel Mazoyer, Socialisms and Development (New York: Praeger, 1973), p. 335.
[44] See the report of a speech by Tanzania's minister for agriculture, Joseph Mungai, to a conference of the Inter-Africa Coffee Organization in Dar es Salaam. Daily Nation (Nairobi), December 4, 1974, p. 11.
Figure 9
map shows indifference curves convex to, and transitive from, the intercept OB1 . We assume an initial stock of rewards X and Y with entity A (the enterprise) controlling all of X and with entity B (the African government) controlling all of Y. Point L represents the initial distribution of X and Y; for example, the enterprise controls the revenue, and the government the basic resources.
The entities each might gain from an exchange of these rewards; each may prefer some distribution other than that indicated by point L, Which is acceptable to both individuals as an initial distribution. Exchange of X by A to B for Y could take place so that indifference curve
There is a bargaining range between points G and H in Figure 9, and each point along this bargaining range (contact
curve) would move both partners to positions more preferable than at point L. This range of equilibrium distributions is traced out in a straight line from H to G. These points are on a contract curve formed by the points of tangency of A's indifference curves with B's. By equilibrium we mean an exchange at some point, such as K, which, when reached, will be maintained until there is a change in the value of the factors determining the bargaining terms. Two critical determining factors are impatience and reciprocal demand intensity. If A is "better situated" with respect to these factors, equilibrium will approach point G. The necessary conditions for the achieving of an equilibrium bargain is, first, that their indifference curves must be tangential and, second, that they are tangential where their slopes equal the slope of the terms-of-bargaining line. The terms-of-bargaining line represents the ratio at which one reward is exchanged for the other.
We shall next focus on the determination of the terms of bargaining by concentrating on time and the impatience and the reciprocal demand intensities of trading partners. We use the concept of the offer curve to assist us here. It is also a concept appropriated from economic theory. An offer curve shows the various ratios at which an entity is willing to exchange some quantity of a reward that the entity controls for a reward that the trader wants but does not control. We have noted that the determinants of these ratios (and consequently the offer curve) are impatience within the bargaining period and the reciprocal demand intensity for rewards in exchange. We begin with these assumptions: First, as the bargaining period draws to a close, each partner will offer its counterpart progressively more favorable bargaining terms to assure that some beneficial bargaining will be contracted; for example, the entity becomes more impatient. Second, the trading partners vary in their intensity of demand for "more preferred positions." Moreover, several other assumptions are required: (1) two bargaining entities exist; (2) two bargaining rewards, X and Y, exist and they are divisible; (3) bargaining is conducted to determine a mutually acceptable ratio at which X and Y are exchanged and divisibility of rewards is acceptable; (4) entity A controls all of reward X, and B all of Y; (5) costs of obtaining X and Y are identical for entities A
and B; (6) a given pattern of impatience and demand intensity for each entity is fixed, and each is unaware of the degree of the other's impatience and demand intensity; and (7) bargaining skills and experience of A and B remain fixed. In effect, we are analyzing only the impact of time and impatience and reciprocal demand intensity on the bargaining outcome. We could relax these assumptions in order to more closely depict actual bargaining cases. However, the implications regarding impatience and reciprocal demand intensity would be exactly as depicted under our strict assumptions.
In Figure 10, the vertical axis measures units of X and the horizontal axis measures units of Y from the zero intercept to some positive quantities. Offer curve
Figure 10
the bargaining period. Curve
Entity B is assumed to behave similarly to A. Early in the bargaining period, B is willing to exchange Y at a ratio of three X for one Y. However, as time passes, individual B becomes progressively more willing and, at the time that the bargain is struck, this bargainer is also prepared to exchange at the ratio of 1Y:1X. At the end of each subperiod, the institutional structure within which the bargaining occurs permits, we assume, each entity to make explicit the ratio at which it is willing to exchange. In this case, an equilibrium exchange ratio of 1X:1Y is acceptable to each trading partner at the same time. This is shown at point K in Figure 10, and we note this as terms-of-trade line T1 .
The terms of trade (established through offer curve analysis) relates to the determination of some equilibrium point along the contract curve (established through indifference analysis). In Figure 11, note that
Figure 11
to K, each bargaining partner exchanges a portion of its initial reward distribution at a ratio of one unit of X for one unit of Y.
This particular exchange has put each entity in a preferred position. But it is not necessary that the offer curves of each have to be tangential at point K. They might choose to exchange at some other ratio, and if so, the resulting equilibrium point will not be K. For example, we now assume that entity A's offer curve is modified either because of its increasing impatience for some bargain to be struck or because it has increased the intensity of its demand for the reward wanted but not controlled. A's new offer curve is
Figure 12
had to offer. In this situation, terms of bargaining would degenerate for the government, and as shown in Figures 11 and 12, the new terms of exchange would be T3 and the equilibrium bargaining point G.
We are not unmindful of the difficulties associated with gaining more effective and preferential terms with MNCs.[45] But it seems to us that the necessity of doing so is of overwhelming importance to African decision-makers. This point is clear from the recent agendas of the meeting of the Group of 77 in Manila and the more recent UNCTAD IV meetings in Nairobi.
[45] The bargaining process is much more complex than our simplified version. In the case of multinational copper companies in Chile, the bargaining outcome was a struggle of diverse groups interacting over a period of time. It was not confined to an omnipotent multinational giant and another bargainer called a host country. See Theodore H. Moran, Multinational Corporations and the Politics of Dependence: Copper in Chile (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1975). For an excellent analysis of an African situation, see Richard L. Sklar, Corporate Power in an African State: The Political Impact of Multinational Mining Companies in Zambia (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1975).
Chapter 5—
Beyond the Nation-State:
Principles of Economic Integration
Here and elsewhere we describe the useful policy options of bargaining through intergovernmental cartels, such as CIPEC (Intergovernmental Council of Copper Exporting States), and bargaining between African governments and multinational corporations. However, these options are insufficient initiatives with regard to fostering overall economic development. But clearly other initiatives are open to African governments in their efforts to bring about economic growth and development. One is economic integration. It is our conviction that economic integration is a means of expanding economic opportunities—for example increased output, expanded employment opportunities, a growth in incomes, and the capacity to consume more goods and services. In this we concur with Lynn Mytelka's point that "integration has no legitimacy apart from the legitimacy it would or could acquire as a result of the accomplishment of these development goals."[1]
[1] Lynn Mytelka, "The Salience of Gains in Third-World Integrative Systems," World Politics 25, no. 2 (January 1973): 241.
In this chapter we examine some basic principles of economic integration, including (1) the objectives and aims of integration, and the mechanics of achieving them, (2) the preconditions for attaining integration objectives, (3) the need for sharing schemes, and (4) limited trade, service links, and policy harmonization as alternatives to maximal economic integration.
The Aims and Mechanics of Economic Integration
Aims and Objectives
Economic integration schemes share the common aim and objective of expanding net benefits available for international distribution through fiscal compensation and net distribution mechanisms. Peter Robson notes:
A primary economic objective of integration is to raise the real output and income of the participants and their rates of growth by increasing specialization and competition by facilitating desirable structural (linkages) changes. This objective may be pursued with reference to trade in products only, as in a free trade area or a customs union, or it may extend to factor mobility—the free movement of labour, capital and enterprises as in a common market, or an economic union.[2]
The expected rise in output and income are essentially due to a combination of several factors. First, specialization based on comparative advantage in production tends to enlarge the output of products that can be shared by participating states. Second, economies of scale associated with increased production tends to lead to the obtaining of more output from a given quantity of inputs and a given state of industrial technology. Third, this induced widening of economic activity frequently contributes to an increase in outputs arising from the augmented availability of factor inputs and improvements in industrial technology. And fourth, enhanced intraregional competition could cause structural and technological changes that would reduce the power of local monopolies and lead to a more
[2] Peter Robson, International Economic Integration (Middlesex: Penguin, 1972), p. 17. In regard to a more complete economic union, he notes that this maximal form of economic integration requires harmonization of state economic policies (pp. 17–18).
efficient allocation of resources as well as to an expansion of output availability.[3] In addition, joint action facilitates bargaining with countries outside the area of coordinated action.
Expanding Net Benefits
There are three basic economic principles underlying the generation of net benefits within an economically integrated unit: the classical concepts of trade diversion, trade creation, and what we call trade expansion.[ 4] These principles are pertinent to common markets or to free trade areas. The former is an agreement to eliminate (or reduce) internal tariffs as well as to erect common external tariffs. The latter involves the elimination (or reduction) of internal tariffs while leaving each partner state with complete discretion as to the imposition of tariffs in its commercial relations with the rest of the world.
First, we show the operation of trade diversion. In Tables 12a and 12b, the global economy is simplified into three countries, A, B, and C. Each can produce some product X at varying costs. Assume that B and C are African countries and A is the outside world. Assume also, as in Table 12a, that prior to
[3] The literature on the potential benefits to Africa from economic coordination is extensive. See for example, Arthur Hazlewood (ed.), African Integration and Disintegration (London: Oxford University Press, 1967), chap. 1; Peter Robson, Economic Integration in Africa (London: Allen and Unwin, 1969); Donald Rothchild, "A Hope Deferred: East African Federation, 1963–64," in Gwendolen M. Carter (ed.), Politics in Africa: 7 Cases (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1966), chap. 6; Benton F. Massell, East African Economic Union: An Evaluation and Some Implications for Policy, memorandum RM-3880-RC (Santa Monica, California: Rand Corporation, 1963), sect. II; and Arthur Hazlewood, "State Trading and The East African Customs Union," Oxford Bulletin of Economics and Statistics 35, no. 2 (May 1973): 75–89.
[4] For a general analysis of customs union theory and its application to developing countries, see R. G. Lipsey, "The Theory of Customs Unions: A General Survey," Economic Journal 70, no. 279 (September 1960); C. A. Cooper and B. F. Massell, "Towards a General Theory of Customs Unions for Developing Countries," Journal of Political Economy 73, no. 5 (October 1965); and Bela Balassa, The Theory of Economic Integration (Homewood, [Ill.: Irwin, 1961). Our trade expansion concept is basically derived from W. M. Corden's cost-reduction effect and trade suppression effect, which are developed in his "Economies of Scale and Customs Union Theory," Journal of Political Economy 80, no. 3 (May–June 1972).
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the agreement to reduce internal tariffs, country C levied a 100 percent tariff on product X, regardless of the origin of import. The price pattern emerging in country C shows that country A's version is cheaper in price at 250 and is therefore purchased. However, when B and C agree to integrate and reduce internal tariffs, a new price pattern emerges. This price pattern reflects the fact that C imposes no tariff on country B's version of the product, making this country's output the lowest in price at 225 (as shown in Table 12b). In this instance, the region has benefited from the diversion of trade. Consumers in country C purchase X at a lower price, and in country B, employment and income opportunities are expanded because of production for both domestic and partner-state markets. Only producers outside the region are adversely affected by the loss of a market that they once served.[5]
There is internal specialization based on comparative advantage regionally. Trade has been diverted from the outside to country B. This diversion permits B's producers to take
[5] See James E. Meade, Problems of Economic Union (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1953), and his work, The Theory of Customs Unions (Amsterdam: North Holland, 1955); and Jacob Viner, The Customs Union Issue (New York: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 1950), as classical analyses of economic integration. Also see Robson, International Economic Integration, Parts I–III.
advantage of economies of scale both within firms and external to them.[6] That is, these producers are now able to decrease costs either because of enhanced resource productivity or lowercost resources attributable to augmentation or structural changes.[7] The cost decrease shifts the supply curve in country B from S1 to S2 at the same time that the demand curve for B's version of the product moves from D1 to D2 ; the latter change is explained by the increased market that now comprises both countries B and C. In our abstract but plausible example, the price actually decreases from P1 (or 225) to P2 (or 200) along demand curve D2 , owing to cost reductions that come about because of specialization.[8] Consumers in both of the integrated countries can now buy at a lower price because of the combined trade diversion and trade expansion, or efficiency effects, as demonstrated graphically in Figure 13.[9]
Let us now consider trade creation.[10] This occurs when internal tariffs are eliminated as a consequence of an integration
[6] See Tibor Scitovsky, Economic Theory and Western European Economic Integration (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1958); and Jan Tinbergen, International Economic Integration (Amsterdam: Elsevier, 1954).
[7] Clearly B's producers could be direct foreign investors from abroad. Country A's producers could have transferred capital and technology directly through multinational companies in order to seek protection (and avoid discrimination) within the "tariff wall." This makes it difficult to define "insiders" and "outsiders" within regional schemes.
[8] A demand curve (or line) indicates the various quantities that consumers will purchase at alternative prices given their incomes, tastes, and preferences, and the availabilities of substitutes and their prices. A supply curve (or line) indicates the various qualities that producers will make available at alternative prices given their costs of doing so, which in turn are based on availability of resources, their costs, and resource productivity partly as a function of industrial technology.
[9] For an extended discussion of trade diversion see A. P. Kirman, "Trade Diverting Customs Unions and Welfare Improvement: A Comment," Economic Journal 83, no. 3 (September 1973): 890–94; and J. Bhagwati, "Trade-Diverting Customs Unions and Welfare Improvement: A Clarification," Economic Journal 81, no. 3 (September 1971): 580–87.
[10] See, for example, J. Spraos, "The Condition for Trade Creating Customs Unions," Economic Journal 74, no. 1 (March 1964): 101–8. Also note that in the process of creating trade, it might be difficult to make distinctions between insiders and outsiders. Direct foreign investmentsfrom country A might be induced when internal economic activity is expanded. This might be the case even though profit rates are higher in country A or some other country at the economic center. It has been noted that high profit enterprises within the center attract mainly portfolio investments, as outside savings are drawn to participate in its high returns. Periphery enterprises attract primarily direct investments, as the center's industrial management moves to buy out less successful competitors there, and to secure markets for their products and raw material needs. See Hans O. Schmitt, "Integration and Conflict in the World Economy," Journal of Common Market Studies 8, no. 1 (January 1969): 5–6.
An important question is whether the "outsider" companies operating as multinationals within regional markets are efficient and competent. If they tend to exert monopolistic (or monopsonistic) power, then they will also gain and likely expatriate their various economic gains. See, for example, J. N. Behrman, "Industrial Integration and Multinational Enterprise," Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Sciences, no. 403 (September 1972), pp. 46–57. If this is the case, then various regulatory devices are clearly required. See Robert L. Curry, Jr., "U.S. and L.D.C. Trade and Restrictive Business Practices," Journal of International Affairs 28, no. 1 (April 1974): 67–80.
Figure 13
arrangement between African countries B and C. Prior to the agreement, each levied a 100 percent tariff on a potential imported product (country C on good Y and country B on good Z). The price pattern that emerged in each country protected local producers from imports, but in each case at the expense of local consumers who paid a higher price, as shown in Tables 13a
and 14a. After the agreement and tariff elimination, new price patterns emerged, as in 13b and 14b. Trade was created between member countries based on specialization arising from comparative advantage (country B produces Y and country C produces Z).
Suppose now that economies of scale exist in both countries B and C when they produce Y and Z respectively due to a combination of resource augmentation and structural or technological change. We can use Figures 14a and 14b to show the downward shift in supply (and cost) curves and the upward expansion in demand curves. Here we note that there are direct beneficiaries in each country: consumers pay lower prices, employment and income opportunities are generated for workers within export sectors, and profit-earning opportunities arise for entrepreneurs. What the model does not show is the distribution of benefits within each country. The economic activity generated could lead to urban-rural inequalities, or to industrial-agricultural imbalances. Clearly, monetary, fiscal, commercial, and manpower policies must be developed to cope with these problems and to obtain the benefits of integration. In brief, to avoid sectoral underdevelopment, external integration requires concurrent internal policies whose specific contents are beyond the scope of this book.[11]
Thus far in our analysis, we have dealt with the generation of net benefits through trade creation, diversion, and expansion, and we have ignored the potential effect that a common external tariff might have under a full market agreement.[12] Consider the following: suppose three countries in the world exhibited changing trade patterns because of the effect on
[11] For a view of externally related underdevelopment, see Colin Leys, Underdevelopment in Kenya: The Political Economy of Neo-Colonialism 1964–1971 (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1974). Leys' focus is not on integration per se, but his findings help to show that through neglect of internal distribution, or through failure to implement effective distributional policies, sectoral underdevelopment can be associated with economic growth.
[12] For a fuller discussion of a common external tariff, see J. Kakoza, "The Common External Tariff and Development in the East African Community," Finance Development 9, no. 1 (March 1972): 22–29.
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prices of a common market between C and B. Let us focus on the consequences for country C when that country had accepted outside country A's products tariff free prior to the common market between itself and neighboring African country B. Initially a 100 percent tariff was placed on product S, provided that it was imported from B, but no tariff was imposed against the preferential outside seller, country A. Thus, as Table 15a shows, the product would be imported from A at a cost of 125 units. But now let us suppose that B and C formed a common market, reducing internal tariffs and imposing a com-
Figures 14a and 14b
mon external tariff of 100 percent on products; that is, both markets impose a similar tariff on the product. The price pattern changes as shown in Table 15b. Whereas the price of A's version increases to 250, B's declines to 225. B's product now costs less than As, and trade is diverted from the outside to country B because of the common external tariff and the elimination of the internal tariff.
In the process, unless there is a significant trade expansion
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effect,[13] consumers in country C emerge as distinct "losers" in the transaction; they pay higher prices for the product. In West Africa, for example, "the land-locked countries and, even more so, a number of small coastal countries with relatively poor industrial prospects (e.g., Benin, Togo, Liberia, etc.) may prefer to try to manage alone, i.e., to buy better quality goods at generally cheaper prices from overseas industrial countries [i.e., country A in our example], rather than to participate in arrangements which would, in fact, amount to subsidizing the infant industries of neighbouring countries [i.e., country B in our case]."[14] At this point the problem of a net "loser" country must be confronted. Assume that a larger and relatively more productive state in a region has the capacity to take advantage
[13] Ibid., pp. 24–28. This gets to the point of deciding what shall be a regional grouping of industries to be protected both from imports from industrialized countries abroad and from more industrialized partners. Protection might be based on such criteria as value-added, cost minimization, and maximum taxability. See S. R. Pearson and J. M. Page, "Redistribution of Industry in the East African Common Market," Bulletin, Oxford University Institute of Economics and Statistics 33, no. 4 (November 1971): 275–88. For an empirical analysis of some earlier internal economic effects with the market, see A. R. Roe, "Terms of Trade and Transfer Effects in the East African Common Market," Bulletin, Oxford University Institute of Economics and Statistics 31, no. 3 (August 1969): 153–67.
[14] Nicolas G. Plessz, Problems and Prospects of Economic Integration in West Africa (Montreal: McGill University Press, 1968), p. 43.
of integration, but that numerous smaller and less productive neighbors are not in a position to do so. As Nicolas Plessz notes in this respect (p. 44), "There can be no doubt that the colonial customs unions of French West Africa and French Equatorial Africa led to an undue concentration of manufacturing activity in a few spots which had an initial advantage, such as Dakar and Brazzaville, and that the other participants in the customs union were handicapped in their efforts toward industrial development." This leads us into the matter of benefit distribution, a critical element of any effective integration scheme and a matter to which we shortly return. But first we must focus momentarily on factors that are necessary for successful maximal strategy.
Economic integration efforts that are successful in generating trade creation and diversion effects offer an added benefit. This has to do with bringing about changes in exchange patterns that potentially can relieve dependency relationships in trade and investment between various African and metropolitan countries. But the matter of modifying structural dependency through shifts in trade patterns is clearly not a simple one. We are aware that African countries generally cannot do much about dependency through economic integration that produces no more than trade creation and diversion alone. And certainly even doing this often is difficult in the extreme. In general, the countries are not so structured internally that trade among them is mutually beneficial. For example, "inter-trade in West Africa has remained stagnant at the level of less than 4 percent of total regional imports over a long period of time . . . [while] for the EEC, this proportion is as high as 70 percent."[15] We are not arguing that this is a reason to shy away from efforts toward dependency modification. Our intent is to suggest that there could be a need for careful "multinational programming of investment based on viable economic spaces, functional linkage projects and resource bunches."[16] This broader policy focus obviously calls for some degree of regional economic planning, or at least coordination, as well as planning
[15] George C. Abangwu, "Systems Approach to Regional Integration in West Africa," Journal of Common Market Studies 13, no. 2 (1975): 124.
[16] Ibid.
at the national level, particularly in terms of such matters as selecting industries for regional coordination of investment policies among African countries.[17]
Generating Net Benefits
Successful economic integration requires certain prerequisites, primarily that the region involved in integration be large and diverse enough to ensure that the union embraces varying resource endowments and productive capabilities. Such differences are the basis for specialization and exchange based on comparative advantage.[18] If there are no such differences, then no interunit trade can be created or diverted from the outside, and no secondary trade expansion effects can take place. Clearly, most African countries occupying a continuous region lack resource endowments significantly different from those possessed by neighboring countries.[19] This has acted to hold down intracontinental and intraregional commerce. As a consequence, intra-African trade, exclusive of South Africa and Rhodesia, amounted to between 10 and 12 percent annually during the past decade. And in particular regions it was considerably lower than this. Trade among Liberia, Sierra Leone, and Ivory Coast, for example, accounted for less than 3 percent of the aggregate exports of these countries. At the same time, however, intra-Community trade involving the East African Community countries of Uganda, Tanzania, and Kenya remained significantly above the continental average.
An ancillary precondition is that the region must be large
[17] F. I. Nixson, Economic Integration and Industrial Location (London: Longmans, 1973); and Geoffrey B. Nugent, "The Selection of Industries for Regional Coordination among Developing Countries," Journal of Common Market Studies 14, no. 2 (December 1975), 198–212.
[18] See James Meade, Problems of Economic Union, and The Theory of Customs Unions, as well as Jacob Viner, The Customs Union Issue (n. 5 above).
[19] See Peter Robson, Economic Integration in Africa (n. 3 above); Philip Ndegwa, The Common Market and Development in East Africa (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1968), p. 40; and Joseph S. Nye, Jr., Pan-Africanism and East African Integration (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1965), p. 143.
or varied enough to include a market area where people have various tastes and preferences for each other's goods and services. If consumers have no basic desire to purchase items from neighboring countries, then a market arrangement tends to be irrelevant with respect to trade creation, diversion, and expansion. Indeed, all of these conditions could be potentially present in a region, but an integration scheme might be required to bring them to the surface. The structural transformation associated with integration is taken to mean "dynamically increasing the inter-sectoral dependence in both the regional economy and that of its constituent units,"[20] in terms of both production and consumption.[21]
The Euro-based intellectual concepts and integration schemes, when strictly applied, have not proved to be adequate bases on which to construct integration in Africa.[22] But this does not mean that more appropriate minimalist concepts and schemes cannot be developed and implemented. Even if conditions do not lead to expanded net benefits under full integration, or if conditions create them but other factors inhibit the development of an acceptable sharing scheme, then an alternative policy is a more limited form of economic cooperation.[23]
[20] Havelock Brewster and Clive Y. Thomas, "Aspects of the Theory of Economic Integration," Journal of Common Market Studies 8, no. 1 (January 1969): 115.
[21] Bela Balassa, "Towards A Theory of Economic Integration," Kyklos 14, no. 1 (January 1961): 1–5. It has been further argued that "the potential gain from a customs union will be larger if: (1) there is a steeply rising marginal cost of protection in the countries, (2) the countries have a strong preference for industry, (3) the countries are complementary, and (4) no country dominates others in industrial production generally." See Charles A. Cooper and Benton F. Massell, "Towards a General Theory of Customs Unions for Developing Countries," (n. 4 above), pp. 475–76.
[22] The developing countries as a group have received some special attention from economic integration theory. See, for example, Charles A. Cooper and Benton F. Massell, "Towards a General Theory of Customs Unions for Developing Countries," pp. 461–76. A general evaluation of their performance is in Charles Pearson, "Evaluating Integration among Less Developed Countries," Journal of Common Market Studies 8, no. 3 (March 1970): 262–75.
[23] See Robert L. Curry, Jr., "A Note on West African Economic Cooperation," Journal of Modern African Studies 11, no. 1 (March 1973): –38. André Simmons, "Economic Integration in West Africa," Western Political Quarterly 25, no. 2 (June 1972): 295–304; and K. M. Barbour, "Industrialization in West Africa: The Need for Sub-Regional Groupings," Journal of Modern African Studies 10, no. 3 (October 1972): 357–62.
Moreover, where continental and extracontinental integration are not realizable objectives for the time being, joint arrangements at the regional level may provide necessary and useful initiatives. Certainly maximizing membership is not the primary goal, even though it has been the "one objective that has almost invariably been regarded as desirable." [24] And where wide geographical unions are neither practical nor realistic propositions, African leaders, even while remaining committed in principle to the long-term objective of continental or Third World integration, will at times press for regional unification in order to take advantage of a momentary opportunity to achieve closer union. With unification or closer union the leaders can attempt to cope with two broad types of minimal objectives (that is, those that do not necessitate full economic integration): (1) economic cooperation and (2) joint bargaining. But before turning to these objectives, we briefly note factors involved in sharing.
Distributing Net Benefits
Suppose that maximal integration is achieved. It is likely that member states will differ in size and capabilities and thus reflect dissimilar abilities to take advantage of specialization, economies of scale, augmentation of factor input, and opportunities to improve market structures.[25] This means that arrangement tends to yield unequal benefits and this requires deliberate policies designed to distribute more evenly, or acceptably, whatever net benefits might accrue to the partner states. Such a deliberate policy would have to be based on the criterion that each member state would be better off inside than outside the arrangement. If such a rule were adopted, then any net loser would have to be compensated for joining and remaining a part of the union. In regard to the SeneGambia Union, Peter Robson observed that "a transitional
[24] K. M. Barbour, "Industrialization in West Africa," p. 357.
[25] See United Nations Economic Commission for Africa, Economic Cooperation and Integration in Africa (New York: United Nations, 1969).
free-trade area as the prelude to a simple customs union offers Gambia no obvious advantages and some evident immediate disadvantages in the form of higher administrative costs." [26] Under such circumstances, Gambia would have had to be compensated for joining such an arrangement. The treaty agreement would have had to determine how net benefits would be allocated between the two associated states, putting each in an advantaged position compared with their situation outside the proposed agreement. Such a mutuality of benefit provides the benefit required to bring agreement on unification efforts as well as to maintain the unions once established.
Table 16 sets forth hypothetical data on which to base a compensation and net redistribution scheme. In it we assume that three countries form an economic union resulting in a diversion of trade to country A from the outside in the value of 100 units. A second consequence is the creation of trade amounting to 50 units between countries A and B and another 50 units between A and C. With each instance of trade creation, country A's newly created exports take place at the expense of local production in B and C. The latter cease to produce import substitutes and now import instead from country A. Within the newly formed community, exports expanded by 200 units (all from A), and imports increased by 100 units equally between B and C. The gainer must compensate each deficit state for its loss in local production to the value of 50 units. When this has been accomplished, the net benefits to the region, 100 units of value, must be distributed to each nonadvantaged country from the beneficiary country A.[27] After compensation and distribution, A gains 50, and B and C gain 25 units each of net benefits.
[26] Peter Robson, "Problems of Integration Between Senegal and Gambia," in Hazlewood, African Integration and Disintegration (n. 3 above), p. 126. Also see United Nations, Report on the Alternatives of Association between the Gambia and Senegal (New York: Department of Economic and Social Affairs, 1964), pp. 1–13.
[27] The Raisman Commission, in 1961, made two key points about the early functioning of the East African Common Market: (1) inequality in distribution of benefits was the fundamental source of strains; and (2) Kenya's extra income was large enough to compensate Uganda and Tanzania for any losses incurred and to redistribute some gains to them. A revenue pool from company profits was established, but it has failed toachieve a completely acceptable redistribution. See Colonial Office, EastAfrica: Report of the Economic and Fiscal Commission (Sir Jeremy Raisman, Chairman), 1961 (London: H.M.S.O., 1961). For a discussion of various plans for compensation and net distribution, such as transfer-taxes, see Robson, Current Problems in Economic Integration (New York: United Nations, 1971), Chap. 5. For an analysis of payments from South Africa to Botswana, Lesotho, and Swaziland, see International Monetary Fund, Surveys of Africa Economics, vol 5 (Washington D.C.: IMF, 1973); and Donald Rothchild and Robert L. Curry, Jr., "Expanding Botswana's Policy Options," in Kenneth A. Heard and Timothy M. Shaw (eds.), Cooperation and Conflict in Southern Africa: Papers on a Regional Subsystem (Washington, D.C.: University Press of America, 1976), pp. 312–328. Our particular example focuses only on balance of trade and payments data. We could have added income and employment variables whose magnitudes would tend to change in the same direction as net exports.
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On what basis will the partners be likely to agree upon an acceptable distribution of net benefits? How can the participating members put into effect a fiscal compensation and net distribution arrangement that will achieve distributional objectives? We regard these as the most difficult and divisive issues confronting Third World statesmen engaged in forming and operating common markets, free trade areas, and other joint economic arrangements. If an acceptable compensation and net distribution system is not worked out, then, as Peter Robson observes, "the operation of existing groupings may easily be rendered ineffective or, in extreme cases, they may collapse. The experience of the last few years demonstrates that this is not a remote possibility."[28] In fact, in 1968, the leaders of Chad decided to withdraw their country from membership in
[28] Peter Robson, Current Problems in Economic Integration, p. 2. Also see his article, "The Distribution of Gains in Customs Unions Between Developing Countries," Kyklos 23, no. 1 (January 1970): 117–19.
the Union douanière et & économique de l'Afrique centrale and to agree to close links with Zaire; this decision was prompted in part by dissatisfaction over UDEAC's inability to work out "a formula for measuring the costs and benefits of integration" and "to agree upon an equitable distribution of industrial projects. [ 29] In addition, the recent collapse of efforts to unite Senegal and Gambia, and the decline of the East African Community in scope and effectiveness, bear out this point. In the short term at least, Senegal and Kenya stood to gain the most from further integrative efforts. But in the immediate period at hand, Gambia and Tanzania appeared to be either worse off within their respective closer unions, or at least no more than marginally better off. In this vein, Dharam Ghai concluded in 1964, with respect to the operation of the East African Common Market, as follows: "From our analysis of the territorial distribution of benefits and costs of the EACM, it appears that Kenya has been the greatest net beneficiary, that Uganda has on balance gained rather than lost, and that Tanganyika has suffered a substantial net loss." [30] Although this conclusion has been the subject of some criticism by fellow economists, they are generally at one in maintaining that "a dissolution of the common market would deny to Tanzania, as well as to the rest of East Africa, the opportunity for many industrial developments. It would set back the industrialization of East Africa by many years."[31]
[29] Lynn K. Mytelka, "A Genealogy of Francophone West and Equatorial African Regional Organizations," Journal of Modern African Studies 12, no. 2 (June 1974): 304, and her article, "Fiscal Politics and Regional Redistribution," Journal of Conflict Resolution 19, no. 1 (March 1974): 138–60. Also see Abdul A. Jalloh, Political Integration in French Speaking Africa, Research Series, no. 20 (Berkeley: Institute of International Studies, 1973).
[30] Dharam Ghai, "Territorial Distribution of Benefits and Costs of the East African Common Market," in Donald Rothchild (ed.), Politics of Integration: An East African Documentary (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1968), p. 207.
[31] Arthur Hazelwood, "The East African Common Market: Importance and Effects," in Rothchild, Politics of Integration, p. 216. Also see E. A. Arowolo, "Economic Cooperation in East Africa," Finance Development 7, no. 1 (March 1970): 47–52; and G.M. Leistner, "Economic Cooperation on a Regional Basis: The English Speaking Countries of Eastand West Africa," Africa Institute Bulletin, no. 15 (September–October 1975), pp. 13–28.
The inability to solve economic problems generated by the attempt to implement a maximalist strategy could profoundly affect further political and social integration of harmonization. William Newlyn, referring to the 1964 crisis within the EACM, made this observation:
The general problem of assessing the gains and losses of common market arrangements has long been recognized as a difficult one. The problem has special significance in the context of underdeveloped economies because of the market limit on scale of production; a particular instance of the problem has been a major political factor in the relationships between the three East African territories. . . . In spite of a nine months old declaration by the heads of the governments of their intention to federate, it became clear that, far from immediate political integration, a complete break-up of the existing economic integration was threatened.[32]
The inability to generate sufficient net benefits or to distribute them acceptably could lead to the disruption or disintegration of fuller economic integration schemes. An alternative that could capture some (if not all) economic benefits without causing political disruption arising from economic failure is clearly an attractive possibility. And African and other Third World areas appear to be moving toward a more limited strategy with these points in mind.
Service Links, Limited Trade, and Policy Harmonization
The Group of 77, with 96 member states from among African and other Third World countries, propose certain guidelines for limited trade, service links, and policy harmonization. They include the following points:
I. Decision-makers might consider a minimal alternative to maximal integration strategies, an alternative that involves more limited areas of cooperation and the opportunity for joint bargaining with external entities.
II. Economic Cooperation: An Alternative Minimalist Strategy. Economic Cooperation and Joint Bargaining. Effective realization of many of the objectives and aims of fuller integration can be
[32] W. Newlyn, "Gains and Losses in the East Africa Common Market," in P. Robson (ed.), International Economic Integration (n. 1 above), p. 348.
advanced if statesmen consider the following processes and procedures prior to establishing cooperation agreements more minimal in their scope:
(a) intensifying current efforts and initiating new efforts to negotiate and put into effect long-term and meaningful commitments among themselves within the regional, interregional and other frameworks of their choice, in order to expand their mutual trade and to extend their economic cooperation in other fields;
(b) promoting and encouraging expansion of intraregional trade and establishing suitable payments arrangements among themselves;
(c) establishing mutually agreed regional and interregional preferential trade agreements;
(d) taking steps to further liberalize their mutual trade, including the reduction or elimination of tariff and nontariff barriers;
(e) encouraging research, production, trade promotion, and marketing of commodities;
(f) promoting the establishment of associations and joint marketing arrangements among primary producing developing countries with a view to taking concerted action in third country markets, particularly in developed country markets;
(g) rendering fullest support to industrial development and investment rationalization in the countries of the region by optimal use of the resources, including technical skill and know-how, available within the region;
(h) promoting mutual consultations among countries in the region in order to find satisfactory solutions to common problems relating to shipping and ocean freight rates;
(i) encouraging travel and tourism among their nationals by cooperating in schemes for promotion of tourism on a joint basis;
(j) implementing schemes related to the building of transport and communication infrastructure; and
(k) promoting within a regional framework the exchange of information and consultations among themselves on their trade and development policies as well as on their objectives with respect to economic cooperation so as to assist them in determining their priorities and in harmonizing their development programmes and trade policies.[33]
[33] Ministerial Meeting of the Group of 77, Declarations and Principles of the Action Programme of Lima (Geneva, 1971), pp. 23–24.
In addition, African governments might do well to harmonize some of their policies at the regional or continental levels regarding the conditions under which they host foreign investors and accept the transfer of industrial technology. The governments of some developing countries regulate direct foreign investment and technical collaboration agreements with foreigners. While procedures vary, they contain common criteria that permit investment and collaboration but control commonly prohibited practices:
1. Criteria for issuing permission to conduct business activities:
(a) there must be sufficient overall benefits to national economic development;
(b) the balance-of-payments effects must, to the extent possible, be beneficial;
(c) the proposed arrangements must lead to an expansion of production and increased employment;
(d) the royalty payments must be within certain fixed ranges and regarded as reasonable.
2. Factors against issuing permission to conduct business activities:
(a) prohibitions and limitations on export activity;
(b) the tying of purchases to the suppliers of technical know-how, especially where domestically produced, similar goods are available;
(c) the setting of unreasonably low prices for exports;
(d) the setting of unreasonably high prices for imports of intermediate goods required to produce the final products exported;
(e) restrictions on production or exports after the termination of the technical know-how agreement.
3. Permissible actions after authorization has been obtained:
(a) the remittance of all or an approved portion of the profits made;
(b) the remittance of an approved portion of net proceeds from sales.[34]
In December 1970, the Andean Pact countries, Bolivia,
[34] UNCTAD, Report on Restrictive Business Practices (New York: United Nations, 1972), pp. 80–81.
Chile, Ecuador, Peru, and Colombia, jointly agreed to harmonize registration and screening procedures:
The agreed common policy requires all foreign investments to be registered with the host country's appropriate authority, and new investment must obtain that authority's approval. . . . Agreements on the importation of technology and on patents and trademarks are to be reviewed and submitted for the approval of the appropriate authority in each of the member States of the Andean Pact to evaluate the effective contribution of the imported technology. Member States have agreed not to authorize, except in exceptional cases, agreements which prohibit or limit the export of manufactured products based on the imported technology or manufactured under the trademark in question. This also applies to similar manufactured products. In addition, restrictive clauses requiring the purchase of new materials, intermediate goods, and equipment from a specified source will not be permitted, except in exceptional cases and then only if the prices correspond to the current levels of the international market. Similarly restrictive clauses relating to sale and resale prices, obligations to pay royalties and non-used patents and trademarks, the prohibition of the use of competing technologies, and restrictions on the volume and structure of production are not permitted.[35]
In addition to investment policy harmonization, the initiatives fall into three categories: first, those that rationalize the use of capital and other resources and promote limited trade; second, those that foster service linkages integrating economic functions such as transportation, communications, finance, commercial and industrial coordination, and social services; [36] and third, those that provide for interstate ownership of enterprises (such as East African Airways).[37]
[35] See also Articles 20 and 25 of Decision No. 24 of the Cartegena Agreement on the Transfer of Technology, 31 December 1970.
[36] See Donald Rothchild, Politics of Integration, pp. 257–258.
[37] The problem of net benefit sharing remains when these initiatives expand regional output and income. One interesting effort to cope with the problem involves countries in the West African region. They are attempting to make shipping facilities more efficient and to distribute equitably (or acceptedly) the cost-saving. For an account of their efforts, see Babafemi Ogundana, "'Seaport Development—Multi-National Cooperation in West Africa," Journal of Modern African Studies 12, no. 3 (September 1974): 395–407.
Joint Bargaining
Cooperative bargaining among individual African countries or isolated groups of countries faces external constraints that limit the partner states' range of choices, and consequently impedes efforts to increase net benefits.38 Although each individual country might be weak, President Nyerere has said,
Together, or even in groups, we are much less weak. We have the capability to help each other in many ways, each gaining in the process. And as a combined group we can meet the wealthy nations on very different terms; for though they may not need any one of us for their own economic health, they cannot cut themselves off from all of us.[39]
In due course, this appeal for self-reliant cooperation was accepted, for example, at the Lusaka conference, where it was decided "to foster mutual cooperation among developing countries so as to impart strength to their national endeavour to fortify their independence."[40]
The African continent is at a critical stage with respect to economic and political regionalism. We agree with Dharam Ghai's contention that African economic integration and cooperation is imperative. Ghai remarks:
[38] See in particular Immanuel Wallerstein, "The Range of Choice: The Constraints on the Policies of Governments of Contemporary Independent African States," in M. Lofchie (ed.), The State of The Nations (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1971), pp. 19–33, and his "Dependence in an Interdependent World," African Studies Review 17, no. 1 (April 1974): 1–26.
[39] Julius K. Nyerere, Non-alignment in the 1970s (Dar es Salaam: Government Printer, 1970), p. 12. Also see the editorial in The Nationalist (Dar es Salaam), April 14, 1970, p. 4.
[40] Lusaka Declaration, Resolutions of The Third Conference of the Non-Aligned Nations, Lusaka, September 8–10, 1970. Republic of Zambia, Background No. 82/70 (Lusaka: Press Section, Information Services, 1970), p. 40. For a similar thrust the fourth nonaligned summit conference in Algiers in September 1973, see James Morgan, "Non-aligned Nations Rattle an Economic Sabre," Times (London), September 5, 1973, p. 18. Here we are limiting our bargaining focus although we have expanded it elsewhere. See Robert L. Curry, Jr., and Donald Rothchild, "On Economic Bargaining Between African Governments and Multinational Companies," Journal of Modern African Studies 12, no. 2 (June 1974): 173–90.
Perhaps the single most significant feature of the African economic scene is the fragmentation of the continent into a large number of politically distinct entities with only marginal economic links with each other. The absurdly small economic size of most African countries is too well-known to reiterate. Nevertheless, the point may be driven home vividly by a few key statistics. Of the 42 or so independent African countries, only 8 have a population higher than 10 million, more than half have a population less than 5 million, and there are several with populations less than a million. When this fact is combined with very low income levels, the result is that money income for the "median" African country turns out to be less than the income of an English town of 100,000 inhabitants.[41]
Thus the African environment and the nature of its contact with the global economy make some form of regionalism essential on economic grounds. But what form? Certainly not along rigid maximalist lines derived from Euro-centrist schemes and strategies. It most likely resides in unique African efforts to implement more minimalist schemes designed to cope with a limited array of problems; schemes that will be effective and whose resulting benefits will be shared acceptably.
Cartels, Bargaining, and Dependency
Bargaining strategy extends beyond dealing with MNCs; it extends to integrated commodity selling. Robert Gardiner, currently Ghana's commissioner for economic planning, has remarked:
Until recently, it was taken for granted that the developing countries had no bargaining counters. We do not accept this assumption. At the risk of oversimplification, we may state the two sides of the case: We, as producer-countries, seek the right to exercise sovereign authority over our natural resources, claim to be entitled to price compensation to meet world inflation, consider it right to participate in the processing of primary commodities in the producing
[41] Ghai, "Future Economic Prospects and Problems in Africa," p. 274. Also see A. J. Brown, "Should African Countries Form Economic Unions," in E. F. Jackson (ed.), Economic Development in Africa (Oxford: Blackwell, 1965), p. 180; and United Nations Economic Commission for Africa, "Economic Cooperation in Africa," Economic Bulletin for Africa 9, no. 1 (1969): 7–12.
countries, and are convinced that the activities of the multinational corporations need to be controlled. On the consumer side: there is an increasing demand for security of access to primary commodities and adequate supplies of raw materials at reasonable prices. If we can harmonize these claims we may help to stabilize the world economy. The negotiations which have been taking place in Brussels with EEC give an indication that when we stand together and examine and present our case with clarity, we compel the other side to give serious consideration to our claims.[42]
Gardiner's point is a critical one given that, in exchange for exporting these material riches, Africa imports semifinished and finished products. More than 90 percent of the imported goods, in value terms, are shipped from the same developed-market-economy countries to which Africa's natural wealth is exported. To give some idea of the enormity of this structural dependency on the Western capitalist economy, we shall examine the trend in African trade relations with the nine states of the EEC—Africa's traditional trading partners since colonial times—over the period from 1968 to 1972. At the outset, one is struck by the one-sided nature of this dependency. Whereas imports of African origin as a percentage of total EEC imports were a little over 6 percent in this period, and whereas African export destinations as a percentage of total EEC exports were about 8 percent during this time, the dependence of the African states on EEC import markets and exported goods ranged as high as the 80 percent bracket in certain instances (see Tables 18, 19 and 20). In addition, one notes the steady decline of the African groups' percentage figures in both imports and exports over the five-year period. Such a decline may be explained in part by a shift in the terms of trade to the disadvantage of the African states.
One of the most significant trends emerging from the calculations in Tables 17 and 18 is the high percentage of trade in both imports and exports between the Yaoundé associates and the EEC and between the North African countries and the European Community. Although this situation has made the six
[42] UNECA, press release (Addis Ababa, 17 September 1975).
members of the North African group major trading partners of the EEC, the same thing cannot be claimed for the original eighteen associated countries in the Yaoundé group. The twelve Commonwealth countries as a group (and particularly Nigeria, Ghana, Kenya, and Tanzania) engaged in somewhat less trade with Europe than did the eighteen Yaoundé associates in the period 1968–1972 ; nevertheless, they did carry on a considerably larger trade with such non-EEC states as the United States, Canada, and Japan. A breakdown of the percentages of African imports and exports from the nine EEC states is presented in Tables 19 and 20.
Over the course of this five-year period, Africa's overall percentage of EEC trade displayed a declining trend. It seems apparent that the African continent as a whole got less and less of an expanding total trade because of the inability to enlarge Africa's volume of trade as rapidly as that of the nine EEC states. This was more notable for some African groups than others. Thus, whereas the North African and Yaoundé groups lost some percentage ground as total EEC trade expanded, that of the Commonwealth and white-controlled areas showed favorable results.
African countries vary in regard to the market circumstances under which their exports are produced and sold. An interesting example to deal with at this point relates to Zaire and Zambia and their exportation of copper. As members of CIPEC (Intergovernmental Council of Copper Exporting States), a joint-marketing management also involving Chile and Peru, the countries' governments hope to improve their global bargaining powers, thereby improving copper prices and sales volumes. It is the intent of the arrangement to enhance, or at least to stabilize, foreign exchange earnings and governments' shares of them.
CIPEC's efforts to stabilize or improve copper prices are constrained by market forces prevalent in the global copper market. These forces determine the price elasticity of demand for CIPEC copper. There are three variables involved in the calculation: first, the price elasticity of world demand for copper; second, the elasticity of copper supply outside CIPEC;
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and third, CIPEC's share of world supply. This is expressed in the following equation:
[43] The coefficient of elasticity expresses the relationship between a percentage change in the independent variable price (P1 –P0 /P0 ) and apercentage change in the inversely related dependent variable, quantity demanded (Q0 -Q1 /Q0 ), or the positively related variable, quantity supplied (Q1 -Q0 /Q0 )
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The price elasticity of world demand for copper is primarily a function of the technical feasibility of substituting other commodities and the availability of potential substitutes. Once substitutes are adopted for certain uses, the market may be lost permanently. This constrains CIPEC's ability to control prices: since CIPEC accounts for about one-third of world copper supplies, it may be able to increase price in the short run, but the long-run expansion in nonmember's output, as well as technological substitution and the expansion in the supply of substitutes, will eventually drive down the price of copper. If the price elasticity of demand for CIPEC's output becomes greater than unity, total receipts will decline with a rise in prices, and members will tend to lose their market shares as they try to maintain prices.
It has been estimated that for copper, price elasticity of demand is less than unity in the short run but greater than unity in the longer run. Consequently, CIPEC members are aware of the likelihood that higher copper prices in the shorter run will have long-run negative effects on world demand for their output. A World Bank study estimated that the short-run elasticity of world demand for CI[PEC copper is so close to unity that its
ability to improve immediate export earnings of members by increasing price is negligible. And according to the study, the long-run elasticity of demand for CIPEC copper is significantly greater than unity.[44]
There are other factors beyond CIPEC's control. First, it cannot regulate world copper output, which has been increasing rapidly. CIPEC's share of the increased supply has declined steadily since 1968, falling to less than 30 percent for the first time since the group's inception.[45] Second, it cannot control global demand for copper. When economic activity declines in industralized countries, the derived demand for copper declines as well.[46]
A rather clear picture emerges: Zaire and Zambia are decision-takers within a global price system that is not functioning consistently with their interests.[47] Their governments are experiencing difficulties in acquiring sufficient foreign exchange to finance imports for both public and private sector consumption and investment. Export prices paid for copper simply have not kept pace with increased prices charged for petroleum and manufactured imports. For the time being, at least, the "commodity boom" appears to be over. Not even CIPEC can affect these circumstances. Yet this is precisely what the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) accomplished most dramatically in its relations with the multinationals and the consuming states generally. Quite naturally, others have urged the extension of OPEC pricing and marketing practices to such exports as copper, coffee, cocoa, tea, and fibers. But here we wish to stress the uniqueness of the oil cartel arrangement. The price elasticity for petroleum is low because of few economi-
[44] See Raymond F. Mikesell, International Collusive Action in World Markets for Nonfuel Minerals: Market Structure and Methods of Marketing Control (Washington, D.C.: External Research Study: United States Department of State, July 25, 1974), p. 11.
[45] For a discussion, see ibid., pp. 11–12; and Benison Varon and Xenji Takeuchi, "Developing Countries and Non-Fuel Minerals," Foreign Affairs 52, no. 3 (April 1974): 505–10.
[46] Bank of Zambia, Report for 1973 (Lusaka: 1974), p. 21.
[47] For an excellent and thorough analysis of the world copper market, see F. E. Banks, The World Copper Market (Cambridge: Ballinger, 1974).
cally viable and technically feasible substitutes. The income elasticity is high because, as customer countries' economic activities expand, demand for additional petroleum is induced. Furthermore, OPEC members can control supply elasticities, a variable critical in improving prices. Whereas Saudi Arabia (and to a lesser extent Kuwait) act as shock absorbers (reducing production when the world demand for oil declines), the producer cartels for the other commodities and minerials lack any equally rich and powerful member able to extend an umbrella over the less protected ones. Hence the members of CIPEC must work out their production quotas through the extremely difficult process of direct bargaining.[48]
Another effort at international bargaining through the mechanism of cartel arrangements occurs with respect to cocoa. Since five countries account for some 80 percent of the world exports of this commodity, cocoa would seem a natural candidate for collective action aimed at raising market prices. So far, however, various initiatives to this end have proved largely unavailing. In 1963 a draft agreement was negotiated providing for minimum export prices, a buffer stock, and export quotas. But this came to nought when a subsequent conference, in October and November 1963, broke down over the inability of the bargaining partners (producers and consumers) to work out mutually acceptable price ranges at which a proposed price stabilization agreement would take effect. Whereas the producers demanded a minimum price of £215 per ton (the market price at that time), the consumers called for a floor price of £165 (the prevailing price in the previous season).[49] The collapse of this conference led the producers to adopt a new line of collective policy action: limitations on international cocoa sales. In 1964, the Cocoa Producers Alliance agreed to put export quotas into effect, and restrictions were placed on the sales of West African cocoa below a price of £190 per ton. An indication of Ghana's commitment to this policy on restrictive sales was the issuance of reports on the burning of excess stocks of
[48] "Oil is the Exception," Foreign Policy, no. 14 (Spring 1974), p. 68.
[49] Kofi Ata-Bedu, "The Cocoa Battle," Daily Graphic (Accra), October 25, 1975, pp. 8–9.
this product. Nevertheless, this effort to curb overseas sales of cocoa proved abortive. Because a restrictive policy involved severe difficulties in balance of payments for fragile producer economies, certain producer countries failed to implement the arrangement fully, hence this attempt by producers to effect a change in world market prices had little import.
Similar complications in implementing cocoa cartel arrangements came to light in the 1970s with the negotiations on various international cocoa agreements. The cocoa exporting countries hammered out an agreement in 1972 to stabilize prices, only to see the pact flounder over the price limitations set by the parties. As prices moved upward, following the conclusion of the agreement, the price limits set at 23–32 cents per pound became obsolete. These price limits were pushed up to 29.5–38.5 in 1974, but, after a year's operation, had to be renegotiated as the pact approached its expiration date. Then, in 1975, new exchanges ensued between producers and consumers. Whereas producers sought a price range of 59–68 cents per pound, the consumers proposed a range from 32 to 46 cents per pound. In the end, the conferees agreed to split the difference, arriving at a 39–55 cents per pound range divided into "five zones, accommodating both producers' insistence on 10 percent export quotas and consumers' demand for a zone where prices will be totally free to respond to market forces."[50]
Although this new price range represented a very substantial increase over previous prices, the Ivory Coast decided against participating in the agreement on the grounds that the rise was insufficient. Since the Ivory Coast produces some 15 percent of world cocoa exports, its refusal to ratify the agreement obviously undercuts the producers' united front. [ 51] In addition, the agreement received a further setback when the United States refused ratification, opposing the imposition of export quotas, but not buffer stock arrangements, as an interference with the free play of world market forces.[52] Again, as illustrated by the case of CIPEC above, bargaining among equals
[50] Quoted in ibid.
[51] I. K. Nkrumah, "Intrigues in the International Cocoa Agreement," Daily Graphic, November 22, 1975, p. 9.
[52] Ibid. In addition, it should be noted that the cocoa buffer stockfund of the International Cocoa Council had accumulated revenues estimated at $60 million by the end of 1975. This fund, established to purchase cocoa at a time of low world prices, is financed by a levy on cocoa exports of $22 per ton. Ghanaian Times (Accra), December 4, 1975, p. 3
in a cartel arrangement is shown to be a difficult process—unless one or more powerful participants are willing and able to provide a protective umbrella over the negotiation and implementation of the arrangement.
Thus far we have dealt with joint bargaining by intergovernmental cartels with buyers in global markets. We wish to stress the limited impact of cartels other than petroleum. With respect to copper, the increase in demand reflected two phenomena. First, according to the World Bureau of Metal Statistics, world consumption of refined copper rose by 8 percent in 1973 over the previous year, and in Western market-economy countries, consumption rose by 10 percent. This rise reflected generally high and increasing levels of economic activity in most industrialized countries. Second, during 1972 and 1973, manufacturers were operating with declining stocks, and much of the 1973 buying was attributable to inventory replacement. For example, stocks of refined copper at the London Metal Exchange (LME) warehouses decreased by some 165,000 tons from December 1972 to November 1973, when they actually dropped below the danger level of 20,000 tons. At the same time, Comex stocks in New York fell by 50,000 to less than 2,000 tons. The Copper Institute reported that consumers and fabricators experienced declines of 215,000 tons during this eleven-month period.[53]
The sharp increase in demand had a beneficial effect on prices. The LME monthly average price was ZK718 in November; by the following December, however, it had climbed to nearly ZK1,450. The 1972 monthly average was ZK764, and, in the next year, it rose to ZK1,155, an increase of 50 percent. An added factor contributing to the increase in copper and commodity prices generally was international monetary instability. This price increase provoked investors from depreciating currencies into speculative movements into commodities. The resulting upward price pressures were so great that from March
[53] Bank of Zambia, Report for 1973, pp. 22–23.
to December 1973 the three-month forward price on the LME was actually lower than the cash price.[54]
These factors reflect a key point: CIPEC was not responsible for this boom. It was due to global market forces beyond the council's control, and its inability to influence prices and sales volume was evidenced by what followed. There was an economic downturn in industrialized countries and this had an adverse effect on worldwide demand for copper. Inventories in London, New York, and elsewhere were replenished. Coincidentally, investment speculation into commodities ceased in favor of other noncash assets, notably certain currencies and gold. These factors had adverse effects on prices. For example, after the LME price had reached a high of nearly ZK2,000 in early 1973, it slumped to below ZK725 by January 1974. Sales volumes continued to fall, causing the Zambian Government to stockpile copper in lieu of laying off workers. This stockpiling led to costly and, according to London copper authorities, possibly ruinous, storage charges as costs continued to accumulate.[55]
[54] Ibid., pp. 22–24.
[55] Times of Zambia (Ndola), January 3, 1975, p. 1. Limitations on an individual country's bargaining power is a major factor prompting the collective bargaining efforts of forty-six African, Caribbean, and Pacific countries under the Lomé Convention.
Chapter 6—
Policy Integration and External Action:
A Minimalist Choice
In isolation, African countries have functioned within global economic markets and political arenas over which they exerted little or no influence. They have been decision-takers possessing few unilateral policy options that have had fundamental external effects. However, African states have begun to implement and develop initiatives designed to overcome this isolation and are in the process of working out new collaborative arrangements for negotiating with external interests (i.e., "policy externalization").[1] Such policy externalization acts to modify structural dependency as well as to move these African states toward greater equality in their relations with extracontinental actors. We have maintained in Chapter 5 that the driving force underlying African integration is the aim of improving economic well-being. We wish now to extend this line of analysis by arguing that a minimalist implementation
[1] On "policy externalization," see the discussion in Philippe C. Schmitter, Autonomy or Dependence as Regional Integration Outcomes: Central America, Research Series, No. 17 (Berkeley: Institute of International Studies, 1972).
strategy has validly become the preferred one among decision-makers in middle Africa.
We shall first note the ways in which maximalist political schemes (in particular, classical federalism) complicated the process of African integration. As used here, a maximalist implementation pattern refers to the utilization of supranational structural linkages to achieve collective policy objectives; the emphasis is on creating supranational instrumentalities with a significant capacity for independent initiative, decision-making, and regulation, as well as higher levels of bureaucratic resources, jurisdiction, and public support than is the case for those regimes pursuing a minimalist course.[2] We shall go on to observe that limited-purpose, minimalist schemes are more effective in achieving the aims of unity. A minimalist implementation pattern, as we conceive it, builds upon an accepted base of state sovereignty to attain economic growth and development ends (as well as such others as military security and the management of intraregional conflict); these intergovernmental arrangements differ from maximalist organizations in their emphasis on state capacity for initiative, decision-making, and regulation and their limited bureaucratic resources, jurisdication, and public support. Finally, we shall analyze how a middle strategy might further the objectives of reduced extracontinental dependency and increased African integration.
Political Organization:
The Maximalist Implementation Pattern
If economic integration enhances opportunity, we must explore why maximalist economic unions are so difficult to put into effect, especially in the circumstances prevailing in postcolonial Africa. Then, after contrasting the relative difficulties involved in implementing maximalist and minimalist types of arrangements in Africa, we shall look briefly at some of the regional organizations now in existence in terms of their abili-
[2] See J. S. Nye, Peace in Parts: Integration and Conflict in Regional Organization (Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1971), pp. 36–47; and Michael Haas, International Systems: A Behavioral Approach (New York: Chandler Publishing Co. 1974), p. 204.
ties to act as effective problem-solving instrumentalities. Policy outputs will be related to outcomes (or consequences) in gauging an organization's capacity to achieve its goals.
Although the primary objective in integration may, in many instances, be the maximization of the kinds of economic benefit described above, the critical decisions on the establishment, operation, and dismantling of these joint arrangements must at all times remain matters for political decision-making. As Ernst B. Haas contends: "The decision to proceed with integration or to oppose it rests on the perception of interests and on the articulation of specific values on the part of existing political actors."[3] But political actors not only make policy determinations at each important stage in the integration process, they also interact with their role partners in reconciling divergent interests. Hence any attempt to isolate economic policy from the related processes of political decision-making and political exchange seems certain to be incomplete.
An example of interrelated political and economic forces appears in the process of bargaining over the 1967 Treaty for East African Cooperation. Each negotiating team consciously played down political considerations on the assumption that economic and technical factors minimized conflict. It was apparent from the outset that the decision process was inherently political, not only at the time of the East African Community's founding but also in the way that partner states coped with subsequent crises. James Gichuru, Kenya's minister for finance, attests to the continuing play of forces marking the eighteen months of negotiations on the treaty. Gichuru observes: "We were selfish to the extent that we had to safeguard our own country—as did the Ministers from the other two countries. It was quite a tug-of-war."[4] And in the years that followed, especially after the military coup d'etat in Uganda in 1971, it was largely Kenya's determined role as a political broker that was decisive in holding the common services organization and common market together in the face of intense differences at the state level between Tanzania and Uganda.
[3] Ernst B. Haas, 7 The Uniting of Europe (London: Stevens and Sons Ltd., 1958), p. 13
[4] Daily Nation (Nairobi), June 28, 1967, p. 18.
In brief, then, interstate integration demonstrates clearly the juxtaposition of political and economic forces. On the one hand, economic welfare frequently establishes the basis for a mutuality of interests; on the other hand, a dynamic process of political exchange is indispensable to the creation of an effective and enduring organizational relationship. Unless these two aspects are viewed simultaneously, it is difficult to secure a full understanding of the integrative process.
Environmental Circumstances
Before we examine how the processes of political exchange and decision-making act to limit the achievement of desired integration goals, it is important to note the extent to which environmental circumstances militate against successful policy implementation along maximalist lines. Certainly a number of key preconditions are lacking in middle Africa. In the West, such factors as free enterprise, social pluralism, elite complementarity, and the existence of transterritorial economic interest groups encouraged supranational outlooks and initiatives. Particularly in nineteenth-century experiences in Switzerland, the United States, and Canada (but also in certain critical respects in modern-day Europe), decisions on integration were facilitated by the political elite's transnational orientation and room for maneuver. Pressures were lower on decision elites, especially in the earlier period, because capitalism was no respecter of boundaries, business and commercial interests were regional in outlook, laissezfaire put a low priority on territorial planning, government assumed a relatively limited responsibility for social welfare and employment responsibilities, and so forth. But such circumstances are largely unavailing in current Third World experience—and with disintegrative effects for unification purposes. In Africa, widespread commitment to governmental leadership in securing both social equity and productionist objectives rapidly and simultaneously has the effect of placing an enormous burden upon the decision elites of the various countries. Such pressures may cause leaders to maximize immediate territorial interests at the expense of broader (and longer-term) interterritorial advantage.[5]
Other preconditions of a maximalist strategy seem also to
[5] Karl W. Deutsch, et al., Political Community and The North Atlantic Area (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1968), p. 42.
be in short supply in middle Africa. Such interrelated factors as an adequate, geographically based diffusion of power, a favorable ethos for creating and maintaining such arrangements, a climate of political tolerance, a sense of regional community, and a myth of potential economic benefit come immediately to mind.[6] In part, the responsibility for at least some of these constraints of the environment is attributable to experiences with colonial rule. The colonial external actors, by the manner in which they imposed state structures upon Africa, set in motion forces that militated against subsequent acceptance of reconciliational institutions in the postcolonial period.[7] To start with, the essentially coercive relationship implicit in colonialism had the effect of limiting African participation at all stages of the decision-making process. The effect of this was to deny legitimacy to the political system. African leaders lacked a sense of commitment to institutional structures regarded as alien in their values and procedures; consequently, when confronted with profound conflicts of interest over the distribution of political power or fiscal resources, they tended to jettison inherited colonial formulas for what they considered to be more effective public institutions of decision and implementation.
Colonial External Actors
Collaterally the colonial outsiders brought institutions which, by their artificiality under African circumstances, actually complicated the process of
[6] Many of these conditions for federalism have been discussed at greater length in Donald Rothchild, Politics of Integration: An East African Documentary (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1968), pp. 3–9, and his article, "The Limits of Federalism: An Examination of Political Institutional Transfer in Africa," Journal of Modern African Studies 4, no. 3 (November 1966): 275–93. Also see George C. Abangwu, "Systems Approach to Regional Integration in West Africa," Journal of Common Market Studies 13, nos. 1 and 2 (1975): 128–33.
[7] For a discussion of the external effect on African integration, see Donald Rothchild, "African Federations and the Diplomacy of Decolonization," Journal of Developing Areas 4, no. 4 (July 1970): 509–24; Aaron Segal, "The Integration of Developing Countries: Some Thoughts on East Africa and Central America," Journal of Common Market Studies 5, no. 4 (March 1967): 272–73; and Susan A. Gitelson, "Can the U.N. Be an Effective Catalyst for Regional Integration? The Case of the East African Community," Journal of Developing Areas 8, no. 1 (October 1973): 65–82. For Latin American experience, see Schmitter, Autonomy or Dependence (n. 1 above), p. 33
adaptation. With the approach of independence, for example, many African and European observers assumed that classical federalism (K. C. Where's model of coordinate governments) would be able to accommodate the continent's needs for unity and diversity. Within a few short years of transferring power, however, the limited applicability of this maximalist political experiment became apparent. Classical federalism, as transmitted in the final hours of colonialism, soon conflicted with the aims and objectives of the new African elite. In brief, classical federalism proved unable to strike a lasting balance between centripetal and centrifugal pressures, was considered dysfunctional with mobilization efforts, was discordant with single-party tendencies, and appeared to impede decisional efficiency.[8] In the end, classical federalism lost its relevance as a reconciliatory mechanism and therefore declined in significance on the African scene.
Thus the colonial experience gravely complicated the process of adapting Western institutions to African needs and circumstances. By the way that it acted on and reacted to local conditions, colonialism had the effect of heightening intergroup differences. The local advocates of federalism in Africa, frequently minority ethnic or racial groups who sought to place restrictions on a possibly overweening center following the transfer of power, looked upon federalism as a conflict management mechanism rather than a means of promoting developmental objectives. As a consequence, the tensional federalism adopted in some countries proved incapable of bridging over the profound cleavages of racial or ethnic interest. The normal progression from tensional to cooperative federalism did not occur, partly because group anxieties and struggles increased with independence. Against a background of extensive poverty, illiteracy, and suspicion of Western norms and values, federalism proved unable to reconcile divergent interests—or to protect group claims to power and autonomy. Political conflicts were too fundamental in nature, approximating a "zero-sum" game where the gain of one or more players equaled the loss of one or
[8] F. G. Carnell, "Political Implications of Federalism in New States," in U. K. Hicks et al., Federalism and Economic Growth in Underdeveloped Countries (New York: Oxford University Press, 1961), p. 37.
more rivals.[9] As the stakes of politics became too high, institutional mechanisms based on compromise and accommodation appeared to be frail reeds, and a move toward centralized state action ensued.
The colonial experience also complicated the transfer of classical federal institutions by establishing artificial territorial entities throughout most of Africa. In fact, the territorial boundaries of the colonial "trustees" were more reflective of the administrative needs of the metropole and the vicissitudes of external (European) power politics than of the internal political, economic, and social imperatives of the independent states to come. Hence, with independence, a multitude of states emerged which often possessed paralleling and overlapping ethnic populations, physical geographies, and economies, and which were at the same time separated by divers rates of modernization, externally imposed language patterns, cultural dependencies, transportation, road networks, and administrative systems.
Postcolonial Impact
The colonial bequeathal of the African state system was bound to have enormous implications for postindependence regionalism. Despite a widespread recognition of the need for pan-African solutions, the inherited state structure persists—an indication, in part at least, of the age-old difficulty of restructuring the relations between sovereign states once frozen into place. To be sure, some heads of government or state did seek to counter the drift to separate statehood before existing boundaries became barriers to easy intercourse. As decolonization became a certainty in the late 1950s, Senegal's Leopold Senghor pressed for the formation of a "primary federation," and Barthélemy Boganda of the Central African Republic sought to rally support for federation in Equatorial Africa. In East Africa, Julius Nyerere, prime minister of Tanganyika, eager to preserve the advantages of a colonial-imposed
[9] Karl W. Deutsch, The Nerves of Government (New York: Free Press, 1969), p. 66; W. Arthur Lewis, Politics in West Africa (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1965), pp. 66–67; and J. LaPalombara and M. Weiner, "The Origin and Development of Political Parties," in LaPalombara and Weiner (eds.), Political Parties and Political Development (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1966), p. 311.
regional infrastructure, urged that his country's independence be delayed temporarily to enable Africa to come to uhuru (freedom) as one unit. Although pressures within party and government ultimately forced Nyerere to move from this position, his words in this regard offer insight into the unfolding process. In June 1960, Nyerere observed:
There are obvious disadvantages if we wait until all the countries of East Africa have reached complete independence before we begin to bring them together in one federal unit. If each nation achieves independence separately, any move by one of them in the direction of federation is likely to be misunderstood and will certainly be subjected to a campaign alleging imperialistic designs and a search for personal power. For this reason the most honest and least selfish of the leaders will be strongly tempted to avoid the issue. Further, the leaders of each state will become so preoccupied with the immediate problems of their own government that the long-term advantages which can come from the establishment of a federation will get crowded out of consideration.[10]
But with independence the die was cast. The drive for state freedom had overwhelmed efforts to build primary federations prior to the termination of colonial rule, leaving Africa no choice but to deal with the colonially inspired partition on its own.
Not only did colonialism leave behind a patchwork of many sovereign states, but the states spawned by this process were themselves artificial entities. The new leaders, eager to encourage national integration, were compelled, as Nyerere had foreseen, to look inward and to rank as their first priority the political, economic, and social development of their own polities. In their efforts to concentrate loyalties at the center, the rulers of postindependence Africa undercut local and transnational ties at one and the same time. The results of this process were necessarily antifederal, for state nationalism was fostered at the expense of local nationalism or a sense of transnational community. Under these circumstances, federalism lacked appeal, being viewed as a potential restraint on central action within the state or a divisive form of statecraft at the regional level. In Kwame Nkrumah's words, "In order to
[10] Rothchild, Politics of Integration, p. 70.
improve effectively and quickly the serious damage done to Africa as a result of imperialism and colonialism, the emergent African States need strong, unitary States capable of exercising a central authority for the mobilization of the national effort and the co-ordination of reconstruction and progress. For this reason, I consider that even the idea of regional federations in Africa is fraught with many dangers.[11] Nkrumah advocated the "high politics" of continental political unity while expressing reservations about regional federation.[12] Regional unity might threaten continental cohesion by encouraging the development of lesser loyalties; furthermnore, it might "give rise to the dangerous interplay not only of power politics among African States and the regions, but . . . also create conditions which will enable the imperialists and neo-colonialists to fish in such troubled waters."[13]
Colonialism created problems of elite linkage within as well as among the new African states. By artificially dividing district from district, province from province, and territory from territory, colonial administrative policies resulted in low levels of interunit transactions. Elite complementarity was minimized, causing needless cleavages which were difficult to reconcile through the instrumentalities of power-sharing. In reaction to the divisive tendencies of colonialism, African nationalism, bureaucratic and military power, and single or no-party systems sought in their own ways to foster elite linkages as well as social linkages in the society as a whole. Although allowing considerable scope for reciprocity and exchange, these mechanisms nonetheless operated differently from federalism, with its long-term dispersion of power among various governmental organs. And because they could operate without the kind of
[11] Kwame Nkrumah, Africa Must Unite (London: Heinemann, 1963), p. 214.
[12] On the distinction between "high" and "low" politics in integration behavior, see Roger D. Hansen, "Regional Integration: Reflections on a Decade of Theoretical Efforts," World Politics (1969), p. 247; and Stanley Hoffman, "Obstinnate or Obsolete? The Fate of The Nation-State and the Case of Western Europe," Daedalus 95, no. 3 (Summer 1966): 874.
[13] Nkrumah, Africa Must Unite, pp. 214–15.
framework of values in which tolerance and diversity flourished, they were more suitable to immediate postcolonial conditions than to looser consensual constitutional arrangement.
In addition to the complications of the colonial experience were those involving the postcolonial decisional and exchange processes. The tendency to concentrate power in central authorities at the state level, combined with the growth of territorial consciousness, made joint interstate action more difficult. Whereas, legally, the center could now circumscribe local initiative more completely than before, it found intercountry relationships increasingly intricate and unwieldy. If coercion was a resource at the hands of colonial governments, enabling them to impose regional schemes at low cost, the move to separate state independence meant increased integrative burdens in creating and maintaining supranational linkages.[14] No longer was the exchange process cushioned by a hegemonial colonial authority; now political exchange involved a direct bargaining encounter between the governments of sovereign states. And state-centered claims did in fact rise sharply in the period following independence, placing enormous pressure on intercountry coordination at a time of declining supranational capabilities. Enhanced state responsibility and influence entailed mounting organization costs, for the number of autonomous participants in the decision-making process had been significantly enlarged.[15] This increase in the number of separate participants raised the cost of "social interdependence" and required a greater bargaining effort to organize decisions—a situation that placed a very considerable burden upon statesmen committed in principle to regional integration.
Over and above the organization features described above, separate statehood and the growth of state consciousness burdened the process of political exchange by sharpening leadership awareness of reciprocal interests and anxieties. The in-
[14] For a fuller discussion of the shift in organization relationships in these two time periods, see Donald Rothchild, "From Hegemony to Bargaining in East African Relations," Journal of African Studies 1, no. 4 (Winter 1974): 390–416.
[15] Mancur Olson, The Logic of Collective Action (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1965), p. 38; and James M. Buchanan and Gordon Tullock, The Calculus of Consent (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1971), chap. 5.
creased bargaining and exchange entailed in postindependence efforts at regional unification brought a heightened sensitivity about the risks and uncertainties of federation. Considerable anxiety became evident soon after the working party met to hammer out the terms of East African federation following the June 1963 declaration of unity. Thus in August of that year, Adoko Nekyon, the Uganda minister of information, broadcasting, and tourism and leader of the Uganda delegation to the working-party sessions, announced that his country wanted to know "precisely where she was headed" before she entered into any binding constitutional commitments. "I am not prepared just to throw my nation into darkness," Nekyon declared, "so I must know exactly where we are going and to whom we are surrendering our powers. And, as a small state, Uganda needs certain guarantees for her future within a larger unit."[16] For Nekyon, then, federation evoked fears of the unknown, which could only be lessened by elaborate and far-reaching protections for Uganda autonomy; agreement on such broad-based changes would require prolonged negotiation and substantial concessions by the negotiating partners. Obviously an easy exchange of interests was thwarted by such considerations.
Local Attitudes and Organizational Features
A breakdown of local attitudes toward various federation schemes in Africa around the time of decolonization reveals some interesting reciprocal relationships between the forces for integration and separation. In reality, this mosaic of attitudes shows that a broad-based "myth of utilitarian benefits" was often lacking among critical sections in these nonindustrialized and internally divided societies.[17] On the one hand, integrative tendencies were evident where local power groups looked upon federation as an instrument for the domination of security, a means of securing economic and administrative objectives, and a fulfillment of pan-African aspirations. On the other hand, disintegrative tendencies came into play as a result of such related pressures as community and territorial fears, conflicting eco-
[16] Rothchild, Politics of Integration, p. 98. Also see Prime Minister Obote's remarks in ibid., p. 101.
[17] Amitai Etzioni, Political Unification: A Comparative Study of Leaders and Forces (New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1965), p. 252.
nomic and administrative interests, and a consciousness of distinct political identity.[18] In Nigeria, the constitutional debates of the 1950s showed the north as fearful of southern domination as the south was over prospects of northern hegemony. In British Central Africa, federation was both a defensive bulwark against hostile African nationalism and a means of entrenching European hegemony, depending largely upon collective perceptions of interest. With respect to economic and administrative advantage, leaders throughout the continent were mindful of such potential integrative benefits as economies of scale, bulk purchasing, comparative advantage, diversification, interunit planning and implementation, enhanced credit-worthiness, international leverage, and so forth; yet in practice, this support for supranationalism and pan-African objectives sometimes proved academic when it came into conflict with pressing developmental needs at the state level. Thus officials in Gabon and the Ivory Coast openly opposed federation in Equatorial and West Africa, contending that substantial revenues collected in their countries would be transferred to neighboring lands. In East Africa, growing dissatisfaction in Tanzania and Uganda with the inadequate effects of the Raisman distributable pool system led to hasty efforts to redress trade imbalances by such methods as quota restrictions and the allocation of selected industries among the three countries.[19] But these efforts, which culminated in the abortive Kampala agreement of 1964, failed to ensure stable common-market relations; consequently, new negotiations ensued, resulting ultimately in the 1967 Treaty for East African Co-operation, which sought to equalize the advantages of the common market by such mechanisms as a transfer tax, decentralization of the administrative agencies, and a development bank charged with the responsibility of directing a large proportion of funds to the less industrialized partner states. In each of the above cases, the key challenge to current efforts at
[18] A fuller discussion of reciprocal pressures toward federation appears in Rothchild, "African Federations and the Diplomacy of Decolonization" (n. 7 above), pp. 515–23.
[19] On the use of distributable pool arrangements, see Peter Robson, Economic Integration in Africa (London: Allen and Unwin, 1969), pp. 112–14.
region building lay in the ability to agree on a formula that would balance the political and economic benefits of integration to all main actors simultaneously. Successful union, therefore, is not merely a general recognition of integration as rational choice; rather it should also be viewed as something akin to a "positive-sum" game affecting the security, administrative, and economic interests of all the participants at the bargaining table. And in light of current public expectations, such a mutuality of benefits seems far more pressing as a challenge than that encountered by early proponents of federation in the Western world.
Political Organization:
The Minimalist Implementation Pattern
Having looked at the major limitations upon implementing maximalist organization patterns, we shall now examine the alternative forms of organization more appropriate to current African circumstances and values. If, for the time being, political, economic, and social conditions make the adoption of classical federalism somewhat improbable, it follows that decision elites will have to avoid the reconciliational middle and move toward one of the polar extremes: unitary government or loose, interunit arrangements. The first alternative has appeal at the state level, as it enhances governmental capability, but because of territorial fears over the centralized power it engenders, it is not a realizable means of uniting currently sovereign states at the regional, continental, or extracontinental levels. Consequently, it is the second, looser (or minimalist) alternative that presently offers the widest scope for institutional experimentation in the present international system.
At the outset one is struck by the wide array of limitedpurpose multilateral arrangements that have dotted the African scene. We analyze these at three levels: the regional level (i.e., the East African Community), the continental level (i.e., the Organization of African Unity), and the extracontinental level (i.e., the African, Caribbean, and Pacific—ACP—Group). What makes them similar is their creation by prolonged negotiation,
their equality of membership rights, their acceptance of extensive territorial initiative and autonomy, and their limited but specific organization functions. They are created and maintained by a negotiating process that often stresses important concessions to the least cooperative bargaining partner or partners—a process largely akin to that which Ernst B. Haas depicts as "accommodation on the basis of the minimum common denominator."[20] To be sure, the intercessions of a secretarygeneral may lead to more flexible negotiating stances, with the bargaining partners reaching compromises by "splitting the difference," but in the main these loosely structured, minimalist arrangements represent a pragmatic response to the reality of sovereignty on the international scene.
Because current African circumstances necessitate that region-building be achieved by a process of prolonged negotiation, it is hardly surprising that the resulting structures sometimes prove to be ineffective as problem solvers. By their extensive concessions in the formative stages to territorial initiative, they create subsequent difficulties for those members of the elite committed to achieving organization purposes. At critical junctures, then, the logic of creating and maintaining these low-cost, loosely structured arrangements comes into conflict with the goals of joint action. All too often these new institutions lack the capacity to secure rational-choice objectives and must therefore go through periodic revisions in light of the new realities.
Functionalism:
The East African Community
Behind the approach adopted by the 1967 Treaty for East African Co-operation is an acceptance of a kind of supranationalism
[20] On the three types of compromise in international relations, see Ernst B. Haas, "International Integration: The European and the Universal Process," in International Political Communities: An Anthology (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, Anchor Books, 1966), pp. 95–96, and Beyond the Nation-State: Functionalism and International Organization (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1964), p. 111. Another example of such accommodation occurs in Article 6 of the Treaty of the Economic Community of West African States where, despite great variation among partner states in size of population and gross national product, it was provided that each member state would have two representatives on the Council of Ministers.
which falls short of a fully integrated system.[21] The structure set up by the treaty reflects a careful balancing of state responsibilities and regional economic, administrative, and technical cooperation. State interests are fully recognized and protected in all Community activities. Concessions to national interest are apparent, for example, in the various measures agreed upon to balance and promote industrial development among the partner states. The headquarters of various East African agencies that had long been concentrated in Nairobi were decentralized, each member state securing two of the main headquarters bodies. The East African Railways and East African Airways Corporation remain in Nairobi; Posts and Telecommunications and the East African Development Bank are assigned to Kampala, and the East African Harbours Corporation is sited at Dar es Salaam. The headquarters of the Community itself is allocated to Arusha, Tanzania. Though such a dispersion of activities entails considerable expense, it is justified as a form of aid to the less industrialized partners and a stabilizer for the whole arrangement. Other such stabilizing institutions set up under the treaty include a transfer tax (which may be imposed by any partner state with a deficit in its total interunit trade in manufactured goods on items imported from a member with which it is in deficit) and the East African Development Bank, which seeks, through a reallocative process, to promote balanced industrial development throughout the region as a whole.
In addition, decisions of the East African Authority—the highest executive organ of the Community—require the unanimous consent of the three heads of state. Unanimity is also mandatory for actions of the Common Market, Finance, Economic Consultative and Planning, Communications, and Research and Social Councils, whose membership consists of the three ministers for East African affairs (one nominated by the government of each state) and an equal number of other ministers from the constituent units. Territorial equality of
[21] These sections draw upon materials in Donald Rothchild, "East African Community: Experiment in Functional Integration," Africa Report 13, no. 4 (April 1968): 42–46, and his "From Hegemony to Bargaining," pp. 408–15.
representation is also a prominent feature of the East African Legislative Assembly, a body composed of the Chairman of the Assembly, the Secretary-General and Counsel to the Community, the three East African ministers, and twenty seven members (nine from each country) appointed by the partner states. Only peripherally is state sovereignty challenged by the treaty provisions. Doubtlessly, such realism facilitated the acceptance of the pact; at the same time, however, it circumscribed these institutions by limiting their capacity to cope with unforeseen conflicts.
The Challenge to the Institutional Experiment
The main challenge to institutional viability in East Africa came with the 1971 Uganda coup d'etat. Following Major-General Idi Amin Dada's assumption of power in Uganda, Tanzania and Uganda became enmeshed in a protracted struggle which had political, administrative, and military ramifications. Although border skirmishing did break out, the fighting remained small in scale. Even so, the very fact of hostile military engagements dramatized the existence of disintegrative forces at work in the Community organization. Not only did military encounters become the justification for a Uganda decision to sever air, water, and telecommunications links temporarily with Tanzania, but they raised real questions as to institutional effectiveness and survival.
The political and administrative difficulties arising from this bilateral conflict appear in the struggles over appointments, appropriations, communications and transportation links, and the functioning of the East African Authority. Tanzania's faithfulness to the former president of Uganda, Milton Obote, led almost inevitably to a refusal to recognize the new military regime and to participate with General Amin at meetings of the East African Authority. This executive crisis cast a shadow over Community operations, for appointments to high Community office required the joint agreement of the three East African heads of state sitting together. After Zarubarberi Bigirwenkya's term as secretary-general expired in March 1971, the organization struggled on for two months without an administrative head and finally resolved the crisis by quietly appointing a Kenyan, Charles Maina, to the office without the usual endorse-
ment of the East African Authority in formal session. Moreover, Tanzanian officials questioned Amin's right to replace Ugandans holding such Community posts as director general of East African Harbours Corporation or director general of East African Airways Corporation without first securing the consent of the partner states.
Intermeshed with the crisis over appointments was that involving the finances of the Community. The East African Community Appropriations Bill 1971–72, which provided an annual budget of £10 million toward the running of the General Fund Services, required passage by the East African Legislative Assembly, followed by the unanimous assent of the three heads of state. Consequently, when President Amin indicated that he would not sign the appropriations bill unless he was satisfied as to Tanzania's cooperative spirit (as shown by its willingness to allow Ugandan nominees to take up their Community assignments in Tanzania), the transnational system was gravely threatened. In Article 66, the treaty had specifically provided that in the event that an appropriation act had not come into effect by the first day of the new financial year, the East African Authority could authorize payments out of the general fund, provided that these monthly payments did not exceed one-twelfth of the total appropriation of the previous financial year and that such authorizations did not extend beyond September 30 of the new financial year. Thus it was a matter of considerable relief when, following a round of separate bilateral talks with President Kenyatta in Nairobi, measures aimed at a normalization of East African Community relations were announced in November 1971. In his private discussions with Kenyatta, Nyerere agreed that he would approve Uganda's nominees to the Community. After Kenyatta had relayed this confirmation to Amin in a telephone conversation, the general responded swiftly by signing the appropriations bill and lifting the ban on two highranking Tanzanian nationals serving the Community in Uganda.[22] Thus Kenyatta's personal intervention has proved
[22] In particular, see the discussions in Uganda Argus (Kampala), November 22, 1971, p. 10; and Daily Nation (Nairobi), November 23, 1971, p. 1.
crucial in ending the immediate crisis over appropriations and appointments. He had revealed once again the critical importance of leadership skill in managing conflicts affecting supranational organizations.
By assuming the mantle of a third-party mediator, then, Kenyan leaders were able to surmount state-centered demands in the period following the Uganda coup. However, despite this commitment in principle to the Community system, the centrifugal pulls of separate statehood worked a hardship on organizational efficiency. Thus Edwin Mtei, the new Community secretary-general, said, soon after assuming office in 1974, that the political climate and the morale of the Community staff were some of the factors contributing to the financial difficulties faced by a number of the Community corporations.[23] And a Ugandan member of the East African Legislative Assembly, W. Senteza-Kajubi, warned that the survival of the Community depended on the East African Authority's assembling. "Just [as] there can be no marriage by correspondence," he asserted, "so there can be no authority by correspondence. The three heads of states . . . must meet physically if the community's survival is to be guaranteed.[24]
In December 1974 the costs of organization increased as the Tanzanian government announced a temporary ban on heavy vehicles using roads in the northern part of the country. This announcement brought Kenyan-Zambian trade to a standstill and caused bitter protests on the part of Kenyan officials over alleged treaty violations. Dr. Munyua Waiyaki, Kenya's new foreign minister, strongly protested the Tanzanian initiative and went on to criticize as well the alleged expulsion of 10,000 Kenyans from Tanzanian border areas. Subsequent retaliations followed as roads were closed on the Kenya side of the border and a Tanzanian official employed by East African Harbours Corporation was told to leave Kenya on short notice.[25] Then, in 1975, as relations began to deteriorate noticeably and promi-
[23] Daily Nation (Nairobi), June 15, 1974, p. 5. Also see his comments to the Kenya Press Club in ibid., August 2, 1974, p. 3.
[24] Ibid., June 14, 1974, p. 5.
[25] Africa Research Bulletin, Political and Cultural Series 2, no. 12 (January 15, 1975): 3450–52.
nent Kenyan leaders began publicly to question the desirability of maintaining intercountry linkages, the East African Authority set up a new commission to review the treaty arrangement. What this commission will be able to salvage in the way of effective interunit coordination remains to be seen.
The difficulties involved in operating the common services in the face of such political tensions were broadly based. A number of the common services faced a crisis of performance as measured in terms of profitability. East African Airways, which showed a cumulative loss of Shs. 102,100,100/- in its operating account on December 31, 1972, was rescued in part by a decision the following year under which the three partner states would each contribute Shs. 23,000,000/- to finance the activities of the Corporation.[26] As changes were made in management accountancy procedures and services, the Corporation was able to announce improvements in load factors and profitability for the period that followed. But if East African Airways was largely able to overcome its performance difficulties by late 1973, other services were beginning to reveal serious problems of their own. Long profitable East African Harbours Corporation incurred a loss of Shs. 41,000,000/- in 1972, a reversal of fortune explained in part by a fall in operating revenues of Shs. 28,600,000/- at a time when total expenditures increased Shs. 12,400,000/-.[27] The 1972 annual report of the East African Posts and Telecommunications Corporation showed substantial operating profits (Shs. 54,000,000/-) offset by heavy losses incurred through write-offs of missing equipment (Shs. 10,800,000/-) and uncollected telephone bills (Shs. 62,100,000/-).[28] And the East African Railways Corporation, staggering under an overdraft of Shs. 44,364,700/-, has been unable to meet payrolls on time, to maintain a training school, to purchase equipment, and to provide the services expected of it.[29]
[26] Ibid., June 26, 1974, p. 5, and November 28, 1973, p. 1.
[27] Ibid., June 4, 1974, p. 4.
[28] Ibid., May 21, 1974, p. 6.
[29] Ibid., January 29, 1974, p. 3. The Railways had an accumulated deficit of nearly £8 million from 1970 and 1971. East African Standard (Nairobi), July 27, 1973, p. 8.
In part at least, this decline in corporate viability reflected state-centered demands as well as organizational strains arising from separate political interests. The desire for decentralized responsibility found various outlets in the post-Uganda-coup period: from the decentralization of stores in the East African Posts and Telecommunications Corporation to the dismantling of the East African Income Tax Department. In addition, an already difficult financial situation was complicated by the unwillingness of administrators in the three states to transfer funds to interterritorial use. "The Community," contends Alan Rake, "struggles against the militant national interest of its partner states. The struggle goes on at all levels, from the little men who block legitimate transfer of funds, to the supreme Community Authority itself formed by the three heads of state."[30] Thus in late 1973 and early 1974, the East African Railways Corporation was gripped by a financial crisis brought on in part by difficulties in transferring funds from the three territorial accounts. Even though the corporation had an overdraft of Shs. 44,346,700/-, the director general of the corporation noted that, as of January 12, 1974, there were nearly 41 million shillings in credit in the territorial accounts.[31] After further delays, the three partners reached an agreement under which each would pay 18 million shillings to clear outstanding overdrafts,[32] but not before revealing the extent to which decentralized decision-making complicated efficient supranational budgeting and allocation. At roughly the same time, the East African Posts and Telegraphs Corporation (EAPT) was placed in financial difficulties by the refusal of its Kenya and Tanzania offices to transfer funds to the corporation headquarters in Uganda. In this instance, a crisis was averted when the Finance Council of the Community intervened and ordered the two territorial offices to transfer certain specified funds for operational purposes.[33] Clearly the costs of decentralized
[30] Alan Rake, "Can East Africa Take the Strain?" African Development 8, no. 10 (October 1974): p. 18.
[31] Daily Nation (Nairobi), January 18, 1974, pp. 1, 32.
[32] Daily Nation (Nairobi), January 23, 1974, p. 24.
[33] £995,000 in the case of Kenya and £550,000 for Tanzania. Rake, p. 18.
responsibility were proving extremely high in terms of organization efficiency.
Macro-regional Alliance:
The Organization of African Unity
In turning to the continental level, one again sees a process in motion where the political dynamics surrounding the creation of an institutional arrangement—in this case, the Organization of African Unity—act to limit its effective performance of collective tasks. The OAU Charter, forged by the African heads of state and government at the Addis Ababa summit conference in 1963, represented as much in the way of structure as could be achieved at that time by means of direct bargaining. To be sure, political pan-Africanism was an important factor in promoting common elite values and aspirations; it contributed significantly to the overcoming of the fragmentation of the continent into the "high politics" Casablanca group and the "low politics" Monrovia and Brazzaville groups. But if pan-Africanist doctrine went far in bridging the deep chasm in the approaches to integration, it did little to clarify the true pathway to unity. As Diallo Telli, the first administrative secretary-general of the OAU, declared: "Pan-Africanism has never succeeded in developing a body of identifiable socioeconomic and political philosophy, nor has it succeeded in evolving a structural framework within which to operate on a continuing basis."[34] Thus, by the tenets of pan-Africanism, either the supranationalism of the Casablanca powers or the intergovernmental approach of the Monrovia and Brazzaville powers was theoretically valid, hence the necessity of interstate bargaining and accommodation to determine where the points of convergency lay.
The bargaining process of 1962 and 1963, which culminated in the Addis Ababa summit meeting of 1963, resulted in policies largely favorable to the Monrovia-Brazzaville minimalist position. The essential features of the Addis compromise are described by W. Scott Thompson and Richard Bissell as follows:
The organization was in effect the result of an ingenious bargain between the radicals, led by Sékou Touré, and the moderates, led by
[34] Diallo Telli, "The Organization of African Unity in Historical Perspective," African Forum 1, no. 2 (Fall 1965): 17.
the Emperor of Ethiopia. The radicals were given the form of African unity in the organization's aspirations; and the moderates and conservatives, who insisted that the OAU not assume supranational functions, were given the substance: that the OAU make the sovereignty of the African state its first principle.[35]
Although the preamble left ajar the door to further integration efforts by declaring that the African states were resolved to reinforce links by establishing and strengthening common institutions, by its vagueness on the issue it presented little actual threat to the majority of states bent on maintaining a minimalist structure. In part, this political defeat for the radicals was compensated for by concessions on the principles adopted in Article III of the charter; whereas the first five principles (the sovereign equality of member states, noninterference in the internal affairs of states, respect for state sovereignty and territorial integrity, the peaceful settlement of disputes, and the condemnation of political assassination and subversive activities) were responsive to the claims of the Monrovia powers, the principles on decolonization and nonalignment were concessions to the strong feelings of the Casablanca grouping.[36]
The way in which the African moderates and conservatives were advantaged by the bargaining outcomes can be seen in the charter's provisions for collective tasks, integration strategies, and organization structure. As noted above, the Addis bargain climaxed the Monrovia effort to gain African acceptance for the traditional norms of interstate relations.[37] Although applicable only to OAU member states, such principles as noninterference and respect for the integrity of sovereign states represented the triumph of order over change in international affairs. In the debates on the charter, several speakers from the moderate or conservative powers, such as Chad's Francois Tombalbaye,
[35] "Legitimacy and Authority in the OAU," African Studies Review 15, no. 1 (April 1972): 19.
[36] See the discussion in Zdenek Cervenka, The Organization of African Unity and its Charter (New York: Praeger, 1969), pp. 15, 34.
[37] Yashpal Tandon, "The Organization of African Unity as an Instrument and Forum of Protest," in Robert I. Rotberg and Ali A. Mazrui (eds.), Protest and Power in Black Africa (New York: Oxford University Press, 1970), p. 1178.
made pointed reference to the need for regularizing relations among independent countries.[38] And following the formation of the OAU, further efforts were made by these states to legitimize the existing international order. Among the most important of these was the 1964 resolution of the Assembly of Heads of State and Government on border disputes among African countries; by declaring that all member states pledge themselves to respect the borders existing at independence, the OAU went a long way toward validating the status quo.[39] It is noteworthy, in this regard, that when Kenya publicly rebuffed President Amin's claims to some one-third of its territory, governmental officials cited their fidelity to the OAU Charter, "whose paragraph 3 of Article III calls on member states to solemnly affirm and (leclare their adherence to respect the sovereignty and territorial integrity of each State.[40]
But for all the emphasis on gaining full acceptance of the existing African order, the OAU founding fathers were in broad agreement on the need for change—so far, at least, as it affected Africa's trade relationships with the outside world (see the discussion of ACP-EEC bargaining below), and continuing pockets of colonialism and racialism on the continent. For Nigeria's highly pragmatic prime minister, Alhaji Sir Abubakar Tafawa Balewa, there could be no accommodation with such unequal relationships. At its formative conferences as well as in its later actions, then, the OAU members closed ranks in principle on the southern African question, supporting a series of resolutions in the organization as well as at the United Nations condemning such practices and seeking to mobilize international action against the wrongdoers. A content analysis of available documents from 1900 to 1968 showed racial-colonial affairs to be second from the top in frequency of references, and, within that category, included emphasis on such objectives
[38] Addis Ababa Summit, 1963 (Addis Ababa: Ministry of Information, 1963), p. 37.
[39] AHSG/Res. 16, as quoted in Cervenka, Organization of African Unity, p. 94; also see the dliscussion in Zdenek Cervenka, "The Settlement of Disputes among Members of the Organization of African Unity," Verfassung und Recht in Ubersee 2 (2 Quartal 1974): 126–27.
[40] Weekly Review (Nairobi), February 23, 1976, p. 3.
as the application of sanctions against South Africa, condemnation of Rhodesia, increased financial contributions to the special fund for the Liberation of Africa, support for African freedom fighters, revocation of South Africa's mandate over South-West Africa, independence for all colonial territories in Africa, the application of economic sanctions against Portugal, and so forth.[41] In this regard it is significant that when the "Declaration on the Question of Dialogue" was adopted by the Heads of State in 1971, it was agreed that "any action to be taken by Member States in regard to the solution of the problems of colonialism, racial discrimination and Apartheid in Africa, must be undertaken within the framework of the Organization of African Unity and in full consultation with the Liberation Movements of the territories concerned.[42] However, it should be noted that this declaration did not stop Liberia's President Tolbert, for instance, from acting as a host to South Africa's prime minister, John Vorster; this highly personal initiative occurred outside the OAU framework and pointed up important differences between the moderates and militants on the proper role that the macro-regional alliance should take in dealing with the Southern African question.
Strategy of Integration
Bargaining outputs also show that the OAU moderates were advantaged with respect to integration policies. Ghana's Kwame Nkrumah got little support at Addis Ababa in his appeal for a maximalist federal type of arrangement. Instead, speaker after speaker at the summit conference referred to the need for "gradual" change, "realistic formulas," and "flexibility." "It seems to us," Ivory Coast's president, Felix Houphouet Boigny, declared, that "our ardent quest for unity must be matched by the greatest discretion, and at the same time by the will to proceed by progressive stages,
[41] Paul Saenz, "The Organization of African Unity in the Subordinate African Regional System," African Studies Review 13, no. 2 (September 1970): pp. 208–10.
[42] The Declaration is included in Colin Legum (ed.), African Contemporary Record 1971–1972 (London: Rex Collings, 1972), p. C3. In April 1975, a special OAU session in Dar es Salaam adopted a policy allowing African leaders, at the request of liberation groups, to make contacts with South African interests. This policy was subsequently upheld by the heads of states and governments, although they rejected "dialogue" as such. See Weekly Review (Nairobi), August 11, 1975, p. 9.
applying positive solutions to concrete problems, and leaving it to what I will call the 'dynamism of unity' to settle later on those questions which may still divide us today."[43] And it was this view of the integration process which ultimately triumphed. Even though Nkrumah persisted in the years immediately after the Addis Ababa summit conference in his effort to launch a union government of Africa, the moderates successfully defeated each proposal he advanced toward this end.
Structural Arrangement
Finally, the Addis bargain produced an organization structure conducive to the interests of the moderate and conservative powers. What emerged from the negotiating sessions was not a supranational but an intergovernmental organization with limited capacity for effective collective action.[44] A minimalist structure was established which protected the equal rights (but not the equal duties) of the members.[45] An examination of the three principal organs—the Assembly of Heads of State and Government, the Council of Ministers, and the General Secretariat—shows the OAU restricted in its capacity for effective action by a membership that takes pains to guard its sovereign equality.
The supreme organ of the OAU, the Assembly of Heads of State and Government, meets at least once a year to "discuss matters of common concern to Africa with a view to co-ordinating and harmonizing the general policy of the Organization." In addition, it is empowered to review the structure, functions, and acts of all organs or specialized agencies created under the charter.[46] Each member state is represented in assembly deliberations by its head of state and government or a duly accredited representative, and at these sessions each has an equal vote. Decisions are made by a two-thirds vote of the total membership of the organization, although, in procedural matters, a
[43] Addis Ababa Summit, 1963, p. 54. Also see T. O. Elias, "The Charter of the Organization of African Unity," American Journal of International Law 59, no. 2 (April 1965): 245.
[44] Telli, "Organization of African Unity," p. 21.
[45] Thus, T.O. Elias notes that member states "are required to contribute to the budget on the basis of the United Nations assessment, which is related to their unequal national incomes, and not on the basis of equality," "Charter," p. 251.
[46] Charter of the Organization of African Unity, Article VIII.
simple majority of all member states suffices. Such a heavy majority on substantive matters makes agreement on controversial questions difficult;[47] in addition, the autonomous powers of the member states are safeguarded by the limited nature of the legal obligations that these resolutions impose upon members. As Zdenek Cervenka observes, the emphasis on the sovereignty of member states and the failure to create an organ with effective disciplinary power leads to the conclusion that "within the context of the Charter of the Organisation, resolutions would be recommendations to the Members of the Organisation."[48]
Minimal commitment on the part of the membership is also shown by an examination of the structure and powers of the Council of Ministers. The council, which consists of the foreign ministers or a duly accredited alternative, meets at least twice a year. In its capacity as an unofficial "cabinet" to the Assembly of Heads of State and Government, the council is entrusted with the responsibility for preparing assembly conferences and for implementing assembly decisions. In addition, Article XIII of the charter provides that "it shall coordinate inter-African co-operation in accordance with the instructions of the Assembly and in conformity with Article II(2) of the present Charter." At its sessions, each member state has one vote, and resolutions are determined by a simple majority of the members of the council. It should be noted, however, that such resolutions are recommendations only, and therefore impose no legal obligation upon the membership of the OAU.[49]
Finally, the charter provided for a General Secretariat, to be directed by an administrative secretary-general. Although the administrative secretary-general was given broad administrative powers, limits were placed on his individual initiative from the outset. "The founders of the OAU," states James H. Polhemus, "had not sought to create a strong international secretariat, but rather the organisational minimum." [50] Like the secretary-
[47] John Markakis, "The Organisation of African Unity: A Progress Report," Journal of Modern African Studies 4, no. 2 (October 1966): 149.
[48] Cervenka, Organization of African Unity and its Charter, p. 45.
[49] Ibid., p. 51.
[50] James H. Polhemus, "The Provisional Secretariat of the O.A.U., 1963–64," Journal of Modern African Studies 12, no. 2 (June 1974): 293.
general of the League of Nations or the United Nations, he was to give administrative support to the assembly and the council, not to be a crisis manager. Yet, despite all efforts to restrict the activities of the administrative secretary-general, he has tended nonetheless to cast a larger silhouette upon the African scene than the founding fathers had intended. As a consequence, the somewhat controversial Diallo Telli ran into difficulties in his 1972 bid for a third term in office; the election of his successor, Nzo Ekangaki, was "widely interpreted as a move by the organisation to ensure that the Secretariat [was] headed by a man who [would] confine himself to administering the organisation, instead of concerning himself with political matters as well."[51] Even so, Nzo Ekangaki was himself to run into difficulties. As informed African opinion reacted negatively to an oil consultancy agreement he signed with the London and Rhodesia Company (Lonrho), Ekangaki decided to take the prudent course of resignation.[52] The episode serves as further evidence of the limits placed on the administrative secretary-general's initiative.
The Consequences of a Minimalist Structure
Although a minimal structure may have been as much as could be achieved by direct bargaining, certain consequences for policy-making proved inescapable. To be sure, the very existence of the Organization of African Unity led to a variety of beneficial outcomes: the mediation of border conflicts, the coordination of policies at the United Nations, moral and material assistance to the liberation movements, the coordination of policies on handling refugees, and the establishment of norms of African interstate relations. In the decade after its establishment, the OAU officially acted as a valuable forum for the discussion of five conflicts: Algeria-Morocco, 1963; Ethiopia-Somalia-Kenya, 1964–1967; Congo (Leopoldville), 1964–1965; Rwanda-Burundi, 1967; and the Nigerian civil war, 1967–1970. Its role
[51] B. V. Mtshali, "Mr. Secretary—General - an Official, or a Politician?" Times of Zambia (Ndola), July 8, 1972, p. 6.
[52] Ekangaki, charged an editorial in the Daily Nation of Nairobi, "usurped the powers of sovereign states in signing the agreement" (June 4, 1974, p. 6). It seems probable that Ekangaki's criticism of member states for failing to pay dues may also have contributed to his undoing. See George Bennett, "Ekangaki out, Eteki in," African Development 8 (August 1974): 19.
as manager in a crisis proved important in at least three of these disputes. Thus J. S. Nye concludes that, in terms of unweighted successes, the organization helped to isolate three conflicts, to stop hostilities in one of the four relevant cases, to abate the conflict in two instances, and to provide one permanent settlement.[53] Although ineffective in dealing with internal conflicts within member states (the Sudan, Uganda, Angola), the OAU was useful in its role as conciliator in conflicts among member states.[54] Moreover, by providing an arena for African diplomatic activity, the organization offered an important opportunity for the achievement of joint purposes in various political, economic, technical, strategic, and sociological fields.
Yet the minimal structure agreed upon at Addis Ababa created some difficulties in performance as well. The need for a machinery of economic planning and coordination, effective extraction of fiscal resources, judicial settlement of disputes, and administrative enforcement of decisions became apparent in the first decade of the organization's life. Denied the means of effective control of conflict as well as economic and military coordination, it is not surprising that the OAU proved unable to rise to the challenges it set for itself in the charter. Moreover, such collective tasks as decolonization and the elimination of remaining evidences of racial discrimination on the continent were frustrated by insufficient organizational capacity. "As with all international organisations," comments Colin Legum, "the OAU tends to produce policies unsatisfactory to militants."[55] This is certainly true for the ending of colonialism and racialism. Lack of diplomatic support for the 1965 recommendation on breaking ties with Britain over its ineffective handling of the Rhodesian rebellion was the cause of considerable embarrassment, for in the final analysis, only nine members carried out the recommendation. In this respect, Yashpal Tandon's assessment makes much sense:
The influence of the OAU on Britain was necessarily minimal. . . . It is conceivable that if all the African Commonwealth states, including
[53] Nye, Peace in Parts (n. 2 above), p. 159.
[54] Ibid., pp. 155–60, 172.
[55] "Africans Back War on White South," Observer (London), May 27, 1973, p. 7.
Nigeria and Malawi, had acted in concert in severing diplomatic relations with Britain or in threatening to disrupt the Commonwealth by leaving it, they might have made of themselves a much more powerful pressure group. It is unlikely, however, that they would have necessarily been able to push Britain into resorting to force against Rhodesia.[56]
Similarly, lack of solidarity on economic and military matters greatly curtailed organizational effectiveness in coping with the southern African challenge. Over the years, resolutions have been passed which called on all the world's powers to deny facilities to ships and aircraft going to or coming from the white-dominated states in the south, to boycott their goods, and to place sanctions against exports to these territories. In November 1973 a major breakthrough seemed to be in the making as the Arab chiefs of state, responding to an OAU appeal, announced a halting of oil exports to the white-dominated lands in Southern Africa. However, the effect of these economic measures has been far short of decisive, with the result that many African leaders have come to look upon forcible military action as the only sure means of transforming the situation.
Nevertheless, the OAU has had no easy time in bringing its members together for military purposes. Its Coordinating Committee for the Liberation of Southern Africa has been unable either to unite the various nationalist groups engaged in the liberation struggle or to secure adequate financial resources from its membership. In recent years, the OAU had run into severe financial difficulties; in April 1974, Secretary-General Ekangaki complained that a number of member states were not meeting their financial obligations on a regular basis. As a result of these nonpayments, contributions by member states had come to represent less than 50 percent of the 1974 draft budget.[57] Although the Liberation Fund is not joined to the regular budget, it suffers in the same way from the failures of its membership to pay regular contributions. Thus of $634,800 promised to six liberation groups in the period 1967–68, the
[56] Yashpal Tandon, "The Organization of African Unity as an Instrument and Forum of Protest" (n. 37 above), p. 1171.
[57] Ekangaki explained that, among others, five all-African organizations made donations amounting to $600,000. Daily Nation (Nairobi), April 3, 1974, p. 1.
Liberation Committee was actually able to spend only $77,164.[58] Such a level of expenditure was compatible with a significant political, not military, involvement in the liberation struggle. A more dynamic initiative clearly entailed increased organization capacity - that is, a move from an intergovernmental to a supranational body. For the time being, however, such a change seems precluded by the bargaining process inherent in the relations of Africa's sovereign states.
Extraregional Bargaining Party:
The ACP Group
Finally, to turn to integration at the extracontinental level (the ACP group of countries), we see a contrast here with the two minimalist examples already discussed: the most limited in organizational terms is the most effective in achieving collective purposes. In part, this outcome is explained by the functionally specific nature of their program. As Ernst B. Haas contends, "Functionally specific international programs, if organizationally separated from diffuse orientations, maximize both welfare and integration.[59] In part, it is also explained by the process of negotiations that unfolded over time. Thus, in a series of bargaining encounters from the 1963 agreement on the Yaoundé convention to the 1975 ACP-EEC accord, a series of mutual (albeit unequal) adjustments took place. One agreement became the model for the next—that is, the Yaoundé Association became the model for Nigeria's agreement with the EEC in 1966; the Nigerian convention (although stillborn) provided the basis for subsequent negotiations between the EEC and the East African states; the first Arusha agreement (of 1968, which was never ratified by all the EEC member states before its expiry date) was similar in most respects to the second Arusha agreement (which was concluded in 1969 and came into force on January 1, 1971), and these experiences, taken together, provided the springboard for the ACP-EEC negotiations that fol-
[58] See the estimates in Yashpal Tandon, "The Organization of African Unity and the Liberation of Southern Africa," in Christian P. Potholm and Richard Dale (eds.), Southern Africa in Perspective (New York: Free Press, 1972), p. 255.
[59] Haas, Beyond the Nation-State (n. 20, above), p. 47. For an analysis of possible trade effects deriving from EEC association, see A. D. Ouattara, "Trade Effects of the Association of African Countries with the EEC," IMF Staff Papers 20, no. 2 (July 1973): 449–543.
lowed. In this ongoing process, expanded choice was possible because the bargaining partners, each of whom possessed a functionally specific international program of its own, could move stage by stage toward an improving pattern of relationships. We shall return to this important subject in our conclusion.
The Unequal Exchange of Yaoundé I
The initial bargaining encounter, which resulted in the Yaoundé convention, pitted extremely unequal rivals against one another. The eighteen African Associates, many of whom remained structurally dependent on Europe after independence, were at a poor vantage point from which to bargain over substantive details with the rich and powerful European Common Market nations. They could make appeals for generosity, but they could not bring major concessions. The one-sidedness of the exchange is made clear by I. William Zartman's assessment of the African position at the bargaining table:
The Africans' greatest strength was their weakness. Their underdevelopment gave them the substance for appeals to the Six. It also gave them an excuse for not offering greater concessions. It was the source of their warnings. By putting their fate in the Europeans' hands . . . they maximized the chances of making the obligations stick, and of achieving greater results - no matter how limited—than if they had engaged in a hard bargaining process with nothing to bargain with.[60]
The consequences of this bargaining weakness on the part of the eighteen associated states can be seen in the concessions they agreed upon in the Yaoundé convention. In securing assured access to EEC markets for their products and a pledge of development aid totalling $800 million over the period 1964–1969, the eighteen accepted Europe's right to levy taxes on tropical imports, the omission of a "most favored nation" clause, and the principle of "reciprocity," under which the Six gained a distinct advantage over other industrial states in their markets. Even though the associated states were permitted to raise tariffs, to impose other restrictions on European imports in order to further their development, to protect their infant
[60] I. William Zartman, The Politics of Trade Negotiations between Africa and the European Economic Community: The Weak Confront the Strong (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1971), p. 64.
industries or to contribute to their budgets, this preference for products from the European Community represented a much resented freezing of the status quo. An unequal international division of labor was perpetuated, with the African associates exporting commodities and importing finished products from their traditional trading partners. For Kwame Nkrumah, "the limited neo-colonialism of the French period is now being merged in the collective neo-colonialism of the European Common Market which enables other States, hitherto outside the French preserve, to profit by the system."[61]
Exchanges with Commonwealth Africa
A number of Commonwealth African countries, fearful that the EEC's common external tariff would hold down their expanding trade with Europe, sought means for ensuring commercial advantages without the alleged political costs of association.[62] In 1966, Nigeria and the EEC reached an association agreement aimed at "promot[ing] an increase of trade between the Community and Nigeria and thus contribut[ing] to the development of international trade."[63] The agreement, following the example of Yaoundé in many of its provisions, guaranteed access to European markets for Nigerian exports, with the exception of four products—cocoa beans, peanut oil, palm oil, and plywood—which would be subject to import quotas based on Nigerian exports of these items to the Six in the period 1962–1964. Unlike Yaoundé, however, the association made no provision for economic aid. In return, Nigeria agreed to eliminate customs duties and charges as well as quantitative restrictions on twenty six products imported from the EEC states. Although these items represented less than 2 percent of total Nigerian imports, and although Nigeria retained certain rights to reimpose tariffs and quantitative restrictions on these
[61] Kwame Nkrumah, Neo-Colonialism: The Last Stage of Imperialism (New York: International Publishers, 1965), p. 19.
[62] For evidence that Nigerian fears were unwarranted, see Olasupo Ojedokun, "The Changing Pattern of Nigeria's International Economic Relations: The Decline of the Colonial Nexus, 1960–1966," Journal of Developing Areas 6, no. 4 July 1972): 546.
[63] Federal Republic of Nigeria, Agreement Establishing an Association between the European Economic Community and the Republic of Nigeria (Lagos: Federal Ministry of Information, 1966), Art. 1.
products to protect developmental and fiscal needs, these provisions on reciprocity were to cause considerable resentment in this leading African state. In the end, however, it was France and Luxembourg which failed to ratify the agreement (presumably for political reasons), [64] and the association proved stillborn.
Perhaps the most significant outcome of the Nigerian-EEC negotiation was its contribution to the ongoing interactional process between Africa and Europe. Fearful of a significant loss of trade unless their exports secured the same preferences as those accorded the Yaoundé group,[65] the East African countries held three rounds of negotiations with the EEC, resulting, in 1968, with the first Arusha agreement. Again great pains were taken to avoid the political implications of associate status. As with its Nigerian predecessor, the association agreement had the specific objective of promoting trade between the partner states of the East African Community and the EEC. Although access was secured for a broad range of East African exports, the delegations from Kenya, Uganda, and Tanzania were disappointed over the insertion of quota provisions on coffee, cloves, and tinned pineapples, and over the inclusion of provisions giving preferential treatment to a list of fifty-nine products from "the Six."
In the final analysis, the first Arusha agreement failed to gain the necessary ratification from all the EEC members and expired on May 31, 1969, the same date as the Yaoundé convention then in existence. Nevertheless, it did manage to provide the model for the second Arusha agreement, which was signed on September 24, 1969, and came into force on January 1, 1971. Under the terms of the revised association agreement, the EEC suspended customs duties on most East African products in exchange for preferential treatment for
[64] For a discussion of the reasons for French resistance to the proposed trade agreement with Nigeria, see "Nigeria and the French," West Africa, May 8, 1965, p. 503. As to the complications arising from the Nigerian civil war, see Zarrtman, Politics of Trade Negotiations, p. 93.
[65] M. N. Kotomari, "East Africa's Association with the EEC," a paper presented to the Universities of East Africa Social Sciences Conference, Makerere University, Kampala, December 1971, p. 6.
some fifty items in the East African market. The agreement also applied annual quotas to East African exports of coffee (56,000 tons), cloves (100 tons), and tinned pineapples (860 tons). East Africans were certainly disappointed over the concessions on quota restrictions and reciprocity, but their general attitude, as expressed in an editorial in the Nationalist, was to "make the best of it."[66] Further marginal gains occurred in 1972 when the representatives of the East African Community and the EEC agreed to revisions in the association agreement. In these Nairobi talks, the Europeans agreed to double the export market for duty-free tinned pineapples and to make further reductions in the levy on maize; meanwhile, the East Africans agreed to cut the charge on movement certificates for coffee exported to the EEC member states by more than one-third.[67] A series of policy decisions were being realized which had the effect of expanding opportunities for both bargaining partners.
As the Arusha agreement and the second Yaoundé agreement of 1969 both ran their courses, the stage was set for a full-scale scrutiny of the extracontinental relationship. For one thing, the European core had been enlarged to include Britain and two others. For another, the French-speaking African associates had become increasingly restive under the existing arrangement. The Yaoundé associates were generally disappointed with the 1969 negotiating outcomes: Europe's refusal to include a "most favored nation" clause, its right to levy taxes on tropical imports, and its allegedly ungenerous aid commitment ($800 million over a five-year period). African leaders were well aware that the Yaoundé convention had done little to produce trade. EEC imports (mostly primary products and raw materials) from the Yaoundé states had fallen from 3.5 percent to 2.4 percent of total EEC imports in the period 1959–1969, and the decline in trade terms had made EEC economic assistance roughly half as valuable as had been anticipated during the 1969 negotiations.[68] By 1973, President Leopold Senghor of
[66] Editorial, Nationalist (Dar es Salaam), July 11, 1969, p. 4. Also see D. Wadada Nabudere, "The Arusha Association Agreement with the European Economic Community," Eastern Africa Law Review 6, no. 2 (1973): 145–74.
[67] East African Standard (Nairobi), February 23, 1972, p. 17.
[68] Patrick Gilkes, "Africa Looks for a Better Deal with the EEC," Times (London), October 15, 1973, p. 16.
Senegal, one of the staunchest defenders of the Yaoundé concept, was urging that the next convention take into account both the deterioration of the terms of trade (caused partly by European inflation) and the need for stabilization of export earnings in the developing countries.[69] The stage was set for a careful probing of all existing relationships.
The Emergence of ACP Cooperation
As the next round of talks on EEC-African relations approached, the environment for negotiations shifted noticeably. Not only had both the Third World and its European rivals become acutely sensitive to the shortage of raw materials, but the African states had come to acquire a unity of purpose previously unknown. African leaders showed greater awareness than ever before of their contribution to European development. As Wenike Briggs, Nigeria's federal trade commissioner, declared with respect to Africa's bargaining position: "It is most unlikely that Europe would say 'No' to Africa, its raw materials and its markets. . . . It is not easy for her to turn to another region and have ready replacements. . . . Let us draw up a platform of co-operation worthy of Africa and see if Europe will turn it down."[70] Africa would continue to provide its raw materials, but it expected a proper quid pro quo. In addition to this awareness of resource indispensability was a bargaining strength based on the emergence of a common front. Africa, in Nzo Ekangaki's words, "offer[ed] to negotiate with Europe as one block and not in piecemeal groups."[71] Its ability to make good on this offer, and in the end to bring forty six African, Caribbean, and Pacific countries together, greatly enhanced its ability to influence bargaining outcomes.
In large part, it was Britain's entry into an enlarged EEC which set the stage for a new African initiative on extraregional trade relations. Protocol 22 of the Treaty of Accession listed twenty "associable" Commonwealth ACP states and offered them a choice of three types of relationships with the EEC:
[69] Roger Berthoud, "Senegal Leader Urges EEC Link for 19 Commonwealth States," Times (London), March 22, 1973, p. 6.
[70] African Development 7, no. 9 (September 1973): 7.
[71] Nzo Ekangaki's ten-point platform for the African-EEC talks is reprinted in Colin Legum (ed.), Africa Contemporary Record 1973–74 (New York: Africana Publishing Company, 1974), p. C20.
associate status, a convention of association (such as the Arusha agreement), or a trade agreement. Although Mauritius immediately opted to become an associate under the second Yaoundé convention, the remaining nineteen hesitated, seeking a formula that would assure them access to traditional European markets without the reverse obligations of association. Their search for alternatives led to a series of meetings in the winter and spring of 1973, largely under OAU auspices, which went far in harmonizing the objectives and procedural tactics of the African states. In May 1973, at Abidjan, Ivory Coast, the African Associates and Associables agreed upon an eight-point program. These points, adopted later that month by the OAU heads of state in Addis Ababa, included the following guiding principles:
(1) Non-reciprocity for trade and tariff concessions given by the EEC;
(2) extension of a non-discriminatory basis toward third countries of the provisions on the rights of establishment;
(3) revision of the rules of origin to facilitate the industrial integration of Africa;
(4) revision of the provisions concerning the movement of payments and capital to take account of the objective of monetary independence in African countries;
(5) the dissociation of EEC financial and technical aid from any particular form of relationship with the EEC;
(6) free and assured access to EEC markets for all African products, including processed and semi-processed agricultural products whether or not they are subject to the common agricultural policy of the EEC;
(7) the guaranteeing to African countries of stable, equitable, and remunerative prices in EEC markets for their main products;
(8) agreements concluded with the EEC should not adversely affect intra-African cooperation.[72]
At Lagos, in July 1973, the OAU states went further toward securing effective unity by nominating Nigeria's trade commissioner, Wenike Briggs, as the spokesman for the African group at the forthcoming Brussels talks and by requesting that the
[72] West Africa, July 23, 1973, pp. 991–92.
OAU secretary-general set up a secretariat in Brussels to service the African team. Such continuing OAU involvement in the EEC-ACP bargaining encounters was of critical importance. By legitimating these negotiations, the OAU helped to overcome the reluctance of the nonassociated states to take part in a process they viewed as having furthered collective neocolonialism under the Yaoundé agreements.
EEC-ACP Negotiations
At the bargaining table in July 1973, the nine EEC states sat down to negotiate with what were finally to be forty six ACP countries. The ACP group included the eighteen Yaoundé associated states, thirteen Commonwealth African countries, six other African countries (Liberia, Ethiopia, Guinea, Equitorial Guinea, Guinea Bissau, and the Sudan), six Commonwealth Caribbean countries (Jamaica, Barbados, Guyana, Grenada, Trinidad, and the Bahamas), and three Commonwealth Pacific Ocean states (Fiji, Tonga, and Western Samoa). This number created a critical mass of ACP members sufficient to ensure sorne measure of mutual adjustment. Such a change in relative bargaining strength was apparent as early as the Brussels talks of July, for Wenike Briggs quickly took the initiative and called for a new agreement based on the eight principles set forth at Abidjan. ACP's unity of purpose and effective leadership put the somewhat disunited EEC states at an initial disadvantage, and what followed were long delays on the European side in responding to the ACP position briefs.[73]
The main issues dividing the two bargaining rivals were those on reciprocity, guaranteed access for African commodities and raw materials, stabilization of export earnings, industrial cooperation, and the size of the European Development Fund. On some of these issues, European spokesmen seemed quite flexible. As early as April 1973, the European Commission, in an effort to improve its commercial relationships with the African states, proposed a plan for stabilizing their income from exports of certain selected products to the community. When outlining the original scheme, M. Jean-Francois Deniau, the commissioner responsible for development and cooperation, observed that what the commission had in mind was a form of
[73] For statements as to Africa's frustration over these delays, see the Times (London), October 19, 1973, p. 10.
insurance based on the norm of receipts for each product. The community, he explained, would bridge the gap between the reduced receipts and the norm of receipts during bad times.[74] Later, in the 1975 Lomé convention, it was provided that any of the ACP countries depending for more than 7.5 percent of their export earnings on these specified products (among them sugar, peanuts and peanut oil, cotton, cocoa, coffee, bananas, tea, and iron ore) would be eligible for financial support from a 375 million Units of Account (or undevalued U.S. dollars) fund set up under the Stabex scheme. And in the case of the twenty four least developed countries in the ACP group, a mere 2.5 percent drop in export earnings from these products would qualify them for help under the plan.[75] In its first year of operation, a financial ceiling of 75 million U.A. (approximately $90 million) was set up under the Stabex scheme; the sums paid out to various ACP recipients under the scheme were as shown in Table 21.
The European Commission also showed itself to be favorably inclined toward the African position on the issues of reverse preference and rules of origin. In regard to the first, their thinking was no doubt influenced by the limited importance of the African export market. The entire export market of the Yaoundé states came to only 2 percent of EEC sales to all noncommunist countries, hardly enough to warrant a protracted struggle for reciprocal tariff concessions.[76] Therefore, at the August 1974 EEC-ACP negotiations at Kingston, the European Commission accepted the principle of nonreciprocity; henceforth most ACP agricultural and industrial products would gain free access into EEC markets without making any provision for return concessions for European goods imported into the ACP countries. Furthermore, the European Commission eased the provisions dealing with the rules of origin on ACP exports
[74] Roger Berthoud, "Plan to Give African States Stable Incomes," Times (London), April 6, 1973, p. 8.
[75] EEC-ACP Convention of Lomé, reprinted in the Courier, No. 31 (Brussels: Commission of the European Communities, March 1975), Title II, Ch. 1.
[76] West Africa, July 2, 1973, p. 883. On this, see also the statement of Dr. Robert Ouko, the East African Minister for Common Market and Economic Affairs, in Daily Nation (Nairobi),November 21, 1973, p. 5.
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to EEC markets. Under the old agreements the EEC had applied highly restrictive rules as to the proportion of value added in the ACP countries; now, under the Lomé convention, ACP industrial activity would be given a boost by a reduction in the proportion of value to be added and by initiatives in the form of joint industrial ventures and the granting of soft loans for industrial projects.[77]
Clearly the Kingston meeting marked a major turning point. With general agreement reached on such basic issues as nonreciprocity, income stabilization, rules of origin, and industrial cooperation, it remained to arrive at an agreement on the technical details of defining rules of origin, the terms of the stabilization scheme, and EEC farm protectionism, as well as to settle such issues as the level of aid and the price of sugar. Up to the very end, the two sides were far apart on the issue of economic assistance over the five-year period. The ACP called for the establishment of a European Development Fund with some 8,000 million Units of Account at its disposal; the EEC countered by offering 3,000 million, which proved to be close to the 3,550 million Units of Account (2,625 million as European Development Fund grants and loans at low rates of interest, 390 million as loans from the European Investment Bank, 375 million as funds for the stabilization of export earnings, and 160 million as assistance to dependent territories and departments overseas) finally agreed upon.[78] The aid amounts were less than satisfactory to some of the African Associated States because of the effects of inflation and the expansion in the number of recipients. The final aid package seemed more acceptable to these countries, however, when it
[77] West Africa, August 5, 1974, p. 953.
[78] For a discussion of the divergence of positions on the issue of financial assistance, see Carl A. Ehrhardt, "ACP Countries Seek Association with EEC," Aussen Politik 25, no. 4 (1974): 395–97. In an instance of external actor facilitation of African integration it was declared that approximately 10 percent of the total financial resources provided as community aid for economic and social development of the ACP states would be used to support regional projects. EEC-ACP Convention of Lomé, Title IV, Article 47, Sect. 2. On a similar role in United States aid policy, see Donald Rothchild, "America's Regionalism-in-Aid Policy," East Africa Journal 5, no. 4 (April 1968): 17–20.
was realized that populous Nigeria would not be drawing on the European Development Fund. On sugar, French and Belgian opposition to guaranteed access of 1.4 million tons of Commonwealth sugar to the EEC was largely overcome by British determination to assure continued access for her traditional suppliers. According to the last-minute agreement worked out in Brussels, Britain agreed to pay the relatively high price of $260 a ton until the end of 1975, with prices being adjusted afterward to reflect the level of world market prices.
The nine EEC and forty six ACP states had successfully reached a five-year agreement of global proportions. In the hard bargaining that ensued, Europe made concessions to the LDCs in order to assure access to markets and resources vital for her continued well-being. And if the ACP countries failed, as a consequence of their unequal bargaining strength, to secure all their objectives, a series of decisions was in process of unfolding which offered some possibilities for expanded choice in years to come.
Conclusion:
Toward a Middle Implementation Strategy
Regional, continental, and extracontinental integration gains its policy relevance for African decision-makers from its dual capacity to enhance African economic opportunity and to reduce external dependency. Africa's structural dependency on its former metropoles (now collectively linked in the EEC) arises from the long tradition of unequal economic exchange between Africa and the industrializing world.[79] This structurally induced inequality continues to be reflected in the adverse and degenerating terms of trade between African primary producers and their industrialized trading partners abroad.[80]
The problem confronting current African decision elites is
[79] See, for example, Anthony G. Hopkins, An Economic History of West Africa (New York: Columbia University Press, 1973).
[80] Samir Amin, Accumulation on a World Scale: A Critique of the Theory of Underdevelopment, 2 vols. (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1974).
to restructure these inherited relationships so as to enhance political choice while setting policies which expand economic options through the enlargement of productivity, the efficient allocation of resources, and the effective distribution of output. In certain circumstances, policy externalization can promote such multiple objectives. If aggressively pursued, it forces the partner states to undergo a social learning process involving increased internal collaboration as well as increased external collective equality with its bargaining rival.[81] But essential to a dynamic of changing transnational relationships is the element of ongoing process. It is this critical feature which distinguishes the largely static African efforts at regional and continental unification of the past decade from the forceful chain of events marking EEC-ACP trade negotiations. Not only did the hastily imposed classical maximalist implementation patterns of the departing colonial actors prove insufficiently durable, but a number of the alternative minimalist implementation patterns displayed an inability to grow and achieve collective goals. Consequently, an important difference can be observed in the performance of minimalist arrangements themselves. Whereas the more heavily burdened institutions at the regional and continental levels were weakened by the internal costs of bargaining, the more functionally specific extracontinental ACP grouping created for the purpose of external bargaining proved to be the most effective in achieving organization goals.
In our judgment, current decision analysis on the integration process often suffers from the limitations of both the maximalist and the minimalist strategies as traditionally conceived. The maximalist, or comprehensive, approach to decision-making assumes the capacity for decisive leadership in securing rational policy aims. Key political actors have the means at their disposal to arrive at, implement, and evaluate the consequences of their decisions. The rational decision-maker is
[81] Schmitter, Autonomy or Dependence (n. 1 above), chap. 1. For a discussion of the positive effects of the external environment on the harmonization of policies among the states comprising the Union Africaine et Malgache system (particularly in the area of commercial law), see Abdul A. Jalloh, Political Integration in French-Speaking Africa, Research Series, No. 20 (Berkeley: Institute of International Studies, 1973), p. 123.
in control of his situation, able to discern the proper strategy and to manipulate his environment in such a way as to secure his objectives. As attractive as such a maximalist model might seem in theory, we see it as inflexible and as tending to underestimate the constraints upon rational action in the real world. Assuming that valid data are assembled on which to base decisions, this approach underrates the interactional costs of agreeing upon, implementing, and assessing the consequences of decisions. The bargaining costs of voluntary integration mount as the decision group is enlarged, increasing the costs of organizing decisions among sovereign actors. To be sure, the comprehensive planner makes an important contribution through his delineation of large goals, but such an achievement is no guarantee of success in the detailed, and often tedious, process of negotiations.[82]
If the maximalist approach is rigid and indifferent to details, the minimalist approach, as exemplified by African regional and continental integration experiences, concentrates on fine points to the virtual exclusion of broader issues. In adopting an incremental strategy for change, the decision-maker is less hampered by his inability to command resources. He accepts goals and values as "givens," and works within this environment to secure whatever marginal gains are possible. Such an approach may be suited to an understanding of normal, day-to-day budgetary or legislative processes within settled and developed countries; however, where basic social values and policy alternatives cannot be taken for granted, as in the case of interstate integration in Africa, a strategy of "muddling through" is unable to cope with the challenge at hand. To the extent that African regionalism or continentalism involves structured change in a specific direction, a minimalist strategy, with
[82] On this, see the excellent discussion in Amitai Etzioni, The Active Society (New York: Free Press, 1968), chap. 12, and his "Mixed-Scanning: A 'Third' Approach to Decision-Making," Public Administration Review 27, no. 5 (December 1967): 385–92. Also Robert A. Dahl and Charles E. Lindblom, Politics, Economics and Welfare (New York: Harper and Row, 1953), pp. 78–85; and Colin Leys, "The Analysis of Planning," in Colin Leys (ed.), Politics and Change in Developing Countries (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969), pp. 247–55.
its cautious and reformist orientation, is an uncertain guide to the more fundamental tasks of societal innovation. As Stanley Hoffman puts the matter, there are grounds for fearing that a minimalist implementation strategy will tend "to become, at best, like a spiral that coils ad infinitum."[83]
Obviously a middle way is essential. An effective strategy for decision-making in the case at hand must bring together the maximalist's ability to set guidelines and the minimalist's necessary concern for limited policy adjustments. Without comprehensive goals, a process of limited, mutual adjustment might move aimlessly about; but if collective tasks are widely accepted, these might act as an indispensable guideline to political actors. But how is this to be done? Part of the answer might well lie in something akin to Amitai Etzioni's "mixed scanning" approach which combines a detailed examination of some sectors with a "truncated" review of others.[84] But useful as it might be as a tool of gathering information and evaluating complicated data, it still holds out little guarantee of effective coordinated action among sovereign states.
A part of the answer to this question might also be revealed by an examination of the various implementation strategies discussed above. Even though a great deal more research is necessary before any tentative findings can be reached, a clue may be at hand in the relative successes and nonsuccesses in the analysis of these respective minimalist implementation patterns. Whereas decision-making in regard to the East African Community and the OAU showed a somewhat static process involving substantial concessions to the least cooperative bargaining partners, decision-making in EEC-ACP relationships appeared dynamic and sequential. What implications can be drawn, then, from the special case of EEC-ACP relationships? Here a main distinguishing characteristic lies in the existence of a sequence of bargaining outcomes with a nonparticipant third party (the EEC).[85]
[83] Hoffman, "Obstinate or Obsolete?" (n. 12 above), p. 909.
[84] Etzioni, "Mixed-Scanning," p. 389.
[85] On sequential models, see Sidney Verba, "Sequences and Development," in Leonard Binder et al., Crises and Sequences in Political Development (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1971), pp. 283–316.
The process of expanding ACP-EEC trade negotiations clearly represents something which falls between comprehensive and incremental change. On the one hand, African negotiators fixed their star upon broad-ranging objectives (the reduction of dependency and the maximization of economic growth and development) as they engaged in collective bargaining encounters with a powerful extracontinental actor; on the other hand, they were pragmatic in their acceptance of the need to build over time upon the exchanges of the past. By creating the conditions for the next initiative, such a dynamic process of social learning through external bargaining encounters gives every indication of contributing to internal African unity. Even so, we are mindful of the definite limits to what unity generally and economic integration specifically can be expected to achieve in Africa. For example, we have pointed out in Chapter 5 that the capacity for trade creation and diversion generated by a common market is constrained by the regional economy's structure. Nation-states within the region tend to have similar resource endowments and as a consequence produce basically the same kinds of items. The structural variety that leads to output diversity among EEC countries is frequently missing from the African situation.
In hammering out a common external position vis-à-vis the EEC, French-speaking and English-speaking African states have gone far toward unlearning the divisive habits of the last decade. In West Africa the onset of the ACP grouping has rendered meaningless former distinctions between associated and non-associated states, thereby facilitating a new series of transactions which culminated, in 1975, in the formation of the West African Economic Community (ECOWAS). Moreover, the ACP grouping has displayed considerable vigilance in monitoring the implementation of the Lomé convention. In the spring of 1975, for example, the ACP countries protested EEC's failure to consult with them on beef import restrictions and on plans being set in motion to establish new sugar import controls.[86] Obviously this process of attitudinal transformation still has far to go, but if the ACP continues to achieve desired policy
[86] West Africa, June 2, 1975, p. 635.
outcomes for its separate partners, then the effect of this arrangement on subsequent policy harmonization and institutional coordination may prove to be positive indeed. Although the colonially inspired maximalist scheme (federalism) was counterproductive, it seems possible that the EEC, as an extracontinental actor, may provide a positive incentive, partially unintended, for integration along minimalist lines in Africa.
Chapter 7—
Global Assistance for Development:
Choosing an Appropriate Policy to Cope with Scarcity
The economic aid or technical and financial assistance that supplements local resources comes to African nations either unilaterally from a specific donor country or multilaterally through an international institution. In addition, some forms of aid are generated through the activities of regional and global groupings in which African and other developing countries participate. Examples of the three types of aid are unilateral assistance under the USAID program, multilateral technical and resource transfers through a set of United Nations agencies as well as affiliated or associated institutions, and regional aid under such arrangements as the ACP-EEC agreement over various forms of assistance.
At the outset it is useful to describe what we mean by "aid."[1] Furthermore, we feel it is necessary to make a conceptual difference between appropriate and inappropriate aid.
[1] The United Nations defines aid as "grants, and net long-term lending, for non-military purposes, by Governments and quasi-governmental international organizations." See William Clark, "What Is Aid?"Problems of Foreign Aid (Dar Es Salaam: Institute of Public Administration, 1965), p. 12.
The former is a transfer of resources and technology directly from a donor to a recipient, or the financial capacity to obtain them indirectly, which facilitates the attainment of development objectives. The latter is a transfer which contains encumbrances, set by a donor, that constrain a recipient from pursuing its development objectives.2. An example of inappropriate aid has been cited by E. O. Edwards, who pointed out that "some of the strings imposed on aid not only make projects more expensive but also create political and economic problems for the developing country."[3] His example is
a proposal, that cement be imported from abroad for a particular project when the domestic factory was operating at 50 percent of capacity and another setting as a prerequisite for aid that contractors from the aiding country be awarded construction contracts when domestic contractors were both unemployed and less expensive. Such proposals not only raise project cost but also tend to generate in the developing country antagonism toward aid that is just as naturally resented in the aiding countries.[4]
Aid, we feel, has three basic characteristics: first, it is assistance in implementing a program of social and economic development rather than relief from disaster; second, it is directed toward non-military purposes; and third, the transfer of funds is largely on an official basis between independent states either directly through bilateral agreements or through multinational organizations.[5] Aid neither includes direct foreign investment nor technical collaboration agreements. However, we are mindful
[2] The donor can impinge on the recipient in several ways, two of which are by insisting that resources and technology be used for specific purposes, and by requiring that the recipient change some of its ways and policies as a condition of received aid. See Albert O. Hirschman and Richard M. Bird, Foreign Aid—A Critique and a Proposal (Princeton University: Essays in International Finance, no. 69, June 1968), pp. 5–7; and, in the case of Ghana, see Ronald T. Libby, "External Co-optation of a Less Developed Country's Policy Making: The Case of Ghana, 1969–1972," World Politics 29, no. 1 (October 1976): 67–89.
[3] E. O. Edwards, "When is Foreign Aid Aid?" East African Journal 4, no. 4 (July 1967): 28.
[4] Ibid., p. 28.
[5] William Clark, "What Is Aid?" pp. 15–16.
of the fact that these transfers tend to enhance African opportunities to obtain needed resources. These can be obtained through bargains with multinational companies and other investors.
Aid, if appropriately given, could play an indispensable role in lifting the burden of underdevelopment from impoverished Africans considering the multiple planning objectives of increasing resource availability, allocating resources efficiently, and distributing output equitably. These are not separate goals and their interdependence is shown in Figure 15. The situation is one reflecting the trade-offs that relatively poor countries have to make between current consumption and investment for future consumption. In Figure 15, we have three production possibilities curves: P0 we assume reflects a nonaid position constrained by local resource availability. The level of consumption reflecting minimal subsistence, we assume, is C0 , and any level of resource use for consumption purposes less than this places striking proverty burdens on the great mass of people. At the same time, we presume that a minimal level of investment, financed by local savings (or nonconsumption), is required to provide a sustained increase in consumption possibilities in the future; for example, I1 . But in the case of local resource scarcity, C0 and I1 are not mutually attainable economic objectives. If the level of consumption is C0 , then only 10 investment can be reached at point A on the production possibilities P0 and community indifference curve
Figure 15
a broader sharing of an expanded output because supplemental resources are acquired and otherwise idle local ones are mobilized. In effect, a higher indifference situation I2 is reached at E.
This ideal model is in fact not without its real-world problems and costs. Let us now turn to three primary issues involving technical and financial assistance. The first relates to the adequacy of such efforts. Clearly the results of the First Development Decade under the United Nation's auspices were disappointing. The massive amounts of aid envisioned by the architects of this development strategy simply were not forthcoming from the rich and developed world.[6] Second, aid has been a question mark on the grounds that it tends in some cases to aggravate economic and political dependence on the parts of
[6] Tanzania's disappointment over levels of external economic assistance in the early years after independence contributed substantially to its 1967 policy decision on moving toward socialism and self-reliance. See Julius K. Nyerere, Freedom and Socialism (London: Oxford University Press, 1968), pp. 166–67, 237–39. Also see Henry Bienen, Tanzania: Party Transformation and Economic Development (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1970), p. 413. For a discussion of this and other matters, see Gunnar Myrdal, The Challenge of the Poor World: A Programme for a Worldwide Fight (Paris: OECD, 1972); and Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, Flow of Aid To Developing Countries (Paris, 1973).
African and other Third and Fourth World countries. It has been argued, in fact, that technical and economic assistance has developed a new kind of "imperialism."[7] It is alleged that a degree of structural dependence has so solidified within the global economy that "neo-colonialism has been promoted and there are therefore no grounds for taking a more optimistic view of the future."[8] The third issue has to do with the repayments of the debts incurred by recipient countries within the Third and Fourth worlds. A recent United Nations study called indebtedness and debt repayment one of the primary obstacles to financing development in many underdeveloped countries.[9] Foreign aid sources tend increasingly to lean toward repayable loans rather than outright grants, and this causes grave problems associated with repayments. One general exception, however, is China's foreign aid program, with its basic principle that aid must avoid bringing direct economic profit to the donor source. Clearly China seeks to attain political objectives through its aid program, but with an emphasis on eliminating directly observable economic gain. It not only offers loans free of carrying charges and interest and with extremely low (or no) servicing costs, but it also offers repayment terms more favorable than any other unilateral or multinational donor.[10]
With these points in mind, we shall turn to the matter of whether the volumes of aid transferred from the rich world to the poor have been substantial enough to promote an acceptable level of growth and development within recipient countries; that is, in conceptual terms, have African and other developing countries seen their production possibilities situations shift substantially (such as from P0 to P2 )?
[7] See, for example, H. Feldman, "Aid As Imperalism," International Affairs 43, no. 2 (1967): 219–35; Teresa Hayter, Aid As Imperialism (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1971); and Barbara Stallings, Economic Dependency in Africa and Latin America (Beverly Hills: Sage, 1972).
[8] Marion Muskat, "Peripheric Capitalism?" Intereconomics, no. C22117E (May 1975), p. 146.
[9] UNCTAD, Debt Problems in the Context of Development (New York: United Nations, 1974), pp. 1-34.
[10] Wolfgang Bartke, China's Economic Aid (Hamburg: Holmes and Meier, 1974), pp. 3–215. Also see Warren Weinstein, Chinese and Soviet Aid to Africa (New York: Praeger, 1975).
The Adequacy of Foreign Aid
Whether the aid granted to developing countries has been adequate is obviously a matter of judgment. The criteria on which to base a sound judgment are not easily forthcoming. The situation is complex and it is a matter of perspective. Our perspective is that a more involved picture requires appraisal within the context of an overall aid strategy in which the financial volume of aid is only a part. The Report of the Commission on International Development recommended a tenpoint program for action:[11]
1. To create a framework for free and equitable international trade;
2. to promote mutually beneficial flows of foreign private investment;
3. to establish a better partnership, a clearer purpose, and a greater coherence in development aid;
4. to increase the volume of aid;
5. to meet the problem of mounting debt;
6. to make aid administration more effective (focusing, we assume, on the matter of the appropriateness of aid);
7. to direct technical assistance so as to integrate it with capital transfers that have employment and other developmental objectives;
8. to slow the rate of population growth and counteract problems associated with maldistribution of population inherent in too rapid rates of urbanization;[12]
9. to revitalize aid to education and research; and
10. to strengthen the multinational aid system.[13]
[11] Lester B. Pearson et al., Partners in Development (New York: Praeger, 1969), chaps. 1–3. Also see UNIDO Secretariat, "Technical and Financial Needs of African Countries for Bilateral and Multinational Aid," Economic Bulletin for Africa 10, no. 2 (1974): 87–97.
[12] See, for example, Frederick C. Terzo, Urbanization in Developing Countries: The Response of International Assistance (New York: The Ford Foundation, 1971).
[13] A strong plea for multilateral aid systems in preference to bilateral aid bargains is made on the basis of the dangers that "foreign aid that is supposed to transfer income from the rich to the poor countries becomes all too clearly, when it is administered by national governments,an instrument through which the rich impose their will on the poor!" See Albert O. Hirschman and Richard M. Bird, Foreign Aid (n. 2 above), pp. 15–16.
In this chapter we are primarily concerned with points (4) through (6) while recognizing that the others are important in achieving comprehensive goals of economic growth and development. For example, the various points raised in the report deal with shifting a community's production possibilities curve from P0 to P1 and then to P2 . In addition, the report is suggestive of the potential for mutual advantages on the parts of donors and recipients. It has been argued:
From a strictly economic and fairly abstract point of view, the issue may be seen as a matter of the relative productivity of capital. If capital can be more productively employed in the recipient economy than in the country supplying the aid, the transfer results in an overall gain for both economies combined, and this gain is larger the greater the volume of the aid. The benefit to the recipient will consist of this gain plus the concession the donor may make by providing the funds at a lower rate of interest than the yield available to him in domestic uses of funds. This concession is the only burden to the donor; it is proportional both to the volume and to the margin of "softness" so that the burden will remain constant if the volume of lending is increased while interest rates are raised appropriately.[14]
In the concluding chapter, we deal more fully with the matter of bargaining over the terms of net benefits inherent in aid transactions. We note, moreover, the trade-off that potentially comes about when aid occurs: that is, from the point of view of a recipient state, structural dependency might become more acute when resources are conceded by a donor state or combination of states through a multinational organization. Certainly the chances for the forging of close dependency relationships diminish as aid becomes multinationalized, particularly when recipient countries exert more influence over the operation of such organizations as the International Monetary Fund, World Bank Group, World Health Organization, Food and Agriculture Organization, and the various United Nations agencies.
[14] Goran Ohlin, Foreign Aid Policies Reconsidered (Paris: OECD, 1966), p. 87. Also see I. M. D. Little, Aid to Africa (London: Pergamon Press, 1964); and Paul Streeten, Aid to Africa (New York: Praeger, 1972).
In order to act as an effective catalyst for shifting a production situation from P0 to P2 , volumes of aid must be adequate enough to fulfill development requirements. The Pearson Report dealt with the issue of adequacy of aid and recommended that 1 percent of the national products of developed countries be transferred as aid. Table 22 shows that the rich OECD countries have not reached that level—in fact, their aggregate proportion is .77 percent.
Aid and the Cost of Structural Dependency
The transfers of public foreign assistance required for development carry with them an element of cost relating to structural dependency. For many opinion formers in Third World countries, aid is viewed as an interference in their internal affairs which entails undesirable consequences in terms of structural dependency. "Imperialism hides its new tactics under different forms of so-called 'aid' co-operation and association," declares one writer.[15] Another depicts the United States as effecting "a programme to vassalise Africa under the guise of granting it aids of some sort."[16] The upshot is considerable recipient skepticism and donor fatigue.[17]
At heart, Africa's fears over aid are related to its general misgivings about relations with powerful external actors and its profound uneasiness over the long-term effect of aid relationships. We shall concentrate here on the latter phenomenon.
[15] Ongonga Achieng, "The Mask of 'Aid to Poor Countries,' " Nationalist (Dar es Salaam), July 14, 1970, p. 4.
[16] Segun Durosola, Dollar Pressure in Africa (Lagos: Nigerian Study Circle, n.d.), p. 7. For further analysis of donor-recipient reciprocity, see Donald Rothchild, "Engagement Versus Disengagement in Africa—The Choices for America," in Alan M. Jones, Jr. (ed.), U.S. Foreign Policy in a Changing World (New York: David McKay, 1973), pp. 232–40.
[17] Expressing weariness with aid, France's President Pompidou, when passing through Ougadougou in the fall of 1972, remarked that he was little inclined to "continue an aid policy which was no longer wanted." Quoted in the Manchester Guardian Weekly (London), December 8, 1973, p. 15. On the anti-aid doctrines of France's Raymond Cartier, see West Africa, July 13, 1968, p. 810.
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Certainly Africa's greatest concern over foreign aid programs lies in its apprehension over succumbing to a new form of dependency. For many an African nationalist, reliance on a Western capitalistic order (neocolonialism) is as much an affront to local dignity, self-expression, and independence as was the direct colonialism of yesterday. Whereas the latter involved open control, the former covers a hidden control. In African eyes, such hidden control is the more threatening of the two in its long-term implications. Neocolonialism, asserts Kwame Nkrumah, enables France and its Common Market allies to penetrate francophone Africa more effectively than in the past. "Thus, even though independent in name, these countries continue the classical relationship of a colonial economy to its metropolitan patron, i.e., providers of primary products and exclusive markets for the latter's goods. Only now the relationship is covered up under the guise of aid and protective solicitude, one of the more subtle forms of neocolonialism."[18] Under these circumstances, aid is viewed as drawing "the unwary back into a neocolonialist relationship" rather than contributing in any genuine way to African liberation and self-fulfillment.[19]
From the African perspective, then, aid contains a gravely threatening element unwisely dismissed in donor states. At the heart of this anxiety is a fear of increased dependence on the Western capitalistic order. By definition, the very act of entering into an aid agreement places some limitations upon recipient (and donor) freedom of maneuver. Of course, they can always abrogate these agreements afterwards; however, the forwardgoing nature of the relationships tends to circumscribe the autonomy of decision-makers in the respective states.[20] Yet the
[18] Kwame Nkrumah, Africa Must Unite (London: Heinemann, 1963), pp. 175–76.
[19] Ibid., p. 183.
[20] Henry Bienen, "Foreign Aid and National Independence: Examples from East Africa," in Hadley E. Smith (ed.), Problems of Foreign Aid (Dar es Salaam: Institute of Public Administration, 1965), p. 266. On the way in which aid limits donor independence, see C. T. Thorne, Jr., "External Political Pressures," in Vernon McKay (ed.), African Diplomacy (New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1966), p. 152. Also see Alvin Rubinstein, Soviet and Chinese Influence in the Third World (New York: Praeger, 1975).
critical anxiety uppermost in African thoughts is over dependence, not interdependence. African decision elites are apprehensive that bilateral aid from external governments will inevitably entail political "strings," necessitating compromises on their part which are antagonistic to African system goals on nonalignment, pan-Africanism, nonracialism, redistribution, socialist organization, self-reliance, and so forth. "In the majority of cases," writes Doudou Thiam, the former foreign minister of Senegal, "the states offering aid do not formally lay down any political conditions, but it often happens that they take an interest in a particular country either because they are sympathetic towards its internal political system or the attitude which it adopts towards the major international problems, or because of its strategic interest or economic potential. Often a great power has granted aid to a country and then cut it off because of the position adopted by the country concerned on some important political question."[21] In fact, as Thiam notes of American and Soviet aid practices, external aid projects have been terminated, leaving the recipient countries with partially completed plants and industrial complexes—and considerable bitterness.[22] What Africa fears most is some form of externally directed "remote control" which enables outside powers, under the guise of humanitarian gestures, to subvert the legitimate ends of African freedom and independence.[23]
Not only are African decision-makers apprehensive over possible dependency on the donors of public external aid, but they also have misgivings over the private company contacts encouraged by these external public agencies. The linkage
[21] Doudou Thiam, The Foreign Policy of African States (London: Phoenix House, 1965), pp. 99–100.
[22] British capital assistance to Tanzania of about Shs. 150,000,000 (but not the salaries of technical advisers and teachers) was suspended in 1965 following a falling out of relations on the Rhodesian issue. See Nationalist (Dar es Salaam), March 13, 1970, p. 1; and East African Standard (Nairobi), June 22, 1968, p. 1.
[23] A. Sékou Touré, "African Independence as an International Issue," in Yashpal Tandon, Readings in African International Relations, vol. 1 (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1972), p. 230. And for Sékou Touré's fears of external and subregional groupings, see Donald Rothchild, "America's Regionalism in Aid Policy," East Africa Journal 5, no. 4 (April 1968): 19.
between public and private interests here is very close in African eyes. Thus an editorial in a Kenya newspaper observed that the involvement of rich countries in economic assistance programs
seems to be motivated not by this kind of universal interest but by their own exclusive commercial and business interests which are sometimes even carried out without regard to the interest of some of their partners in development. . . . Foreign investment, for example, which often comes through multinational companies interested largely in profit maximization, power and the control of the local economy, can hardly be said to be of any eventual benefit to development.[24]
Therefore, economic assistance creates ties at the quasi-public level, allegedly limiting the political and economic options of domestic decision-makers. Because these African decision elites are intent upon attracting further external business interests, they order their internal priorities in such a way as to accommodate foreign investor demands. There is no question that investment by powerful multinational companies influences subsequent African public policies. These firms, with annual budgets considerably higher than those of some governments they negotiate with, are in a position to influence African choice processes. As a consequence, African elites have good reason to be wary of commitments to these private actors which may carry with then substantial unintended consequences.
Africa clearly faces a dilemma on the effects of aid. It needs the option of external assistance in order to relieve the citizenry's burden of generating savings for investment purposes all on their own—a fearsome task for those whose per capita incomes are often below $100 a year. Yet the potential costs of external reliance could be heavy indeed. Consequently, a yardstick for determining aid desirability seems essential. Perhaps reference to our distinction between appropriate and inappropriate concessions would be useful in this regard. As we conceive it, appropriate aid is a concession by a donor to a recipient (unencumbered by arbitrary restrictions) which fulfills the development objective set by decision-makers in the poorer country. Effective planning necessarily involves the avoidance
[24] Daily Nation (Nairobi), May 7, 1975, p. 6.
of inappropriate concessions as well as the aggravated dependence on external action that such relationships entail.
Debt Repayment:
The Cost of Aid
Repaying and servicing the debts inhering in transfers of aid is a serious fiscal problem in many Third World countries, particularly those whose required borrowings have resulted in aggravated dependence. External-debt-servicing costs impinge on the growth and development capacities of numerous African and other developing countries.[25] The Second and Third United Nations Conferences on Trade and Development (UNCTAD), held respectively in New Delhi in 1968 and Santiago in 1972, pointed out that external-debt-servicing is one of the most serious problems facing developing countries. UNCTAD's concern was echoed at the IMF-World Bank's meetings in Nairobi in 1974, and UNCTAD IV in that city. This group focused primarily on what might be done to deal with foreign debts once a country begins to experience their serious accumulation and servicing cost.
External debt begins to accumulate when a government is compelled to supplement local public revenue collections with borrowing from abroad in terms of loans and ancillary grants. A government is compelled to do this when its claims on the streams of financial wealth generated by extracting or cultivating physical wealth are not fiscally adequate. The degree of fiscal inadequacy is determined by the gap between what a government wants to do and what its public revenue collections alone would permit it to do.
Three African countries are selected for analysis: Liberia, Botswana, and Zambia. Liberia's selection is based on the fact that it has experienced, in the 1960s, and continues to experience serious external-debt-servicing problems. Botswana and Zambia were chosen because they appear to be entering into
[25] Cheryl Payer makes this and other points in The Debt Trap: The International Monetary Fund and the Third World (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1974).
early phases of external-debt accumulation. External-debt concerns will be with each country's government during the remainder of the 1970s. And the economy of each country has important common elements; each relies heavily on mining ores or public revenue or both; and each bears the impact of changing world-market prices.
In Chapter 4, we noted that the Liberian government's inability to collect sufficient public revenue was caused by supplementary external public borrowing. Both loans and grants became important sources of national finance. There was a shift in the composition of aid as loans became a progressively higher percentage of total aid. By 1965 such foreign transfers amounted to $30.4 million, or equivalent to 42 percent of the country's public revenue collections. This same high proportion persisted until 1968, when it decreased to 31 percent after the government had become concerned about the rising costs of debt-servicing because of heavy borrowing. In that year debt-servicing required 29 percent of the public revenue and 19 percent of the total revenue (public revenue plus foreign transfer). These figures rose to 33 percent and 24 percent respectively during the period 1968–1970, when debt-servicing payments began to exceed foreign transfers to Liberia by more than $1 million annually. Although figures have been decreasing during the 1970s, they remain seriously high. The capacity of Liberia and any other country to service her debts is usefully measured in three ways.[27] (1) The debt-service/exports ratio is the proportion of foreign exchange revenues earned from exports that is used to amortize and pay interest on external debts. The lower the ratio, the greater a country's capacity to service these debts, and this is particularly significant when the short term is considered. (2) The exports/gross domestic income ratio indicates the effect that exports have on economic activity in general. The higher the ratio, the greater the rise in exports relative to gross domestic income, and the greater the long-term capacity to finance external debt. This makes it easier
[26] Robert L. Curry, Jr., "Problems in Export-based Public Revenue Collections in Zambia and Liberia," Journal of World Trade Law 9, no. 6 (November–December 1975): 678–690.
[27] Pijush Kanti Mitra, "Debt-Servicing in Developing Countries," Journal of World Trade Law 6, no. 3 (May–June 1971): 388–91.
for a country to repay its external debts. Another long-term indicator is (3) the exports/imports ratio. The greater the ratio, the greater a country's long-term capacity. When exports rise faster than imports, this means that an increasing surplus (or decreasing deficit) is generated on current accounts. Such a country becomes more able to acquire foreign exchange with which to amortize and pay interest on its external debts.
Liberia's short-term capacity to service her foreign debts showed a moderately worsening trend. For the period 1964–1967, the ratio of debt-servicing payments to exports averaged 0.075 annually; during 1968–1970, it averaged 0.095 annually. But the country's longer-term capacity for debt-servicing was improving. Her ratio of exports to gross domestic income has risen moderately, averaging 0.46 annually during the period 1964–1967 and 0.49 annually for 1968 to 1970. The ratio of exports to imports has improved substantially, from an annual average of 1.23 during 1964–1967, to 1.60 for 1968 to 1970. During the 1970s, each of these ratios have improved until, in 1974, they can be estimated at 0.09, 0.50, and 1.50 respectively.
However, the burden of debt-servicing has been shifted to individual Liberians generally and not to the export industries. The shift of the burden was threefold during the late 1960s. First, various socially required public services have recently been curtailed; annual current expenditures increased by only $2 million, or 4 percent from 1967–1970 while gross domestic income rose by $79 million, or 24 percent. Second, gross capital formation expenditures have actually decreased; they totalled $21.2 million in 1967, but went down to $12.5 million by 1970. Third, a special "austerity" tax was placed on individual incomes; here the yield increased from $2 million to $6.6 million annually from 1967 to 1970. This rise by a factor of 3.3 is in contrast to Liberia's gross domestic income, which went up by only 25 percent during the same period. Carl Shoup and his colleagues found that this austerity tax was used primarily for debt-servicing, and that it was part of a generally regressive tax structure. They stated:
If the per capita, austerity, and individual income taxes are taken together, the progressive overall impact is very limited, with a strong
regressive element in the lower income ranges. The minimun overall effective rate of 4.75 percent occurs for an individual with an income of just under $600, jumps to 6.83 per cent for incomes of $600, falling again to 5.23 percent at $1,500, thereafter rising gradually, reaching 6.83 percent again only at earned incomes of $5,720.[28]
During the 1970s, Liberia's government has undertaken no special fiscal program to shift some of this load to export concession enterprises despite the fact that the long-run indicators of the country's debt-servicing capacity show that export sectors are relatively more able to absorb an increased burden.
Zambia's external-debt-servicing is low because of the economic boom enjoyed from independence in 1964 through the early 1970s. Zambia entered the 1970s with no serious external debt problem. In June of 1970, the country's official external debt was $176.4 million (Zambian Kwacha [ZK] was worth $1.56). About 75 percent of the total official lines of credit up to June 30, 1970, was contracted prior to independence in 1964. Just over 10 percent was payable in kwacha; in terms of foreign exchange, cumulative disbursements totalled $211.0 million, and annual repayments amounted to $34.6 million (including $8.8 million in interest payments). The major official lenders were the United Kingdom (40 percent), the World Bank (21 percent), Italy (16 percent) and Yugoslavia (12 percent).[29] The government's revenue sources are led by mineral and profits taxes levied on mining companies and in particular on those that extract, refine, and export copper. Generally increasing prices for and expanded exports of copper produced government surpluses, favorable balances-of-trade and payments, and a steady accumulation of foreign exchange during the period 1964–1970. For example, the ton price rose from ZK693, in 1964, to a record high of ZK1,750 in December 1973.[30] Copper tonnage increased from less than 500,000 in 1964 to a high of 747,500 in 1969, dropping to 681,100 in 1973. The govern-
[28] Carl S. Shoup, et al., The Tax System of Liberia (New York: Columbia University Press, 1969), p. 76.
[29] International Monetary Fund, Surveys of African Economics, vol. 4 (Washington, D.C., 1972), pp. 437–40.
[30] Republic of Zambia, Economic Report: 1973 (Lusaka: Ministry of Planning and Finance, January 1974), pp. 21–22.
ment's tax base, then, continued to expand.[31] But this expansion was slowing down, and in his 1975 budget message, the minister of finance indicated that some external borrowing would be required to supplement local revenue collections. At this juncture, Zambia is in a string position to pay debt-servicing costs. However these costs will likely accumulate because, among other factors, import inflation continues to require progressively more foreign exchange. Moreover the volatile nature of copper prices makes it impossible to predict whether Zambia will earn sufficient foreign revenues to cope with soaring import prices. A recent CIPEC conference in Lusaka generated some concern over whether the high copper prices of late 1973 and early 1974 would be maintained. It was generally concluded that copper prices would decline later in 1974—a change that was likely to persist during 1975. The Zambian government will have to pay increasingly higher prices for the goods that it imports—primarily material capital goods and other durables required in the production and distribution of public goods and services—for example, ambulances for medical care, bulldozers for rural road construction, and office machines for administrative services. Because of the uncertain nature of copper earnings, combined with the 1970 changes in tax and revenue policies, debt is likely to accumulate as the government supplements local revenue collections with unilateral and multilateral aid resistance from abroad. And this could make it even more difficult for Zambia to limit external debt accumulation without shifting even more serious financial burdens to its people.
Botswana's accumulation of external debt was not due to a decline in export earnings; it was due to increased demands for imports and public borrowing to finance them. The country entered the 1970s with insignificant external debt. It was only R14 million (1 Rand-$1.49) and almost 90 percent of this was accumulated prior to independence in 1968. The major lenders were the United Kingdom, international agencies, and South Africa. But external debt shows signs of accumulating largely because of the borrowing required by the government in order to finance mining development and rural infrastructures.
[31] Bank of Zambia, Report for 1973 (Lusaka, 1974), p. 20.
In the 1970s, Botswana faced a situation similar to that which Liberia experienced prior to the discovery of iron ore. There was no diversification, and Botswana relied on one source of foreign exchange earnings—cattle and meat products sold to one primary customer country, South Africa. However, this is changing because of recent ore and mineral discoveries that now offer the government of Botswana new and diversified opportunities to collect public revenues. But whether the government will gain adequate fiscal access to the stream of physical wealth generated from mining and exporting is another matter. There appears to be some important similarities to the Liberian experience—and some additional problems. One point on which their cases differ is that the time structure for repayment was short in Liberia—about eight years—and in Botswana it was spread over a much longer period.
The recent discoveries of various minerals and ores have been in Botswana's northeast region. The director of geographical survey reported the following summary statement in 1969:
The presence of deposits of asbestos, coal, copper, diamonds, gold and silver, kyanite, manganese and nickel has been noted. Other minerals recorded include ores of antimony, arsenic, bismuth and tungsten. Amongst others, chromite, fluorspar, graphite, gypsum, iron ore, lead, pyrites, sodium, carbonate and sodium bicarbonate-bearing brines, talc and zinc are known, in addition to limestone, fireclays and industrial ceramic materials, semi-precious stones and potential ornamental building stone.[32]
Such wide-ranging discoveries offer hope of significantly improving what has heretofore seemed a grim picture of this country's growth and developmental potential. Botswana's leaders have been quick to open its doors to direct foreign investment by private companies. For example, by 1973, Bamangwato Concessions Limited had invested R110 million, with the Botswana government raising another R60 million in grants, loans, and credits to finance the building of a new town
[32] P. Smit, Botswana: Resources and Development (Pretoria: African Institute, 1970), p. 12. Also see D. Lamberti, et al., "The Economy of Botswana," International Monetary Fund Staff Papers 17, no. 1 (March 1970): 153–73.
and supporting faciltities, in a promising copper and nickel mine at Selebi-Pikwe in the north;[33] mining officials anticipate that Selebi-Pikwe will produce some two million tons of copper-nickel ore as well as provide employment for two thousand people a year when it comes into production in 1973. In addition, a major discovery of diamonds at Orapa has been developed by De Beers; this mine, which operated at full capacity in 1971, produces over two million carats of diamonds as well as government revenues of R4 million per annum.[34] Although such mineral-based assets must not be allowed to obscure what remains a picture of overall underdevelopment, they nevertheless do provide an important multiplier effect. The gross national product of Botswana is predicted to increase as much as 15 percent annually in the 1970s, and investment in a variety of light industries and improved infrastructure can be expected.[35]
Botswana's export sector, therefore, will continue to lead the country's general economic growth, providing opportunities for development. Currently Botswana's export revenue derives primarily from the customs union involving South Africa and
[33] On the heavy input of government investment in these mining-related initiatives, see Dudley Jackson, "Income Differentials and Unbalanced Planning: The Case of Botswana," Journal of Modern African Studies 8, no. 4 (December 1970): 556.
[34] Christopher Joubert, "Still Awaiting the Real Impact from Copper," African Development, February 1973, p. 5; and Martin Curwen, "BDC Encourages Private Investors," African Development, February 1973, p. 9.
[35] Leonard M. Thompson, "South Africa's Relations with Lesotho, Botswana, and Swaziland," African Forum 2, no. 2 (Fall 1966): 73. See also Donald Rothchild, "A Hope Deferred: East African Federation, 1963–64," in Gwendolen M. Carter (ed.), Politics in Africa: 7 Cases (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1966), pp. 219–23; and his Politics of Integration: An East African Documentary (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1968), Part IV; Arthur Hazlewood, "Problems of Integration among African States," in Arthur Hazlewood (ed.), African Integration and Disintegration (London: Oxford University Press, 1967), chap. 1; Peter Robson, Economic Integration in Africa (London: George Allen and Unwin, 1968), p. 262. Also see Martin Legassick, "The Southern African Bloc: Integration for Defense or Expansion?" Africa Today 15, no. 5, (October–November, 1968): 10; and Ronald Hyam, The Failure of South African Expansion 1908–1948 (London: Macmillan, 1972), 106.
the BLS countries (Botswana, Lesotho, and Swaziland). The government collects public revenues from export earnings, and these are supplemented by various direct and indirect taxes levied in Botswana. A new customs union agreement came into effect in 1970, and its revenue-sharing formula is expressed as follows:
where A = c.i.f. value of a country's imports,
B = before tax value of production and consumer goods subject to excise (or sales) taxes,
C = excise and sales taxes paid on (B) above,
D = c.i.f. value of common customs area imports,
E = customs duties and sales taxes paid on D,
F = before tax value of goods produced and consumed in the area which, in turn, are subject to excise (or sales) taxes,
G = excise and sales taxes paid on (F) above, and
H = the value of the common revenue pool.[36]
The most notable new feature is the 1.42 multiplier, which in effect increases the proportional share distributed to the smaller countries by 42 percent. This has meant increased public revenue for Botswana. In 1969–70, under the old formula, the country's public revenue was R4.6 million. It rose to R5.1 million in 1970–71, and to R8.3 million in 1971–72.[37] But here is a key point: despite the increase, the negotiated figure of 1.42 has not resulted in public revenue from export earnings that is adequate to match the rise in public spending, particularly on imports from abroad. For 1977–78 the Development Plan projects spending at a level of 98.7 million Pula, the
[36] Customs Union Agreement Between the Governments of Botswana, Lesotho, and South Africa, December 11, 1969, Art. 14 (2).
[37] Republic of Botswana, National Development Plan 1970–75 (Gaborone: Government Printer, 1970), p. 121.
country's new currency, and 27.0 million of this is to be financed from foreign borrowing.[38] (1 Pula = 1 Rand.)
Imports climbed 37 percent from 1970 to 1971, mostly because of the rapid expansion in capital-good inflows destined for the mining sector. This is likely to persist in light of the continued expansion of the country's mining sector. "Future rates of increases," comments a recent International Monetary Fund survey, "will depend mostly on imports necessary for the construction of the copper-nickel complex at Shashe [and] projections indicated that imports would reach a value of about R80 million in 1972."[39] Later data proved this projection reasonably accurate, meaning a massive 75 percent increase in imports. By 1977–78, imports are predicted to climb to 119.6 million Pula. Such an increase has not been matched by increased export earnings. They are expected to exceed imports by 20.1 million pula in 1977–78, and the remainder of the balance of payments transaction outflows will exceed this amount.[40] Consequently, the country's government, a key importer, will have to borrow from external sources in addition to some local borrowing. The external aspect of borrowing could pose immense difficulties for the government in the future because external borrowing in loan form eventually means amortization or servicing costs. These could come at the expense of the use of public revenues to finance the development of an economic infrastructure and the provision of social services generally.
Reliance on external borrowing is likely to persist in Botswana. And with the current level of import inflation, the government could be required to borrow beyond the levels recently predicted for it. The countries from which imports of capital originate are experiencing inflation rates of from 12 to 15 percent annually. And this means higher import prices for Botswana. Together with the enormous increases in prices of
[38] Republic of Botswana, National Development Plan: 1973–78, Part I (Gaborone: Ministry of Finance and Planning, 1974), p. 57.
[39] Surveys of African Economies, vol. 5, p. 94.
[40] Republic of Botswana, National Development Plan; 1973–78, Part I, p. 24.
petroleum and petroleum products, this means more public expenditure requirements for the government as an importer. And unless export prices and quantities exported combine to generate potential public revenue, and unless the government actually gains adequate access to this stream of financial wealth, expanded borrowing seems inevitable.
Actually, there has been modest debt accumulation in Botswana since 1970. In that year, "the Government received transfer payments from abroad of R11.5 million and official capital imports amounted to R3.5 million."[41] By 1971, Botswana's external outstanding public debt amounted to R14.2 million. The funds spent on the servicing of debts could not be used to finance growth and development projects, a factor distressing to a poor land such as Botswana. "As a proportion of public revenue, outlays on this item have increased from 8 percent in 1964/1965 to almost 13 percent for 1969/1970."[42] The proportion has remained at about 10 percent in recent years owing in the main to extended repayment periods, a search for supplementary tax sources, and a slight increase in collections from the mines.[43]
Table 23 shows the government's outstanding external debt as of March 1971, and Table 24 shows the trend in external debt payments as a percentage of total revenue. The percentage is about one-fourth of what Liberia experienced in the 1960s, but it is instructive to note that the percentage for Botswana in the 1970s is about where Liberia was in the 1950s.
The government is obliged to undertake the development of infrastructure to accommodate the inflow of mining capital. If the projects produce the expected improvements in revenue collections, then supplementary borrowing will probably be minimal. But the word if is the key: it is less than certain that the financial outcome of these undertakings will be favorable to
[41] Surveys of African Economies, vol. 5, pp. 94–95. Domestic public debt amounted to another R5.2 million as of March 31, 1971. Most of this was owed to the De Beers Botswana Mining Company, two commercial banks operating in the country, and miscellaneous creditors (including the National Development Bank).
[42] Republic of Botswana, National Development Plan: 1973–78: Part I., pp. 49–57.
[43] Surveys of African Economies, vol. 5, pp. 41, 42.
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Botswana. Sufficient revenue collections, or fiscal adequacy, depend on the nature of concession agreements such as that involving ore with the De Beers Prospecting, Botswana, Limited. The government granted the company water and mineral rights and the company transferred R21 million worth of material capital (and technology). The company loaned the government another R2.2 million for road construction related to its mining activities. The government is to repay the loan out of the dividends derived from its 15 percent ownership in this venture. Revenue that the government collects is generated by a general tax system that is being overhauled. A recent International Monetary Fund report noted the following:
A growing need has been felt to revise the existing income tax laws to make them applicable to the mining enterprises and provide incentives for speedier economic development. Preliminary work on the restructuring of direct taxation has been completed by a team of experts from the Commonwealth Secretariat, and the International Monetary Fund has sent a legal expert to Botswana for six months under its technical assistance program to assist in revising the law.[44]
And the United States Agency for International Development
[44] Surveys of African Economies, vol. 5, pp. 97–98.
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has sent a team of experts into the country to develop a more effective tax-collection system.
The country's capacity to service its external debt is reasonably strong in the short run. The debt-service/exports ratio was 0.025 in 1969–70, and it deteriorated slightly to approximately 0.028 in 1972–73. The ratio is likely to increase given that the export-led growth that Botswana is experiencing—and may continue to experience during this decade is tied to external borrowing. One long-term indicator is also reasonably strong: the exports/gross domestic income ratio was 0.42 in 1969–70, and three years later it had improved to nearly 0.50. Again, this reflected export-oriented economic growth. But changes in the other long-term indicator signalled
trouble: the exports/import ratio declined from 0.45 in the earlier period to less than 0.40 in 1972–73. This is explained by the fact that the country's export expansion is led by imports of capital goods. Their prices, along with those of petroleum and other importables, are obviously increasing rapidly.
It is safe to conclude that at this point the country is in a good debt-servicing position—particularly in contrast to Liberia's situation. If the government can limit external debt accumulation (and control private foreign remittances), it should not be faced with shifting the external-debt-servicing burden to its people. However, debt-accumulation and servicing costs are problems that will continue to confront African regimes. The burden of international pricing, which shows commodity prices lagging behind those paid for petroleum and finished products, will be shifted to most Third World countries. This "debt-trap" will become an increasingly more serious obstacle to development unless African regimes can either improve their terms of external trade and finance, obtain some debt-forgiveness, or receive more favorable debt-servicing arrangements from private and public lenders.[45]
Summary:
Aid, Planning, and System Goals
Effective planning in African countries requires externally obtained supplements to local resource endowments. The external aid is economic and technical; it involves bilateral or multilateral transfers of resources and technology either directly or indirectly through transfers of financial assistance. The aid package combines both loans and grants, the former becoming an increasing portion of total aid transfers. Three key issues regarding aid relate to sufficiency, the implications for structural dependency, and the conditions of repayment.
There is a general impression that aid transfers have not
[45] On the seriousness of the debt-trap, see Payer, The Debt-Trap (n. 25 above). Also see Henry J. Bitterman, The Refunding of International Debt (Durham: Duke University Press, 1973); and J. P. Lewis and I. Kapur, The World Bank Group, Multinational Aid, and the 1970's (London: D. C. Heath, 1973).
been sufficient. The Pearson Report suggests a minimum assistance level of 1 percent of the GNPs of the developed countries, but data indicate that about .77 percent has been forthcoming from the OECD country group. As far as an individual African country is concerned, the minimum volume of aid that is required to sustain growth and development can be conceptualized, as in equation (1).
The aid deficiency or sufficiency is shown in equation (2)
The ordinary expectation is that for any African country,
[46] For a summary of aid donations by donor and recipient countries, see Roger D. Hansen, The U.S. and World Development: Agenda for Action (New York: Praeger, 1976), pp. 191–216.
The improving picture in Africa must be interpreted in the context of the fact that several countries (such as Nigeria, Gabon, and some others) are enjoying much better reserveadequacy performances than their continental neighbors. In addition, the continent as a whole has had to come a long way since 1950, when its aggregate picture was dismal to the point of despair. And there is one encouraging point having to do with the efforts of African and other Third World countries to guide the reform of the international monetary system.[47] The key to such a reform for the African countries lacking petroleum endowments is to shift world financial reserve shares in their direction.
Even if aid is sufficient and appropriate (given our definition of it) another question emerges. Is gaining aid worth the possible costs of structural dependency? Obviously each country's decision-makers must answer this question for themselves. But one key point that could serve to mitigate the seriousness of dependence on any one developed country or a small group of them has to do with reforming the entire aid-granting structure in a multilateral direction.[48] This includes not only the IMF and IBRD (or W'orld Bank Group), but it also involves WHO, FAO, UNIDO, UNCTAD, and other agencies.
A cost rather more apparent than reliance on a given structure of world economic power is the matter of payments for debt amortization and servicing. We have noted that there are some useful indicators of a nation's amortizing and servicing capacities. Our effort was directed toward an understanding of how three African countries drifted into serious debt-payment situations. Clearly, as more funds are used in amortization (a1 ) and servicing (il )—as in equation (1)—there is an impingement on the availability of aid. The opportunity to use aid to
[47] See the discussion about monetary reform in F. Modigliani and H. Askari, The Reform of the International Payments System (Princeton: International Finance Section, September 1971); Thomas de Vries, An Agenda for Monetary Reform (Princeton: International Finance Section, September 1972); and F. B. de la Giroday, Myths and Realities in the Developments of International Monetary Affairs (Princeton: International Finance Section, June 1974).
[48] The General Assembly session that convened in New York in the Fall of 1975 carried monetary reform as its major agenda item.
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sustain growth and development is lost. Longer amortization periods and lower interest or discount rates, as well as reduced administrative costs, could go a long way toward lifting the aid repayment burden from the shoulder of individual Africans whether they are from Liberia, Botswana, Zambia, or elsewhere. This point on easing debt-servicing is inseparable from the Third World's efforts to affect aid-granting conditions within the United Nations group or through bilateral channels.
In brief, if economic assistance is obtained in an appropriate manner, it can play a significant role in alleviating Africa's developmental burdens. Certainly, inappropriately channeled aid concessions are likely to create additional burdens in the form of aggravated dependency, distorted patterns of resource mobilization and income distribution, and excessive debt repayment burdens. The critical matter of choosing a policy is to supplement local resource scarcities in such a way that growth and development objectives will be pursued unencumbered by inappropriate constraints. In effect, more external resources alleviate scarcity and permit expanded choices or options in pursuing the systemic goals outlined in Chapter 3.
An added dimension in the acquisition of resources is a form of quasi aid; that is, integration of commodity sales by the ACP countries through the Lomé agreement.[49] Still another is collective efforts by Third World countries to obtain access for whatever manufactures they might wish to export to the industrialized world.[50] The first operates within a center-periphery, manufactured products-primary products trade scheme. It seeks, primarily, to redress distributive inequities within this system. The second is a more fundamental, longer-range focus on modifying the basic trade scheme. It seeks added opportunities to manufacture and export finished products from developing areas. In each case, effective cooperation and bargaining
[49] See Isebill V. Gruhn, "The Lomé Convention: Inching Toward Interdependence," International Organization 30, no. 2 (Spring 1976): 241–262; and Alfred S. Friedeberg, "The Lomé Agreement: Co-operation Rather than Confrontation," Journal of World Trade Law 9, no. 6 (November–December 1975): 691–700.
[50] Robert L. Curry, Jr., "Africa and the Generalized System of Preference," Journal of Modern African Studies 10, no. 2 (July 1972): 285–289.
among Third World countries is required and not simply an illusion of such.[51] To protect against co-optation on a global scale in the name of cooperation, it is imperative to choose appropriate policies and strategies rather than avoid legitimate confrontation.
There is another point about external assistance that should be noted. The generally valid criticism persists that aid-granting tends to ignore rural sectors. But this tendency is being evaluated by some donors. For example, the object of Britain's aid-granting is now to discriminate in favor of the poorest communities in the poorest countries.[52] At a Labour Party conference held recently, Frank Judd, under-secretary for overseas development, said, "Our whole aid programme is being increasingly directed to the poorer countries and communities. Priority is given to requests for help to provide these people with counselling and supplies for preventative health care."[53] Some United States aid is moving in this direction. For example, USAID and Ghana's Ministry of Agriculture are considering an agreement under which assistance will be provided in the form of loans and machinery to improve small-scale farming. Technical advice, as well as seeds and fertilizers, will also be provided.[54]
The need, then, is for African decision-makers to negotiate both for global transfers of resources and allocations of them to rural sectors on terms considered by African spokesmen to be appropriate for African peoples.
[51] Some of the dangers of illusion are discussed by Karen A. Mingst, "Co-operation or Illusion: An Examination of the Intergovernmental Council of Copper Exporting Countries," International Organization 30, no. 2 (Spring 1976): 263–288.
[52] "Britain's Aid Policy," West Africa, July 5, 1976, p. 958.
[53] Ibid., p. 958.
[54] Daily Graphic (Accra), September 23, 1976, p. 12.
PART IV—
CONCLUSION:
EVALUATING THE PROSPECTS
Chapter 8—
Reducing Scarcity and Expanding Choice
It is possible to look at the study of public policy from a number of distinct vantage points.[1] Each is valid in itself and may involve considerable overlaps in actual application. First, an institutional approach probes the varying effects of different decision rules, showing the way in which each produces diverse results. For example, it is possible to demonstrate that different voting principles involve what may prove to be divergent private and social costs and benefits for collective action. Second, either a cost-benefit or cost-effectiveness approach places considerable emphasis on relating expenditures to political system outputs either for individuals, for groups, or for the society as a whole. The manner in which government revenues are collected and allocated either to individuals, groups, and geographic areas or to the entire community is based on a set of cost-benefit, cost-effectiveness government priorities. And third, a systems approach focuses broadly on the interaction between political system and environment. In doing so, it subsumes an examination of inputs,
[1] On this, see the discussion in Elinor Ostrom, "Public Policy Analysis: An Institutional Approach," DEA News, no. 5 (Spring 1975), p. S–2.
decisions, implementation, and consequences. Our analysis in this work concentrates on both institutions and cost-benefit considerations and pays somewhat less attention to the input side of the systems equation than is frequently the case.
In pursuing such a line of analysis, we have adopted something akin to a problem-solving focus, looking upon the state as an action agency that can be harnessed for the achievement of publicly determined tasks. These collective goals are multiple in nature and include the following most prominently among their number: ensuring survival, establishing a national identity, integrating societies, creating an acceptable authority system, mobilizing and distributing resources efficiently, and securing freedom from external control. Although we are mindful of the need to relate the social and political dimensions to the economic forces under study, a goal-securing and problemsolving focus, as adopted here, nonetheless places emphasis on the ways in which public agencies can mobilize resources and distribute outputs efficiently and equitably where scarcity exists and also increase the availability of resources. In brief, we give primary attention to coping with those aspects of scarcity which pose obstacles to expanding choices in regard to the six basic goals confronting middle Africa.
What makes a concern for enlarging African options, or expanding choices, imperative at this juncture is the existence of an environment of want and insufficiency. Scarcity (i.e., output limited by an inadequate input base) is both a cause and a product of underdevelopment; it results in inadequate opportunity and unfulfillment for large numbers of people on the African continent. When it is commonplace for food, clothing, shelter, medical facilities and personnel, water, electric power, transportation, and communications to be extremely limited, we have a human tragedy of untold dimensions. Such scarcity—which has its origins in colonial neglect, traditional practices, lack of human and physical resources, organizational ineffectiveness, hesitancy to innovate, and the hostility of the international environment—puts heavy constraints on the ability of public institutions to absorb legitimate demands emanating from the environment. As these demands gain force and come to exert a formidable pressure on groups and institutions but-
tressing these fragile political systems, there is an imbalance in capabilities which threatens regime, and even possibly state, survival. Elliott P. Skinner reaches a pessimistic conclusion as to the effect of this capabilities imbalance when he asserts: "The basically neocolonial economies of the African states were unable to meet the social and economic needs of their people. The result was civilian conflict and military coups."[2]
Of course, evidences of a capabilities imbalance are by no means restricted to African experience.[3] What is especially noteworthy about the African situation is the extent and variety of problems confronting current leaders and their peoples. Despite the great responsibilities assumed for overcoming a heritage of scarcity, these decision-makers find themselves handicapped by insufficient skills, technology, resources, information, supporting institutions, norms and values, and international markets to cope effectively with the challenges at hand. In this sense, we regard current trends toward executive leadership, single-party or no-party dominance, or administrative centralization with understanding and considerable sympathy. Once the observer looks from within and comprehends the effect of scarcity on the decision process in the LDCs, that person is unlikely to accept at face value facile analogies to Western experience.
Certainly scarcity affects the policy process differently in developed and in developing countries. For one thing, the effects of inefficiency in production and distribution are more
[2] Elliott P. Skinner, "African States and Israel: Uneasy Relations in a World of Crisis," Journal of African Studies 2, no. 1 (Spring 1975): 13.
[3] See the discussion in Ted Robert Gurr, "A Comparative Study of Civil Strife," in Hugh Davis Graham and Ted Robert Gurr (eds.), Violence in America: Historical and Comparative Perspectives (New York: New American Library, Signet Books, 1969), pp. 569–76. In addition, a highly controversial private report prepared by Samuel P. Huntington, Michel Crozier, and Toji Watanuki for the Trilateral Commission stated that "demands on democratic government have grown, while the capacity of democratic government seems to have shrunk." Its conclusion that "Overall, the United States and Western Europe need to restore a more equitable relationship between governmental authority and popular control" was denounced by the commission as much too pessimistic. See New York Times, June 1, 1975, p. 17.
drastic in poor countries; a misuse of scarce resources in the LDCs has a more adverse effect on a great number of citizens who lack alternative opportunities available to people in wealthier societies. For another, these states vary noticeably in their ability to cope with scarcity-related problems. In the African lands, planning organizations suffer from an insufficiency of skills, resources, and information. They have a hard time securing adequate supports for policy, implementing decisions, and appraising the consequences that follow these action programs. In addition, it is never wise to lose sight of the exogenous variables in these instances. The strains emanating from the international environment contrast with the experience of industrialized Western states and, when combined with evidences of long-term scarcity, lead to a sense of urgency with respect to overhauling economic and political structures and processes. As a result, it is the polities with the lowest capabilities which often evince the strongest preference for comprehensive planning. Amitai Etzioni comments on this paradoxical phenomenon as follows: "Developing nations, with much lower control capacities than modern nations, tend more to favor planning when they may well have to make do with a relatively high degree of incrementalism, while modern pluralist societies—which are much more able to scan and, at least in some dimensions to control—plan less."[4] Certainly France and some smaller Western European countries have shown a strong predilection for sophisticated mathematical planning; nevertheless, it seems broadly true that it is the states least able to engage in synoptic planning which exhibit the strongest preference for such an approach.
This volume, therefore, starts from the premise that a fundamental problem remains to be solved in most of the
[4] Amitai Etzioni, The Active Society (New York: Free Press, 1968), p. 294. It is interesting here that planning in the Ivory Coast, with its emphasis on ultramodern growth and high standards, has had negative effects for indigenous African economic activity. "In asserting the need for planned development . . . ," comments Michael A. Cohen, "the planners have exaggerated the necessity for public control of financial resources and public conception of specific projects." Urban Policy and Political Conflict in Africa: A Study of the Ivory Coast (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1974), pp. 214–15.
middle African states, namely, that of effectively and humanely coping with scarcity. In addressing itself to this issue, three basic areas are examined: decision-making processes that shape policy choice, the economic environment in which policy choices are effected, and the implementation of public policies.
The Decision Processes
We have directed our attention to two major aspects of decision-making—the processes regarding resource allocation and output distribution, and the strategies of political choice that both support economic institutions and are themselves permitted by economic performance. African institutions clearly are not comparable to their counterparts in developed countries in their capacity to process demands and implement policies. They are nonetheless vital to the decision-makers who strive toward setting out and achieving collective goals. Consequently, in both colonial and postcolonial times, heavy investments have been made in the institutions required to effect desired public purposes—for example, economic organizations, the civil service, executive bodies, the military and the police.
An extremely important point in regard to decision processes is the effort by decision elites in these societies to reduce the costs of decision-making. Something of a dialectical process is discernible here. In stage one, the colonial authorities radiated a network of institutions to the periphery. Various types of command models were imposed in which bureaucratic hierarchies secured control over the societies under their sway. These bureaucratically run territories encountered low levels of mass participation and accepted only the most limited forms of public accountability; this enabled them to concentrate decision-making authority in few hands. And since the colonial command processes kept the number of participants in decision-making activities at a minimum, the tight-knit ruling elites, as aloof as they were foreign, needed to make only marginal investments in political structures to achieve their rather limited objectives.
This situation changed dramatically as the African lands neared independence (stage two). Not only did decolonization
involve a change in decision procedures (the circle of active decision-makers widened and government became increasingly accountable to the public), but it also entailed the assumption of important responsibilities long handled by the metropole (i.e., foreign affairs, defense, and public finance).[5] The bureaucracy was quickly Africanized and, for a short time at least, compelled to compete with other organs of government in the policy-making process. Moreover, a primary responsibility for development was added to government's traditional function of maintaining law and order. Therefore, in the transitional period prior to and immediately after independence the colonial command model gave way—in appearance at least—to a polyarchical one, which increased participation in the decision process and thereby raised decision-making costs. From the colonial years to the present, this second stage was short-lived indeed;[6] yet while it existed, it allowed more open and intense conflict to emerge between the subregions and the center as well as between the organs of state at the center itself. However, because such institutionalized conflict was regarded as a luxury that Africa could ill afford, leaders, intent upon enhancing their capacity for public action, moved swiftly to reduce what they regarded as needlessly heavy burdens upon effective decision-making.
After a rather short-term exposure to the dissonance of polyarchy, the African states completed the dialectical process by going into stage three. The decision process combined the limited participation of the colonial era with both the Africanization objectives and the developmental purposes of the nationalist response to alien rule. Stage three was marked in particular by the transformation of political institutions so as to reduce decision costs to a minimum. Single-party and no-party
[5] James O'Connell, "The Inevitability of Instability," Journal of Modern African Studies 5, no. 2 (September 1967): p. 183.
[6] Our use of a time horizon stretching back to stage one, rather than to the more unique stage two, raises questions in our minds as to the utility of the popular notion of "de-participation" in the current African experience. See Nelson Kasfir, "Departicipation and Political Development in Black African Politics," a paper presented at the Ninth World Congress of the International Political Science Association, Montreal, August 19–25, 1973.
(often military) regimes came to power, holding in common a distrust of open, conflictual politics. Hence, in their various ways these regimes tended to cope with conflict by denying it public exposure.[7] Such a movement toward the avoidance of publicly aired conflict was not inconsistent with considerable rivalry and contention within the ranks of the decision elite itself, but this conflict was encapsulated so as to keep the costs of decision-making within bearable limits.
Thus stage three represented an important alteration of institutional rules so as to effect a decisive lowering of decision costs. New political structures were promulgated which simultaneously reduced conflict and concentrated authority. These acculturated mutants largely reflected locally held elite values on the concentration of authority, the circumscription of the conflict arena, and the reduction of the costs of decision-making. As a result, a number of Western institutions which were perceived as impeding central action and credibility were modified to conform with the preferences of the new ruling elite. Measures were put into effect limiting the autonomous authority of the legislative bodies, opposition parties, trade unions, and subregional administrative units; in addition, the institutional roles of judicial agencies, second chambers, and constitutional protections were revised so as to remove curbs on central government initiative.[8]
But if a process of impedance was in evidence with respect to such colonially radiated institutions, a process of facilitation was also apparent. Quite noticeably, those institutions enhancing regime authority and capacity for effective action were reinforced and expanded. Such organs of state as the executive, civil service, police, and military as well as those of public and private corporations were often given official encouragement and support. With regard to these generally supportive institutions, what innovations did occur usually
[7] Leonard W. Doob and William J. Foltz, "The Belfast Workshop: An Application of Group Techniques to a Destructive Conflict," Journal of Conflict Resolution 17, no. 3 (September 1973): 512.
[8] See the excellent discussion on this in Y. P. Ghai and J. P. W. B. McAuslan, Public Law and Political Change in Kenya (Nairobi: Oxford University Press, 1970), chaps. 6–8.
involved an expansion of tasks and control mechanisms as well as the Africanization of recruitment policies, but not a disturbance of basic functions, procedures, or values as such.
In other areas, however, greater attention was paid to altering the rules under which the inherited institutions operated. Thus national electoral procedures, political party organizations, federal-state relationships, and economic programs and alignments were transformed in order to bring them in line with locally preferred values on participation, authority, and decisional efficiency. In certain instances, the single-party system was consciously linked to "democratic" principles by the inclusion of procedures for the election of constituency representatives from within the party, rather than between parties. Such an intraparty selection process allowed for public participation while minimizing the tensions attendant on open conflict. Similarly, Uganda's A. Milton Obote laid the groundwork for experiments with his country's inherited election process: by requiring that candidates for parliament gain significant voter support from outside their basic constituency, Obote sought to promote societal integration and to reduce interethnic tensions. Moreover, new economic instruments (parastatal bodies, cooperative village schemes, and the regulation of economic activities by "national agencies"[9] ) have been utilized during stage three to restructure colonially derived economies and to foster economic growth and development objectives.
In these and other innovative efforts, something of a pattern became manifest: that the new African elites were striving to redesign structures carried over from an earlier, alien-dominated period in order to bring them in line with new needs and priorities. To the extent that inherited institutions thwarted the African regimes' initiatives in mobilizing and distributing resources, arriving at decisions, or implementing programs, they were regarded as expendable or ripe for revision. In
[9] In Somalia, national agencies have been established by the Barré government to control building materials, petroleum products, and food. As a consequence, Phillipe Decraene writes, the "big European companies which still play an important role in West and Central Africa have practically disappeared from the Somali Republic." "Somalia Goes It Alone," Manchester Guardian Weekly, April 12, 1975, p. 13.
making what they considered necessary revisions, the ruling elite tended to come down most heavily upon manifestations of institutionalized conflict, seeing in such formalized arrangements a challenge to their continuing control and to their capacity to make decisions at minimal cost. Hence the new elites altered the nature of their institutional investments, playing down the ritualized conflicts inherent in Western constitutionalism and encouraging the growth of systems supportive of their own emergent political culture.
This redesigning of decision-making structures not only had the effect of concentrating authority, limiting the conflict arena, and reducing decision costs, but it also had direct implications for regime decision strategies. The newly revised procedures on decision-making facilitated the agreement on and the implementation of desired strategies. Thus whether regimes chose to pursue accommodationalist, reformist, or transformationalist strategies, the existence of an adequate and effective institutional base usually proved indispensable to the achievement of policy goals. Without supportive structures and reasonably efficient rules for conduct in the public arena, government lacked the capacity to ensure meaningful choice.
These strategies of accommodation, reorganization, and transformation represent fundamental political choices on the means which regimes may use to cope with scarcity in what they view as the most effective manner. Whereas the decision rules are procedural guides to the decision-making process, the strategies for choice represent broad approach patterns for coping with the main collective tasks at issue. To be sure, the range of choice in real-world situations is bounded by a restraining environment of scarcity; such factors as lack of indigenously trained cadres, capital, enterprise, information, access to markets, and freedom from external control severely restrict the maneuverability of decision elites. Even so, we see a dimension for political action remaining which allows political elites some scope for the determination of economic policies, including the setting of the basis on which they will relate to the international environment.
In evaluating the strategies themselves, we regard as desirable those patterns of choice which expand alternatives. To accomplish this end, policies must enlarge productivity while
allocating resources efficiently and distributing output effectively. A rational government will select such policies on the basis of cost-benefit considerations. Where a conflict occurs among multiple objectives, then it becomes necessary to make trade-off choices. Frequently, only the slightest of distinctions between these trade-off choices mark the difference between one strategy and another. The policies of different regimes on matters of taxation, capital investment, subregional allocations, the pace of Africanization programs, the scope of multinational ownership, and so forth often may prove quite significant, even if their ideological positions should appear to indicate otherwise. The environmental situations of most African states are basically quite similar; therefore, it is only to be expected that the policy outputs of these countries will differ to a limited extent only. Nevertheless, it is because the preferences of the various decision elites are important in terms of their impacts that it is useful for us to delineate both policy-making patterns and the consequences following from these lines of action.
For coping with scarcity, then, we see three general policy patterns in evidence: the accommodational, the reorganizational, and the transformational. The emphasis here is on the decision elite's doctrinal preferences and perceptions of the national, regional, and international environments in which they operate. In these terms, a different cluster of priorities appear, depending on which of these three strategies has been embraced. Thus when we set up a classification scheme that related the six system goals to strategies of choice, several groups of characteristics emerged (see Table 1, p. 114).
If all the strategies of choice tended to share categories on ensuring national survival, creating a national identity, and establishing a hierarchical authority system, they diverged on a number of organizational aspects and public policy stances. The states that opt for an accommodation strategy, and who thereby accept their structural dependence on the international capitalistic order, tend to align themselves politically and economically with the West. To secure such major objectives as political order and rapid economic growth rates, they strive to assure their attractiveness to external investment, skills, and enterprise. This combination of main priorities entails a number
of consequences. The emphasis on order leads to extensive internal discipline and a limited political accommodation with ethnic and interest group self-determination; as President Houphouet-Boigny of the Ivory Coast states: "I prefer injustice to disorder."[10] The stress on productionist objectives inclines these regimes toward policies designed to facilitate foreign enterprise: policies, for example, with respect to an open economy, the maintenance of a large, unskilled labor force, a preference for private initiative, low public-sector expenditures on social welfare, a slow pace in implementing Africanization programs, and a de-emphasis of pan-Africanism and ideological concerns generally. In brief, the accommodationalist states mould their internal policies to conform to the demands and expectations of the dominant international capitalistic order. In doing so, they repress domestic calls for distributive equity (as between classes and subregional units), hoping thereby to elicit substantial long-term economic benefits—even though the public at large benefits only marginally in the short term. By increasing internal class and subregional inequities, such an approach may well prove costly in terms of systemic legitimacy, even while showing itself to be productive of relatively high economic growth rates in certain instances. This strategy can be considered, therefore, to be an ever precarious trade-off choice. Because of its inability to solve the crisis of distribution, it fosters general environmental instability. Not only are the deprived classes frustrated and dissatisfied but a significant base exists upon which a grim (zero-sum) process of intra-elite competition may materialize.[11]
The states selecting a reorganizationalist strategy stand somewhere between the polar extremes of accommodation and
[10] See Cohen, Urban Policy and Political Conflict, p. 205.
[11] Although we consider the existence of socially deprived elements an important environmental factor, we are emphasizing the role of competing elites rather than social deprivation as such in the process of social change. As one author notes, some of the most socially and economically disadvantaged groups, such as urban squatters, can be "among the strongest supporters of the present [Kenya] government despite the fact that it has done little or nothing to improve their lives." Marc Howard Ross, The Political Integration of Urban Squatters (Evanston: North-western University Press, 1973), p. 16.
transformation. As such, they are more optimistic about their ability to achieve multiple objectives. They seek simultaneously to augment productivity, allocate resources on an efficient basis, and distribute output in an effective manner. Their decision elites express confidence in their ability to harness the energy, resources, and skills of international capitalism to their own national growth and development.[12] At the same time, more outspokenly nationalistic and ideologically oriented than the accommodationalists, they remain committed, in principle at least, to raising social welfare conditions for the masses of their people.
Thus the reorganization strategy predisposes decision elites toward two courses. The first tendency encourages the preservation or adoption of organizational styles and public policies that promote rapid economic growth objectives. In their effort to further productionist ends, the reorganizers are steadfast in maintaining their inherited linkages to the Western capitalistic system. Such ties ensure access to markets as well as to Western investment capital, skills, and enterprise. And, as is the case for the accommodationalist regimes, this identification with Western interests involves something of a "spillover effect." As noted above on the process of institutional transfer, the new African regimes carried over certain "statist" features of the colonial system; these features were applied to conceptions of bureaucratic-military roles as well as to administrative behavior—in particular, the emphasis on maintaining law and order, extraction, and "efficient" rule.[13] Consequently, those states seeking to build upon what they regarded as a fortuitous base tend to display a strong preference for structural continuity. This orientation facilitates the growth of existing institutions, enhancing the authority and capacity of the new central authorities. In addition, it gives African decision-makers an incentive to pursue economic policies that preserve and
[12] See the discussion in Donald Rothchild, Racial Bargaining in Independent Kenya: A Study of Minorities and Decolonization (London: Oxford University Press for the Institute of Race Relations, 1973), p. 436.
[13] Goran Hyden, "Basic Civil Service Characteristics," in G. Hyden, R. Jackson, and J. Okumu (eds.), Development Administration: The Kenyan Experience (Nairobi: Oxford University Press, 1970), chap. 1.
strengthen current relationships. Structural ties to the Western capitalistic order, then, subsume a series of decisions aimed at maintaining a relatively open economy for domestic and international capitalist action. In accordance with this predisposition toward continuing linkages with international capitalist interests goes a series of interlocking policy commitments: the emphasis on private initiative generally, and supportive policies, within limits, on such matters as licensing, plant location, urban concentration, remission of profits, management contracts, nationalization of industry, selection of key personnel, and utilization of capital-intensive technology. In pursuing such an approach, these decision elites strive to create an appropriate climate in order to attract extensive interest on the part of the international investment community. They are reluctantly accepting dependent status on a temporary basis, hoping thereby to reap the harvest in the form of meaningful selfreliance in the future. To be sure, this outward-looking strategy has not been uniformly successful in terms of achieving economic growth objectives. In Ghana, "as against a population estimated to be growing at 2.7 percent per annum, the Gross Domestic Product (GDP) grew at an average rate of only 2.5 percent per annum" over the decade of the 1960s.[14] Nevertheless, in general, the reorganizers can be said to have made important achievements in expanding productivity. To the extent that they can also successfully humanize capitalism (by coping effectively with the challenges of distribution and social dislocation), they will have taken an important stride toward the objective of efficient allocation of resources. But in light of the structural constraints of the national and international environments, it is vitally important not to underestimate the dimensions of this challenge.
This brings us to the second tendency in the reorganizational approach: the preference for liberal symbols. Such a predisposition encourages decision-makers to take on the most tolerant stance of our three groupings for choice toward the fact (if not the legitimacy) of ethnic, subregional, and economic interest group demands, and to be more receptive than the
[14] Republic of Ghana, Guidelines for the Five-Year Development Plan, 1975–1980 (Accra: Ghana Publishing Corp., 1975), p. 2.
accommodationalists to ideological and welfare claims generally.[15] So long as equity considerations do not place overly serious restrictions upon productionist objectives, the reorganizers are prepared to espouse multiple courses of action. Hence, in the domestic sphere, their decision elites are prone to call for policies of rapid Africanization; effective regulation of multinational enterprises; a designated economic role for cooperatives, trade unions, and parastatal bodies; redistributive programs to overcome the most glaring of rural-urban and interclass inequities; and, in some cases, partial or total nationalizations of key industries. In the international sphere, liberal symbols came into play with respect to such issues as racial discrimination, sanctions against South Africa, pan-Africanism, and nonalignment. If their ideological input is tempered by an awareness of overriding economic linkages to the Western capitalistic order,[16] their spokesmen nonetheless frequently voice strong support for progressive positions. Even so, many observers claim to detect an underlying spirit of caution and pragmatism in these representations. On both domestic and international fronts, therefore, the reorgainzers must contend with a legitimacy challenge of significant proportions. Critics regularly question the moral validity of their primary link to international capitalism. And their domestic achievements in enlarging productivity are played down, being depicted as an instance of "perverse growth" beneficial to the dominant bourgeoisie of Africa and the West rather than to the African economies as a whole.[17] A dramatic indictment of class cleavages resulting
[15] See Murray Edelman, The Symbolic Uses of Politics (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1964), and his Politics as Symbolic Action (Chicago: Markham, 1971).
[16] In Tom Mboya's words, "Since independence African countries have come to realize that certain practical realities of life make it impossible to order our external affairs in purely ideological terms." The Challenge of Nationhood (London: André Deutsch, 1970), p. 4.
[17] The nature of the relationship between the bourgeoisie of Africa and the West remains a subject of extensive disagreement. For example, whereas Issa G. Shivji places the socio-economic base of the petit-bourgeois class "in the International bourgeoisie," John S. Saul, while not questioning the intimate ties between the two, does warn strongly against the temptation of underestimating the "deep roots" of petit-bourgeois class interests within Tanzania itself. See Shivji, "Tanzania—The SilentClass Struggle," and Saul, "Who is the Immediate Enemy?" in Lionel Cliffe and John S. Saul (eds.), Socialism in Tanzania, vol. 2 (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1973), pp. 319, 355.
from a selective growth process was that advanced by Kenya's former populist parliamentarian, Josiah Mwangi Kariuki, who warned that "a small but powerful group of greedy, self-seeking elite in the form of politicians, civil servants and businessmen has steadily but very surely monopolized the fruits of independence to the exclusion of the majority of the people. We do not want a Kenya of ten millionaires and ten million beggars."[18] Such undesirable possibilities make a heavy stress on productionist aims (especially those involving close connections with international capitalisrr) very costly: in terms of policy effectiveness. Under these circumstances, the decision elites in the reorganizing states cannot afford to remain aloof from the legitimate demands for equity and social justice. To the extent that the reorganizers stand aside and permit income and opportunity gaps to widen between classes and subregional groups, they are themselves responsible for extending public disillusionment, and possibly systemic instability.[19] Although it is unlikely that the populace will itself take on the role of agent for political change, we view widespread social deprivation as a nurturant of intra-elite competition over which group will rightfully govern.
In this respect, the crisis of legitimacy encountered by the reorganizers is akin to that of the accommodationalists. Paradoxically, however, it is the reorganizers' greater success at combining liberal principles with productionist achievements which creates the additional burden upon the political system. Promise outpaces performance, and what accomplishments do materialize frequently have the effect of raising expectations to unsupportable levels. Where the resulting public demands outpace systemic supports, these fragile reorganizational states may come to experience intense intra-elite conflicts over the
[18] This quotation appears in the report of the Select Committee of the Kenya legislature appointed to examine the circumstances leading to Kariuki's death. See Weekly Review (Nairobi), June 9, 1975, p. 8.
[19] On the positive relationship between modernization and instability, see Samuel P. Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968), p. 44.
distribution of power and resources.[20] Whether the much criticized ties to the Western capitalistic order- the main lynchpin of the reorganizers' strategy of choice—can survice such a "zero-sum" struggle depends largely on which group of political actors proves triumphant.
Finally, the states choosing a transformationalist strategy are essentially pessimistic as to the possibility of building upon and making meaningful reforms in their inherited relationship to international capitalism. They seek to move toward the achievement of the six systemic goals through a comprehensive reordering of internal structures and external linkages to the Western capitalistic order, not through improvisation. The old life-styles and relationships, regarded as humiliating and exploitative, are rejected as totally unacceptable to the new human and social order being established. Capitalism, structural dependency, elitism, inequality, excessive individualism, pluralism, racism, acquisitiveness—all of these are explicitly condemned as undignified and anticommunitarian vestiges of old social systems. Along these lines, for example, the newly inaugurated president of an independent Mozambique, Samora Machel, proclaimed the advent of a revolution upon assuming power in July 1975. By revolution, Machel meant the deliberate transformation of his country in order to create "a new man" as well as a new society. He therefore urged policies aimed at transforming public consciousness which would eliminate individualism, increase party discipline, concentrate authority at the center, and inculcate the party line into the thinking of the people.[21]
The transformationalist strategy, then, reacts negatively to continued structural dependence on the Western capitalist order; in Julius K. Nyerere's words, "A capitalist economy means a foreign dominated economy."[22] And in seeking to sever ties with this externally dominated order, the transforma-
[20] For a discussion of intra-elite competition in Zambia, see Jan Pettman, "Zambia's Second Republic—the Establishment of a One-Party State," Journal of Modern African Studies 12, no. 2 (June 1974): 242–44.
[21] New York Times, July 2, 1975, p. 5.
[22] Julius K. Nyerere, Freedom and Socialism (London: Oxford University Press, 1968), p. 264.
tionalists are attempting to discard many formerly held social and cultural values they consider inextricably intertwined with such a system. In their place, the transformationalists advance a strategy designed to create socially positive, egalitarian, and self-reliant societies. These decision elites look upon "the costs of moderation" as unacceptable; [23] consequently, they are moving boldly and comprehensively to engineer new, more humane social orders. As one author summarizes this approach in terms of Latin American experience: "The goal of such a development policy would be the creation of 'livable' societies, viable alternatives to hyper-urbanized, semi-industrialized, permanently underdeveloped, permanently inequitable countries."[24]
Inevitably, such a pulling back from past interconnections has broad organizational and policy ramifications. In the domestic political sphere, the creation of relatively closed polities is facilitated by an emphasis on unitary control, hierarchical authority, doctrinal purity, party discipline, and a general delegitimization of ethnic, subregional, and interest group pluralism. To be sure, measures to concentrate power are thwarted by such factors as institutional fragility, intra-elite competition, and lack of fiscal and skilled manpower resources; nevertheless, some progress in this direction is apparent. The upshot—when taken in conjunction with a series of interrelated economic programs on land redistribution, village cooperatives, urban redevelopment, indigenization programs, nationalization initiatives, expansion of parastatal bodies and state trading organizations, and a radical overhaul of management contracts, debt practices, taxation structures, and profit remission statutes—is a considerable amount of state control as well as systemic stability and constancy of purpose. Such ability to influence events at the state level has the effect of freeing the transformationalist regimes from certain external political and economic trade-offs. In particular, their strategy of socialist self-reliance reduces the need to court the goodwill of external
[23] Barrington Moore, Jr., Social Origins of Dictatorship and Democracy (Boston: Beacon Press, 1967), p. 505.
[24] Robert L. Ayres, "Development Policy and the Possibility of a 'Livable' Future for Latin America," American Political Science Review '69, no. 2 (June 1975): 515–16.
aid agencies, multinational corporate managers, and foreign investors generally. Thus Sékou Touré remarked on the policy of "human investment" adopted by the Democratic Party of Guinea at the Fourth Congress of June 1958: "In political terms, the results of human investment have proved that the Guinean population was sufficiently enlightened and determined to make the sacrifices, which would prevent their country from having to rely on the enslaving subsidies and the other forms of aid with which colonialism gilds the chains of dependence.[25] In fact, the estimated value of projects carried out through human investment was put at three billion Guinean francs during the first development plan. Although not made a central feature of the second plan (because of public resentment over coercive methods as well as administrative and technical complications), it has been retained as an aspect of Touré's public policy.[26]
By reducing ties to Western capitalist interests, the transformationalists can follow their radical instincts and strike militant stances on such salient issues as colonialism, neocolonialism, racism, pan-Africanism and nonalignment. Their disengagement from the Western capitalist order by no means entails an aloof neutralism on these questions; rather it facilitates a positive form of alignment with Third World forces intent upon restructuring what is perceived as a hostile international environment.
Although a strategy of socialist self-reliance reduces the need for certain economic trade-offs with international capitalist interests, it by no means eliminates the difficult task of establishing priorities as to conflicting objectives. In principle, the transformationalists seek simultaneously to enlarge productivity, allocate resources efficiently, and distribute output effectively. To quote Sékou Touré: "It is imperative to economize resources—not in a petty bourgeois spirit, but out of concern for efficiency." His example of efficient utilization of
[25] Ahmed Sékou Touré, The Doctrine and Methods of the Democratic Party of Guinea, Part II (Conakry: Democratic Party of Guinea, n.d.), p. 118.
[26] Ludipo Adamolekun, Sékou Touré's Guinea: An Experiment in Nation-Building (London: Methuen, 1976), p. 70.
productive forces (i.e., labor-intensive methods) is pertinent. Touré writes that, "if a community of villagers cultivates ten acres of land, it would be nonsensical to equip them with a tractor, when the work can be done more economically with a plough, making better use of the labour force."[27] In other words, a socialist policy attempts to promote growth and equity objectives at one and the same time.
However, what if resource limitations require that these goals be ranked? Here, in the final analysis, lies a key difference between the transformation world-view and those of the accommodationalists and the reorganizers. Ultimately, the transformationalists' commitment to socialist self-reliance leads to a preference for equity and social welfare over productionist tasks. Nyerere decries "growth without development," stating that "if this kind of capitalist development takes place widely over the country, we may get a good statistical increase in the national wealth of Tanzania, but the masses of the people will not necessarily be better off."[28] A strategy based on the twin principles of socialism and self-reliance will avoid such a situation by building "slowly but surely" upon local resources.[29] In analyzing the meaning and implications of self-reliance, Nyerere places great emphasis on realistic expectations:
Whereas it is possible to find the sort of investment capital which can bring great increases in agricultural output from our present resources, it is not possible for us to envisage establishing heavy industries, or even very much in the way of light industries, in the near future.
To be realistic, therefore, we must stop dreaming of developing Tanzania through the establishment of large, modern industries.[30]
Thus the Tanzanian strategy of choice attempts to mobilize the people irt the villages in order to cope with the problem of scarcity. In doing so, it tries to avoid future class
[27] Ahmed Sékou Touré, p. 89.
[28] Nyerere, Freedom and Socialism, p. 344.
[29] A. Sékou Touré, The Doctrine and Methods . . . , p. 272.
[30] Ibid., p. 319. For a similar point by assassinated leader Amalcar Cabral of Guinea-Bissau, see the quotation in Basil Davidson, The Liberation of Guinea (Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1971), p. 237.
inequity by concentrating on the rural majority rather than the relatively more privileged urban minority. This involves a subordination of economic growth, if necessary, to the larger purposes of creating a more humane society. The upshot in terms of critical priorities is to subordinate "economic interest," defined in terms of total growth rates, to "political interest," defined in terms of equitable distribution and broadened and deepened regime legitimacy.
What is the effect of this trade-off choice on the part of the transformation regimes? If, as indicated above, the accommodation and reorganization strategies of choice engendered a crisis of regime legitimacy, the transformation strategy, by playing down economic growth goals, encounters what may be called a performance crisis. Not only may elite elements be disappointed over the regime's inability to sever ties with the international capitalistic order and to achieve genuine economic independence, but the critically important modernist elite (civil servants, military officers, party cadres, business managers, and high-level technicians) may come to feel "relatively deprived," in the sense of not securing what they deem to be their fair share of the society's resources. In the long term, then, a radical policy-making style may be faced with possible intra-elite competition over the distribution of the outputs of the political and economic system. The regime's efforts at broadening its base of legitimacy do not take place in a vacuum; rather, in zero-sum fashion, the sharp shift toward an egalitarian principle of distribution may occur at a cost in terms of some dissatisfaction on the part of elements within the elite itself. This situation explains the vehemence of a regime's responses to any internal challenges to its hegemony. The administration lacks the resources to achieve its aim of social justice, and it lacks the capacity to reconcile all dissatisfied elite elements with the dominant political and economic system. Consequently, for all their efforts at reducing internal and external claims upon the state, these overburdened and fragile regimes find it extremely difficult to escape once and for all from the spectre of political instability.
Each strategy of choice, or each policy, has its own mix of benefits and costs. Probably no approach is equally valid
cross-nationally, and the responsibility for determining goals and priorities is left up to the decision elites of the various African countries. Let us, for example, consider the critical trade-off that policy-makers must weigh in determining the appropriate mix of system goals five and six of Table 1 (p. 114). We can analyze the process of choice by using the community decision-making model developed in the appendix to Chapter 1. Figure 16 assists in our exposition. The x-axis measures goal five (mobilizing and distributing resources efficiently), and the y-axis deals with goal six (securing freedom from external control). The community's indifference map reflects transitive preferences moving from the zero intercept to progressively more preferred positions on indifference curves I0 ,, I1 , and 12 . Consider that an African state initially is situated at point B or indifference curve I0 . This reflects a desirable security from external control, Y0 (the transformationalist strategy), and would offer at the same time, resource mobilization, and so forth at X0 . But there are constraints on eventually moving beyond the initial equilibrium at point B, such as point A, because unsupplemented local resources scarcity underlies production possibilities. The community's most preferred attainable position combines X0 and Y0 at point B on curve P0 Attaining point A is impossible without external assistance. This assistance, whether through direct foreign investment or multilateral aid, involves the threat of extensive external control. Here the transformation-oriented decision-maker faces a very critical choice: Shall security be reduced below a desirable minimum (from a more preferred Y0 to a less advantageous Y1 ) in order to increase resource availability (from a less advantageous X0 to a more preferred X1 )? Dependency can come about because of the terms of gaining external assistance, thus endangering security. The transformationalist would be willing to give up some resource availability for security, but ideally the decision-makers would like to avoid having to make this trade-off. If the community could move to the most preferred situation—point C on I2 —neither security nor resource availability would have to be sacrificed. But this means, first, that either local resource scarcity or inefficiency situations would have to be improved. It would mean that local economic
growth would have to be promoted, production would ideally be labor intensive, Africanization would be pursued rapidly. Second, it would mean that links to Western capitalism would not be expanded and security would not be impaired. In effect, the production-possibilities frontier would shift to P2 , enabling the community to reach I2 at point C without bargaining away security in exchange for donor resources. Aid in this case would be appropriate.
It is likely that economic reality would place serious constraints on an African nation's ability to move to P2 . But a production-oriented approach offers at least a limited prospect for moving transitively to indifference curve I1 as the production frontier shifts to P1 , as in Figure 16. Consider the probable shape of indifference curve I1 under a transformationalist orientation. It is tangent to P1 at point D, reflecting the fact that relatively less security will be sacrificed in moving from initial situation B (from Y0 to Y2 ). In order to accomplish this, some access to foreign resources will be given up because of unacceptable terms; that is, resources gained increase from X0 to X2 and not X1 .
By contrast, the accommodation and reorganization strategies are prepared to make different kinds of sacrifices. Decision-makers adopting these strategies, under similar local circumstances, are willing to give up more freedom from external control in order to obtain resources that supplement local endowments. Consequently, they are less reluctant to form more substantial links to Western capitalism. The accommodationalists (
[31] It is not always the case that the external actor actually does allocate the amount of resources that the recipient envisions under this strategy. Here we note the marked differences between Western investment in Gabon and the Ivory Coast as compared with Chad and Niger (the Third as against the Fourth World).
Figure 16
Figure 17
graphic terms, suggests a move to some midpoint where a relatively minimal security level is acceptable—such as Y1 —as resources are extracted from international capitalism in a quantity sufficient to reach X1 . But a transformationalist (
The Implementation of Public Policies
Public-policy relevance requires dual attention to the environment in which choice occurs as well as to the means for achieving external policy objectives.[32] Having discussed some aspects of the decision process that shapes choice, we now turn in a summary manner to the second aspect of policy relevance—that is, the implementation of policies.
We have noted that the environment of scarcity confronting most states in middle Africa places severe limits on their ability to achieve rational-choice objectives. At the same time, however, we have warned against adopting a self-defeating pessimism, one which holds out little or no prospect of escape from perpetual underdevelopment. Such pessimism undermines a determined search for creative policy options from the outset, precluding serious and meaningful change on the basis of partial information. We have set forth the range of bargaining options and the dimensions of planning and external assistance that could be utilized by African governments intent upon expanding their economic alternatives. In particular, we discussed the process of African governmental bargaining encounters with external private and public actors through intergovernmental cartels, through bilateral negotiations with multinational companies, and through regional, continental, and extracontinental exchanges.
Any analysis of African bargaining options must begin from the vantage point of the current structure of international exchange. Throughout we have emphasized that the present-day exchange relationships between African governments and nonAfrican public and private actors are decidedly unequal in nature. The inability of the African governments to achieve more beneficial bargaining outcomes stems largely from their relatively disadvantaged position in terms of such variables as reciprocal demand intensity, impatience, skill, flexibility, information, power, experience, and changing external factors. The result of this unequal exchange is an interactional process that
[32] Stephen J. Andriole, Jonathan Wilkenfeld, and Gerald W. Hopple, "A Framework for the Comparative Analysis of Foreign Policy Behavior," International Studies Quarterly 19, no. 2 (June 1975): 168.
does little to undercut the inherited pattern of structural dependency in any substantial manner.
Even so, we do not regard an asymmetry in power relations as automatically precluding the possibility of improving African transactions with external actors.[33] So long as no bargaining rival has a power monopoly, divergent interests can enter into reciprocal exchanges in order to secure convergent goals. As Paul Diesing remarks, "When each side is powerful enough to inflict considerable damage on the other, unilateral dictation is no longer possible and bargaining becomes necessary."[34] In brief, common need facilitates what two observers describe as "relational control,"[35] enabling the weaker bargaining party to extract some benefits from engaging in a process of economic exchange with its more powerful rival. We analyze this situation in the following graphs. Figures 18 and 19 are derived from our rational-choice model developed in the appendix to Chapter 1 and the elements of the bargaining model that we outlined in the appendix to Chapter 4. Our task here is to give meaning to the elements conceptualized in our choice and bargaining models by applying them to the process of extracting some benefits from asymmetrical bargaining. An excellent example is the matter of foreign aid as it relates to the system goals of limiting reliance on external dependence and of obtaining resources for allocation and distribution. In Figure 18, consider that two countries are involved in bargaining: state B is an African (or other Third World) state and A is an industrialized developed state. Assume that the two are bargaining over the conditions on which rewards will be exchanged.
[33] On suppliers' credits as an example of "asymmetric power relations," see D. L. Cohen and M. A. Tribe, "Suppliers' Credits in Ghana and Uganda—An Aspect of the Imperialist System," Journal of Modern African Studies 10, no. 4 (December 1972): 530.
[34] Paul Diesing, "Bargaining Strategy and Union-Management Relationships," in J. David Singer (ed.), Human Behavior and International Politics (Chicago: Rand McNally, 1965), p. 406.
[35] T. Baumgartner and T. R. Burns, "The Structuring of International Economic Relations," International Studies Quarterly 19, no. 2 (June 1975): 128. On spontaneous field control in bilateral and multilateral relationships, see Robert A. Dahl and Charles E. Lindblom, Politics, Economics and Welfare (New York: Harper and Row, 1953), p. 104.
Figure 18
Figure 19
State B holds a reward package Y, given up in order to receive foreign assistance, for example, access to raw materials, selfesteem generated by the aid-granting nation, and goodwill. This is measured on the vertical axis. Country A holds the aidpackage reward X—economic and technical assistance—measured on the horizontal axis. Offer curves
accept at various levels of exchange activity. The resulting terms of exchange are T1 ; at the intersect of the curves at point J, state A gives up X1 in order to obtain Y1 . It is an exchange that suits country B as well because it gives up YI , a like amount, to get X1 .
Figure 19 is a box diagram showing the indifference maps of states A and B superimposed on each other. At point L, there was no exchange, the African country holding Y1 of its reward package, and the developed nation holding X1. of an aid package. At the exchange agreement T1 , the African government gives up (Y1. –Y1 ) in order to get the aid (X1 –X1 ) that the unilateral (or multilateral group, for that matter) is willing to give up. Each trading or exchanging partner moves to a higher indifference curve or a more preferred position. In this case, both sides gain approximately equally. But, of course, we are dealing with actual structured inequalities in exchanges that usually favor the powerful donor country. But we feel that African governments are in positions to accept exchange terms that reflect relatively greater benefits for given costs (or given benefits for relatively less costs) than would be forthcoming in isolation, that is, outside the global aid-granting structure. In presenting our argument to this effect, we stress the role of policy externalization, the reduced costs of organizing internal group decisions in the process of coordinating the various African decision systems, and the effects of impatience and reciprocal demand intensity on the benefit-to-cost ratio established in bargaining with external actors.
The collaborative efforts by the less industrialized states to improve their situations in negotiations with the dynamic hegemonial center (i.e., policy externalization) facilitates the development of a decision network uniting these separate African actors. The necessity for continuing exchange relationships (albeit unequal ones) with powerful external parties can act as a catalyst for cartel arrangements as well as regional, continental, and extracontinental harmonization schemes. Providing that the decision elites give evidence of sufficient entrepreneurial skills in coordinating the partners for negotiations with foreign private and public interests, they are at a vantage point at which they can achieve improved bargaining
outcomes. Moreover, the consequences of this expansion of economic alternatives are not exhausted with this improvement in bargaining outcomes. As political actors learn of the benefits following from collaborative action, a sense of overlapping and interdependent interests comes to prevail. Thus policy externalization promotes a consciousness of common fate which, in turn, encourages the African powers to sacrifice some of their individual autonomy for wider joint ends.
Even though policy externalization can be said to facilitate action by African cartels, governments, and regions in making common policy decisions, the cost of coordinating sovereign actors for decisional purposes remains necessarily high. In this regard, the critical differences between the Intergovernmental Council of Copper Exporting States (CIPEC) and the cocoa exporting states on the one hand and the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) on the other are instructive. Whereas the oil producers cartel is strengthened in its bargaining encounters by the low-price and high-income elasticity of petroleum as well as the presence of rich and powerful internal participants (such as Saudi Arabia and Kuwait) which can cushion the arrangement by reducing production at times of slack world demand, the members of CIPEC and the cocoa exporters have no comparable hegemonial actor to play such a role. As a result, the CIPEC and cocoa partners must both engage in an extensive process of internal bargaining over production quotas before entering into exchange relationships with their international rivals.[36] Because the cocoa and CIPEC states are all under intense pressure to secure foreign exchange for developmental purposes, such internal bargaining among equals seems likely to place strict limits on any accords involving constraints on impatience.[37]
The points we are raising make Figures 16 and 17 more than mere blackboard exercises. Shifting offer curves, improving exchange terms, and reaching higher indifference curves or attaining more preferred positions conceptualize a complicated
[36] Kofi Ata-Bedu, "The Cocoa Battle," Daily Graphic (Accra), October 25, 1975, pp. 8–9.
[37] I. K. Nkrumah, "Intrigues in the International Cocoa Agreement," Daily Graphic, November 22, 1975, p. 9.
process. This process involves African decision-makers employing their skills, capacities, and ingenuities to operate more effectively within an international structure and manipulate to their advantage the parameter variables that determine what that structure is.
Internal group dynamics have an impact on the costs of harmonizing state actors for common objectives. With respect to both regional coordination (the East African Community) and continental coordination (the Organization of African Unity), direct bargaining among sovereign member states resulted in the establishment of minimalist structures which encountered severe performance difficulties soon af ter their founding. The negotiations on the 1967 Treaty for East African Cooperation led to subsequent interactional strains, causing struggles to take place among the constituent units over appointments, appropriations, communication and transportation linkages, and the functions of the East African Authority. Similarly, the compromises made by African leaders at the Addis Ababa summit conference in 1963 were to become the source of later organizational problems; because the OAU lacked an adequate machinery for effective control over conflict as well as for economic and military coordination, it proved to be incapable of meeting some of the primary goals originally set for it by the heads of state and government at their founding sessions.
By contrast, however, an even more minimally structured arrangement (the ACP grouping) proved relatively effective in securing organizational aims. Here the costs of harmonizing state actors were reduced by the functionally specific nature of their program, namely, securing improved terms of trade and increased developmental assistance. Despite strikingly different perceptions of interest on the part of the associated and nonassociated African partner states during the early stages of ACP genesis and negotiations with the EEC, a surprising degree of unity ultimately emerged as the negotiations reached the later stages. A social learning process had become evident. Not only did the ACP grouping build successfully (albeit unequally) over time upon the various exchange agreements of the past, but they also achieved in these external encounters a unity of
purpose that fostered a harmonization of objectives and procedural tactics. In part, ACP successes reflected the entrepreneurial skills of Nigerian leadership at the meetings. In part, it also showed the effects of increased inter-African communications arising from common experiences at the bargaining table. The upshot was an augmented awareness of shared ACP interests and destinies, leading in turn to a greater willingness to subordinate separate advantage for that of the group as a whole.
If policy externalization acts to reduce the costs of organizing internal decisions, what of the related problem of securing decisional coordination to achieve ongoing objectives? How are multiple governments, all under intense domestic pressure to bring about immediate developmental benefits and eager to safeguard the automony of their decisional processes, to work out collaborative arrangements? This is an age-old challenge and most suitably the topic of another treatise. Yet as part of our search for decision processes being between the comprehensive and incremental extremes, we are led inevitably to touch on the need for new reconciliation patterns. In limiting the costs of organizing decisions over time, we see little alternative to working out new accommodative practices among the cooperating units. Some insight into the lines that such a polycentric relationship might take may be gained from a consideration of the notion of J. K. Friend, J. M. Power, and C. J. L. Yewlett of "contextuating" control. They write:
Etzioni, in The Active Society (1968), has drawn a distinction between systems of prescriptive and "contextuating" control, the latter allowing freedom of action [for our purposes, by the African state members of a regional organization] within certain agreed limits. In theory, the latter form of control releases the central body from the requirement of detailed knowledge of the activities and circumstances of each of the local agencies it seeks to influence and is thus more economical in terms of the level of communication between them. However, the more stringent such contextual controls become, the more they may in practice be challenged by the local agency, which will seek to establish that special local circumstances make the rules inapplicable in its own case. Referring to Lindblom's typology of modes of co-ordination, the central body seeks to exercise "unconditional manipulation" over the choices of the peripheral bodies, which must respond through "adaptive adjustment." However. . . , severe distortions can arise from any attempt to apply controls that do not match the complexity of local problem
situations. The pressures acting upon the local agency [as used here, the individual African states] are then such as to change the relationship into a more symmetrical one, typically involving some form of bilateral negotiation. Of course, if all such requests from local agencies [again the African state members for our purposes] are acceded to, this can quickly create a situation of information overload for the superordinate agency. The trick of effective "contextual control" is therefore to design generalized forms of "conditional manipulation" which limit the pressures on subordinate agencies to establish symmetrical relations with the superordinate, while not stifling their capacity to exercise initiatives in desired areas.[38]
Although the parallel between a central and superordinate body and a cartel or regional arrangement is not, of course, exact, it seems possible that the notion of contextuating control sketched out here might be of use to African decision elites as they seek to reduce the costs of organizing decisions among sovereign actors.
If integrative harmonization strengthens the general effectiveness of African bargaining agents in their encounters with external public and private actors, it remains to be seen what specific options exist for improving the terms of economic exchanges. Here we focus on the effect that two variables, impatience and reciprocal demand intensity, have upon the benefit-to-cost ratio established in a bargaining relationship. As noted above, the transactions between multinational corporations and African host countries most often proved to be on a highly inequitable basis. Such an asymmetry in bargaining strength tended to reflect the extent of skills, information, flexibility, experience, and international support at the disposal of these powerful international firms. Even so, in keeping with our emphasis on the relational nature of power, we do not envisage any necessary equivalence between the resources at the command of a bargaining agent and the outputs and outcomes of a bargaining encounter. Hence we see a somewhat unexplored dimension open to African regimes for securing more preferential outcomes established in a bargaining situation.
In probing this dimension, we concentrate on the way each
[38] J. K. Friend, J. M. Power, and C. J. L. Yewlett, Public Planning: The Inter-Corporate Dimension (London: Tavistock Publications, 1974), pp. 350–51. This reference was brought to our attention by Geoffrey Wandesforde-Smith in a letter of August 8, 1975.
bargaining agent's impatience and demand intensity affects the benefit-to-cost ratio that is mutually acceptable to the negotiating parties. As an African government places restraints on its impatience to acquire productive factors from external actors or to assume foreign debt obligation for a broad variety of developmental objectives, it may be in a position to insist on terms more preferable to its interests. By curbing its impatience to strike an immediate agreement, it gains flexibility in its negotiations with the multinational firms. Thus through economic diversification, the placing of contract arrangements on competitive tenders, delays in reaching agreement, and reductions in production, African negotiators may possibly be able to move the bargaining reference (i.e., the realizable bargaining outcome) to a more preferential point.
Clearly, the existence of alternative investment sources, external markets, and supplies of goods, technology, and skills are critical in determining the ability of African governments to influence the outcomes of bargaining. In this sense, the variable of reciprocal demand intensity complements that of impatience, for it sets the parameters on which regimes may exercise control over their impatience to come to agreement with a particular multinational. Thus, as African regimes manage to broaden their alternatives (by diversification of products, suppliers, and investment sources) or to limit those available to the multinational companies (by means of cooperation in regional, continental, or global policies), they are in a position to improve the economic terms of bargains. In this regard, no initiative seems more central to the goal of expanding economic alternatives than that of regional harmonization. The creation of such a decisional network reduces the options of MNCs, denying them the opportunity to play one regime off against another in search of more preferential terms of exchange. In brief, while in no way minimizing the constraints under which African regimes labor when negotiating with powerful external actors (such as the MNCs), we nonetheless see the effective manipulation of such variables as impatience and reciprocal demand intensity as offering a means of improving the outcomes of bargaining. We feel that in certain situations the
tactics described above might result in more preferential agreements from the standpoint of the African host country, as the companies might come to accept increased costs in order to gain the benefits of continued or expanded operations.
Finally, we turn to another policy option open to planners seeking to reconcile growth and distribution while avoiding the impediments of political obstinacy on the parts of business, military, professional, and bureaucratic elites.[39] This option has to do with supplementing scarce local resources and technical know-how with those obtained from external private and multilateral economic and technical assistance. But the obtaining of supplementary resources and technology poses yet another trade-off; this one involves the possible cost of global dependency and the benefits derived from acquiring resources and technology. In bringing in outside assistance the planner seeks to achieve multiple productionist and distributional objectives. However, at times the costs of aid obtained within asymmetrical exchange relationships are so great as to be considered unbearable. Such a situation involves inappropriate concessions, as the aid given to African recipients creates and reinforces structural dependency.
In conclusion, we attempt in this work to sketch a middle route to African development. We seek to be neither so optimistic as to be naive nor so pessimistic as to lose hope in the possibility of improving existing conditions. We try to outline a positive approach to reducing and coping with scarcity and thereby increasing choice. We feel it imperative that developing countries search for and find new and improved economic options within the existing international structure and work toward reforming an essentially inequitable relationship to dominant external actors. The emphasis is on creative transformational efforts in which the reality of world interdependence is utilized to advance African interests.
In calling for a mixed scanning approach to the current
[39] G. K. Helleiner, "Beyond Growth Rates and Plan Volumes—Planning for Africa in the 1970s," Journal of Modern African Studies 10, no. 3 (October 1972): 345–46.
international system, seeking to determine what alternatives avail, we in no way wish to underestimate the dimensions of the challenge at hand. The pressures upon African regimes internally are intense, and articulate interest groups make heavy demands and hold high expectations—all at a time when fragile state structures are confronted with global inflation; worsening terms of international trade; failures in their distribution mechanisms; strict limitations on utilizable human, material, and fiscal resources; population explosion; extensive urban migration; and so forth. Clearly, new alternatives are essential at this juncture. Social and economic processes at the domestic level must be transformed to achieve the various multiple goals set forth in Chapter 3. In particular, we have stressed a policy-relevant focus on the means by which public authorities can provide increased productivity, allocate resources efficiently, and distribute output effectively because of the centrality of economic processes to development administration during this period. But this concern for internal economic mobilization and distribution cannot be separated from the exogenous variable. Consequently, at the external level a complementary process of transformation must be facilitated which will work simultaneously to enhance Africa's benefits from its exchanges with hegemonial actors outside the region. With this object in mind, we underline the important role played by policy harmonization in enhancing the bargaining power of Third World countries. As Robert S. Jordan and John P. Renninger put the matter: "Poverty cannot be eliminated quickly, but co-operative organization and a sense of common purpose can be utilized to increase the power and bargaining strength of African, and indeed all developing countries."[40]
In summary, we regard this as a time for imagination, initiative, and creativity, not for an unproductive and unrewarding despair either by African decision-makers or by theorists having African interests in mind. It is as African leaders take positive steps to enlarge choice that they fulfill their respon-
[40] R. S. Jordan and J. P. Renninger, "The New Environment of Nation-Building," Journal of Modern African Studies 13, no. 2 (June 1975): 197.
sibilities to their countrymen and to the world.[41] These efforts at reaching (even straining) for the possible are the key element of realism too often cavalierly dismissed by the adoption of a grossly pessimistic outlook.
[41] The responsibility of African leaders and bureaucrats as developers is clearly pointed out in Irving L. Markovitz's "Bureaucratic Development and Economic Growth," Journal of Modern African Studies 14, no. 2 (June 1976): 183–200.
INDEX
A
ACP. See African, Caribbean, and Pacific Group
Abaluyia clan:
alliance of with Luo clan, 43 ;
interethnic strife of, 42
Abangwu, George C., 197n
Abernethy, David B., 46n
Abidjan, Ivory Coast, 256 , 257
Accommodation strategy, 115 -118;
compared to transformation strategy, 115 ;
to cope with scarcity, 309 -311;
and international capitalism, 115 -117;
policy of toward multinational corporations, 161 ;
and political alignment with the West, 117 -118;
premises of, 311 ;
sacrifices of, 322
Accountants, shortage of, 111
Acculturated mutant institutions, 77 -87, 307 -309;
democratic one-party structures as, 82 -85;
in the economic sphere, 86 -87;
in the electoral process, 81 -82;
federal structures as, 78 -81
Acheampong, Ignatius Kutu, regime of, 123 -124
Addis Ababa Agreement (1972), 79 -80
Addis Ababa summit conference (1963):
as advocating moderate integration, 244 -245;
compromises in, 329 ;
features of, 241 -242
Administrative centralization, 303 .
See also Central authority
Administrative structures:
as constraint on policy application, 18 , 24 ;
effect of on national unity, 53 -56
Africa:
bargaining of with multinational corporations, 151 -181;
"capabilities paradox" in, 38 ;
colonial environment in, 40 -47;
community decision-making model for, 27 -34, 161 -166;
economic growth in, 27 , 64 ;
ideology needed in, 101 -102;
imports and exports of, 210 -220;
income per capita in, 135 , 143 -144;
institutional legitimacy in, 50 -51;
political alignments in, 117 -118;
population in, 27 ;
reserve ownership in, 292 -293;
trade within, 198 -199;
underdevelopment of, 7 .
See also Debt repayment; East Africa; Economic integration; Foreign aid; Trade relations; West Africa
Africa, Caribbean, and Pacific Group (ACP), 233 , 250 -261;
countries in, 257 ;
emergence of,
255 -257, 265 ;
integration of commodity of sales by, 296 ;
negotiations of with EEC, 257 -261, 264 -266, 267 ;
success of, 329 -330
African Associates:
bargaining of with Europe, 251 -252;
economic aid to, 260 -261;
French-speaking, 254 ;
program adopted by, 256
African integration:
by asymmetrical bargaining, 327 -328;
vs. colonial legacy of separate states, 225 -231;
at the continental level, 233 , 241 -250, 262 ;
costs of, 329 ;
decision-making and economic policy interrelated for, 223 -224;
at the extracontinental level, 233 , 250 -261, 262 ;
implementation of, 221 -222;
via maximalist implementation, 222 -233, 262 -263;
by minimalist implementation, 233 -261, 262 , 263 -264;
as a "positivesum" game, 233 ;
at the regional level, 233 , 234 -241, 262 ;
via unitary government, 233
African leaders and decision elites:
central challenge of, 93 ;
and concept of contextuating control, 331 ;
concern of with territorial integrity and neocolonialism, 94 -95;
creativity and realism of, 77 ;
efforts of to reduce decisional costs, 70 , 72 , 77 , 89 , 305 -307;
environmental strain on, 37 -38;
exchange ratios accepted by, 163 ;
fears of about foreign aid, 277 -278;
linkage mechanisms for, 229 -230;
and maximalist policy implementation, 224 -225;
preferences of, 67 -69, 310 ;
simultaneous challenges and problems of, 38 , 303
African nationalist elite:
attitudes of toward colonial institutions, 50 -51;
in political parties, 61 , 67 -68;
preferences of, 67 -69, 310
African postindependent governments:
central authority sought by, 70 -72;
colonial legacies rejected by, 68 -77;
consitutions amended by, 72 -73;
control of political conflict by, 74 -76;
elections in, 81 -82;
federal experiments in, 78 -81;
nationalism vs. transnationalism in, 227 -231;
nationalized economic institutions in, 86 -87;
one-party structures in, 82 -85;
subregional authorities in, 72 ;
system credibility sought by, 72 -74.
See also Institutional transfer, after independence
Africanization:
in accommodationalist states, 115 ;
in bureaucracy, 54 , 306 ;
of recruitment policies, 308 ;
in reorganization strategy, 118 , 121
Aid. See Foreign aid
Algeria-Morocco conflict, 247
Alier, Abel, 81
Allison, Graham T., 98n
Almond, Gabriel A., 8n,94n ;
on egalitarian policies, 125n
Amin, Idi, 94 ;
assumption of power by in Uganda, 236 ;
role of in EAC, 236 -237
Amin, Samir, on colonial exploitation, 51 , 52 -53
Analytic capacity, in decisionmaking, 103
Andean Pact, 174 ;
regulation of foreign investment by, 206 -207
Angola:
and OAU, 248 ;
transformation strategy of, 135
Anya Nya forces, 80 , 81
Apartheid, 244
Arabian American Oil Company, 157
Army:
colonial, and national integration, 54 -5 7 ;
power seized by in Nigeria, 79 ;
recruitment for in Sudan, 80 -81;
resources invested in, 37 ;
supported by African goverments, 307
Arusha, Tanzania, 235
Arusha agreements, 250 , 253 ;
terms of second, 253 -254
Arusha Declaration (1967), 86
Assembly of Heads of State and Goverment (OAU), functions and powers of, 245 -246
Augmented availability, and industrial technology, 188 , 200
Awolowo, Obafemi, 45n , 47
B
Bahamas, 257
Bahr El Ghazal, 80
Balewa, Abubakar Tafawa, 243
Bamangwato Concessions Limited, 284
Banda, Kamuzu, 117
Bangala clan:, 41 , 56
Bantu-Nilotic assimilation, 43
Barbados, 257
Bargaining:
benefits from asymmetrical, 325 -333;
and cartels, 209 -220 passim;
compared with command process, 6 , 48 -49;
internal vs. external, 262 ;
limitations in after independence, 70 , 72 ;
models of, 11 , 27 -34, 161 -166, 180 -186, 325 -338;
policy harmonization for, 334 ;
unequal exchange in, 324 -325
Bargaining, joint:
and economic cooperation, 204 -205, 208 -209;
between intergovernmental cartels and global markets, 217 -219
Bargaining, between multinational companies and African governments, 151 -186;
alternatives in, 170 -171;
model for, 161 -166, 180 -186, 325 -327;
as a policy choice, 144 -145;
policy options with implications for, 175 -176;
regional and global policy harmonization for, 173 -179, 334 ;
at the state level, 166 -171
Barker, Jonathan S., 9n
Bates, Margaret L., 3n
Baumgartner, T., 325n
Behavioral decision rules, 109 -110
Belgian Congo, colonial army in, 56
Belgium, and sugar market, 261
Belief systems, role of in decisionmaking, 101 -103
Bemba Committee, 74
Bemba tribe, 44
Benefit-to-cost ratio. See Cost-benefit analysis
Benin:
income per capita in, 135 ;
industrial prospects of, 196
Berreman, Gerald D., 44n
Beshir, Mohamed Omer, 45n
B.F. Goodrich Company, 171
Birgirwenkya, Zarubarberi, 236
Bissell, Richard, 241 -242
Boganda, Barthélemy, 227
Bolivia, 174 , 206
Bong Mine company, 171
Border disputes, 243 , 247
Botswana, Republic of:
developmental efforts of, 24 -25;
exports from, 285 -286;
external debt of, 279 -280, 282 -291;
imports of, 287 ;
increased public revenue in, 286 ;
minerals and ores in, 284 -285;
national income of, 144 ;
and territorial integrity, 95
Braibanti, Ralph, viii , 40 ;
on colonial institutions, 63n
Brantley, Cynthia, viii
Brazzaville, 197 ;
intergovernmental approach of, 241
Bretton, Henery L., 167n
Brewster, Havelock, 199n
Briggs, Wenike: on bargaining position of Africa, 255 ;
as spokesman for African group in ACP, 256 , 257
Britain, 118 ;
colonial rule of in Nigeria, 45 , 54 ;
entry of into the EEC, 255 ;
foreign aid policy of, 297 ;
OAU diplomatic relations with, 248 -249;
and sugar market, 261 ;
and Tanzania, 140 -141
British Central Africa, 232
Brussels talks, of ACP, 256 , 257
Buchanan, James M.:
on bargaining process, 48 ;
on decision rules, 107n ;
on goals set by states, 92n
Budget allocations:
in Botswana, 24 -25;
in Ghana, 126 -127 (Table 3);
in Nigeria, 125 , 128 -131;
in Sudan, 81 ;
in Zambia, 14
Budget line, in decision-making model, 32 -33
Budgetary process:
"base" and "fair share" concepts in, 111 ;
behavioral decision rules for, 110 ;
example of incrementalism in, 125 ;
incremental decision rule for, 110 -112
Bureaucracy African personnel in, 54 , 306 ;
effect of on national unity, 53 -54;
expansion of after independence, 66 ;
impact of on
decision-making and policy formation, 103 -105;
information needs of, 99 ;
strengthening of, 61
Burns, T.R., 325n
Burundi:
income per capita in, 135 ;
poverty of, 144
Busia, K. A., 71
C
Caiden, Naomi, 95
Cameroun, 71
Capitalism, foreign:
in accommodation strategy, 114 -117;
African dependency on, 116 , 210 -220 passim;
vs. economic self-reliance, 139 ;
and foreign aid, 276 ;
after independence, 64 ;
Kenya's attitude toward, 134 ;
in reorganization strategy, 118 , 120 ;
vs. socialism, 137 -138;
vs. traditional economic institutions, 51 -52;
in transformation strategy, 135 , 137 , 139 , 312 -314, 316 -317
Capitalist class, in Africa, 68
Caribbean countries, in ACP, 257 .
See also African, Caribbean and Pacific Group
Cartels:
catalysts for, 327 , 328 ;
for cocoa, 217 -219;
intergovernmental, 186 ;
in international bargaining, 209 -220 passim
Casablanca group, 241 , 242
Cash economy, vs. traditional economy, 51 -52
Cattle:
as cause of conflicts, 42 ;
as source of foreign exchange earnings, 284
Censuses, in developing countries, 16n
Central African Republic, 227
Central authority:
establishment of, 307 ;
lack of, 18 ;
of a state, vs. intercountry coordination, 230 -231;
strengthening of after independence, 70 -72
Cervenka, Zdenek, 246
CFA Franc, 116n , 117
Chad:
and economic integration, 202 -203;
income per capita in, 135 ;
after independence, 115 ;
and OAU, 242 ;
proverty of, 144 ;
territorial assembly of, 57
Chieftainship, institutional changes in 49
Chile, 159 , 174 ;
and copper exportation, 211 ;
policy of on foreign investment, 207
China:
assistance from to Tanzania, 69 ;
foreign aid policy of, 271
Choice-making:
criteria for, 107 -108;
as setting priorities, 112 .
See also Decision-making; Expanding choice; Policy choice; Strategies of choice
Chona, Mainza, 83
Christian missionaries, 45 , 123
CIPEC. See Intergovernmental Council of Copper Exporting States
Civil service:
chiefs included in, 49 ;
inadequacy of in Botswana, 24 ;
after independence, 65 -66;
supported by African governments, 307 .
See also Bureacuracy
Clark, William, on characteristic of aid, 268n
Class cleavages, 314 -315
"Closed areas" of colonial period, 45
Cloves, 254
Clower, Robert, 164
Cocoa:
from ACP countries, 258 ;
cartel arrangements for, 217 -219;
from Nigeria, 252 ;
states which export, 328
Cocoa Producers Alliance, 217
Coffee, 216 , 254
Cohen, Michael A., on efficacy of interest groups, 85 -86
Coleman, James:
on African bureaucrats, 54 ;
on goals of political economy, 10n ;
on tasks of policy-makers, 97n
Colombia, 174 , 207
Colonial officials:
in Botswana, 24 ;
attitude of toward African political parties, 60 ;
as blocking national integration, 45 -46;
economic policies of, 51 -53;
efficacy of, 88 ;
as promoting separate ethnic interests, 43 -44;
resources of, 47 -48, 53 ;
role of in institutional transfer and innovation, 47 -61;
self-interest of, 50 ;
state-building by, 40 -41
Colonial period, 40 -61;
customs unions of, 197 ;
distribution of resources during, 46 -47;
ethnic identification vs. state institutions in, 44 -45;
ethnic integration and conflict in, 41 -44, 56 ;
legislative councils in, 57 -58;
national integration during, 43 -47, 53 -58;
police and army in, 54 -57;
political parties in, 58 -61;
reciprocal needs in 61 , 62 .
See also Colonialism; Decolonization; Institutional transfer, in colonial period
Colonialism:
impact of on African
integration, 225 -231;
OAU opposition to, 248 ;
policy of "indirect rule" in, 45 ;
and policy constraints, 20 ;
and problems of elite linkage, 229 -230.
See also Neocolonialism
"Command" vs. bargaining procedures, 6 , 48 -49
"Command model," in colonial period, 48 -49, 70 , 88 , 305 , 306
Commonwealth Africa:
in ACP, 257 ;
trade with Europe by, 252 -255
Commonwealth Pacific Ocean states, in ACP Group, 257
Community decision-making model, 27 -34, 161 -166;
to compare strategies of choice, 321 -323;
and scarcity of resources, 142 -143
"Communocratic" tradition, 135
Comparative policy approach:
problems of, 25 , 27 ;
utility of, 9 -15
Comparative Politics, Committee on, 93
Conflict control:
by avoiding public exposure, 74 , 307 ;
closed conflict strategy for, 74 -76;
by OAU, 247 -248;
by reducing institutionalized conflict, 309 ;
in Sudan, 80
Constitutions, African:
amendments to, 72 -73, of Nigeria, 78 , 79 , 125 , 129 , 232 ;
protections of, 61 , 62 , 307 ;
significance of, 66
"Contextuating" control, 330 -331
Contini, Bruno, 161n
Copper, 122 ;
in Botswana, 285 ;
nationalization of mines, 132 ;
prices of, 167 , 282 -283;
regulation of market for, 211 , 214 -216, 219 -220.
See also Intergovernmental Council of Copper Exporting States
Corden, W.M., 189n
Cost-benefit analysis;
in bargaining, 161 -166, 332 ;
as basis of governmental policies, 10 ;
of multinational companies in Africa, 153 , 155 -156
Cost-benefit approach:
to policy choice, 310 ;
to public policy, 301 -302
Costs:
in bargaining, 161 , 262 , 263 ;
of colonial investment in political infrastructure, 47 ;
efficiency, 69 -74;
of imported technology, 68 -69;
opportunity, 143 ;
and rejected colonial legacies, 69 -74.
See also Decision costs
Council of Ministers (OAU), 245 , 246
Court systems, 66
Crop failures, 96
Crozier, Brian, 135
Crude rubber, in Liberia, 171 -172
Curry, Robert L., Jr., viii , 98 n106n ;
and bargaining model, 33n , 161n ;
on economic cooperation, 199n ;
on institutions, 12
Customs unions:
of Botswana, 285 -286;
colonial, 197
Cyert, Richard M., 109
D
Dahl, Robert A., 10n
Dahomey (Benin), 144
Dakar, 197
Dar es Salaam, 141 , 235
De Beers Prospecting, Botswana, Limited, 285 , 289
Debt repayment, 166 , 279 -291;
in Botswana, 279 -280, 282 -291;
burden of, 293 , 296 ;
in Liberia, 279 -282;
measuring capacity for, 280 -281;
and problems of economic assistance, 271 ;
in Zambia, 279 -280, 282 -283
Debt-service/exports ratio, 280 , 290
Decision costs:
of command process in colonial period, 47 , 48 -49;
and one-party state structures, 84 ;
of post-colonial African governments, 62 , 63 ;
reduced via policy externalization, 330 ;
reduced by postindependent governments, 70 , 72 , 77 , 89 , 305 -307;
of unanimity rules, 108
Decision-making:
economic policy interrrelated with, 223 -224;
factors influencing, 98 -105;
limitations of minimalist and maximalist approches to, 262 -264;
middle implementation strategy for, 264 ;
model of for an African community, 27 -34, 161 -166
Decision processes, 305 -323;
ranking of priorities in, 321 -323;
redesigning structures of, 307 -309;
reducing costs of, 305 -307;
strategies of choice in, 309 -323
Decision rules:
behavioral, 109 -110;
incremental, 110 -111;
normative, 106 -109;
and policy outputs, 105 -112
"Declaration on the Question of Dialogue," (OAU), 244
Decolonization, 47 -61;
attitudes toward federation during, 231 -233;
and inherited institutions vs. national self-determination, 50 -51;
institutions favoring national integration during, 53 -58;
and political parties, 58 -61;
and reducing decisional costs, 70 , 72 , 77 , 89 , 305 -307.
See also Institutional transfer, after independence
Deising, Paul, 325
Demands, 17 -18. See also Reciprocal demand intensity
Democratic one-party structures, 82 -83
Deniau, M. Jean-Francois, 257
Dependency, on foreign capitalism, 64 , 209 -220 passim;
in accommodation strategy, 116 ;
promoted by foreign aid, 270 -271, 273 , 274 -279, 293 ;
rejected by transformationalist states, 316 -317
Deutsch, Karl W., 38n ;
on functions of politics, 92 ;
on learning responses, 77n ;
on maximalist policy strategy, 224n ;
on results of power, 49
Developing countries, and UNCTAD, 176 -179. See also Less developed countries
Development administration, and political economy, 25 -26
DeVos, George, 44
Diamonds, 285
Dina, I.O., Chief, 129
Distributable pool system, 232
Distributing net benefits, 200 -209
Distribution crisis, 94
Dror, Yehezkel, 5n ;
on goals of policy analysis, 9 -10;
on role of time in policy-making, 7 -8;
on uncertainty in decision-making, 23
Dudley, B.J., 13n
Dumont, René, 179 -180
Duval, Gaetan, 118
Dye, Thomas R.:
definition of policy analysis by, 3 ;
on institutions and policy outcomes, 12 -13
E
EAC. See East African Community
EACM. See East African Common Market
East Africa:
bargaining strategies of, 175 -176;
closed conflict strategy in, 76 ;
colonial administration in, 48 ;
federation of, 48 , 231 ;
institutional change in, 50 ;
one-party structures in, 82 -85;
trade imbalances in, 232
East African Airways Corporation, 207 , 235 , 237 , 239
East African Authority, 235
East African Common Market:
crisis within, 204 ;
and distribu-
tion of benefits, 203 ;
operation of, 203
East African Community, 133 , 234 -241, 329 ;
agencies in, 235 -236;
budget appropriations of, 237 ;
compared to OAU and ACP, 233 -234;
decline of, 203 ;
effect of military coup in Uganda on, 236 -238;
financial problems of, 239 -240;
functioning of, 236 , 237 , 238 , 239 ;
institutional viability of, 236 -241;
political decision-making in, 223 ;
trade in, 198 ;
trade negotiations of with EEC, 253 -254
East African Development Bank, 235
East African Harbours Corporation, 235 , 237 , 238 , 239
East African Legislative Assembly, 236
East African Posts and Telecommunications Corp., 235 , 240 ;
financial problems of, 240
East African Railways Corporation, 235 ;
finances of, 239 , 240
East India Company, 152
Easton, David:
on outputs of political systems, 13 ;
process model of, 26
Economic assistance:
basic problems of, 270 -271;
from EEC to ACP countries, 260 -261;
foreign aid linked with foreign investment in, 277 -278;
without dependency, 145 .
See also Foreign aid
Economic Community of West Africa, 145
Economic growth, 96 ;
in accommodationalist states, 311 ;
improvements in, 292 -293;
vs. economic self-reliance, 139 ;
and inherited capitalism, 64 ;
in reorganizationalist states, 118 -120;
vs. social values, 100
Economic innovations, in Tanzania, 86 -87, 89 , 308
Economic integration, 187 -220;
aims and mechanics of, 188 -209;
bargaining via cartels for, 210 -220 passim;
and dependency on global economy, 210 -220;
limited trade in, 204 -209 passim;
as a policy choice, 145 ;
policy harmonization for, 204 -209;
regional, 197 -200;
relieving dependency on metropolitan countries for, 197 -198;
service links in, 204 -207;
structural transformation for, 199 ;
tariff control for, 193 -197.
See also Net benefits
Economic opportunity:
and African integration, 261 -262;
expansion of, 187 , 193 , 332 -333
Economies of scale, in production, 188 , 191 , 193 , 200
ECOWAS. See West African Economic Community
Ecuador, 174 , 207
Education:
in colonial Nigeria, 46 -47;
and interethnic cohesion, 54
Edwards, E.O., 268
EEC. See European Economic Community
Efficiency, meanings of, 6
Efficiency costs, and rejected colonial legacies, 69 -74
Egalitarian objectives, 68
Eisenstadt, S.N.:
on breakdowns in modernization, 39n ;
on bureaucracy and national unity, 53 ;
on demands, 17 -18
Ekangaki, Nzo:
on African trade negotiations, 255 ;
on finances of OAU, 249 ;
resignation of, 247
Elections, in Uganda, 81 -82, 308
Elite. See African nationalist elite
Employment of natives, 121 . See also Africanization
Enforcement, in colonial period, 54 -57. See also Conflict control
England. See Britain
English language, 45
Environment, definition of, 13n
Environmental strain:
and institutional transfer, 77 ;
on policy choice, 20 ;
on statesmen in middle Africa, 37 -38
Equality, various meanings of, 6
Equatoria, 80
Equatorial Africa, federation of, 227 , 232
Equatorial Guinea, in ACP, 257
Equity in distribution, decision rules for, 107
Eritrea, 94
Ethiopia, 94 ;
in ACP, 257 ;
income per capita in, 135 ;
poverty of, 144 ;
programs and ideology in, 102
"Ethiopia Tikdem," 102
Ethnic integration and conflict, in colonial period, 40 -46
Ethnicity, and recruitment in colonial armies and police forces, 56 -57
Etzioni, Amitai, 231n ;
on comprehensive planning, 304 ;
on maximalist model, 263n ;
"mixed scanning" approach of, 264
European Commission, and ACP countries, 257 -258, 260
European Common Market:
African bargaining with, 251 -252;
neocolonialism of, 252
European Development Fund, 257 ;
functioning of, 260 -261
European Economic Community (EEC), 173 ;
African trade relations with, 210 -215;
initial relations of with ACP, 255 -257;
negotiations of with ACP, 257 -261, 264 -266;
Nigeria's agreement with, 250 , 252 -253;
securing assured access to, 251 , 252 ;
trade negotiations of with East Africa, 253 -255
European Investment Bank, 260
Expanding choice:
asymmetrical bargaining for, 325 -333;
and implementation of public policies, 324 -335;
and reducing scarcity, 301 -335;
via regional harmonization, 331 -333
Expanding net benefits, 188 , 189 -198
Exports:
of ACP countries, 258 , 260 ;
and African dependence on global economy, 210 -220;
from East Africa, 254 ;
from Nigeria, 252 .
See also Trade relations
Exports/gross domestic income ration, 280 -281, 290
Exports/imports ratio, and debt-servicing, 281 , 291
External control, securing freedom from:
as a system goal, 95 -96, 97 ;
in Tanzania, 140
External-debt-servicing costs, 279 .
See also Debt repayment
F
Fanon, Frantz, 101
Federal experimentation, 78 -81;
in Nigeria, 78 -79;
in Sudan, 80 -81
Federal Republic of Germany, 141 , 171
Federalism:
and central authority, 71 , 72 ;
classical, as unsuitable for Africa, 222 , 226 -227, 233 ;
cooperative, 77 ;
fragility of, 61 , 62 , 70 ;
regional, vs. separate states, 227 -233
Fibers, 216
Fiji, 257
Firestone Tire and Rubber Company, 171
First Development Decade, of UN, 270
Food and Agriculture Organization, of UN, 96 , 273 , 293
Foreign aid:
adequacy of, 272 -274, 291 -292;
appropriate vs. inappropriate, 267 -268, 278 -279, 296 ;
in bargaining model, 325 -328;
basic characteristics of, 268 -269;
debt repayment for, 279 -291;
inappropriate concessions to, 333 ;
level of required for development, 292 ;
political interference from 277 ;
problems of, 270 -271;
as promoting structural dependency, 270 -271, 273 , 274 -279;
relative to foreign investment, 277 -278;
to rural areas, 297 ;
sources of, 267
Foreign investment:
advantages and disadvantages of, 158 -160;
in Botswana, 284 -285;
vs. concept of aid, 268 -269;
as linked with foreign aid, 277 -278;
and nationalization, 132 ;
regulation of, 206 -207;
in Sierra Leone, 158 ;
in Tanzania, 140 , 141 .
See also Multinational corporations
Foreign policy:
in accommodation strategy, 117 -118;
in Kenya, 133 -134;
of socialist self-reliance in Tanzania, 140 -141
Fourth World countries, defined, 115
France:
and Guinean independence, 59 -60;
influece of on Mali, 115 -116;
mathematical planning in, 304 , neocolonialism of, 276 ;
rejection of Nigerian-EEC agreement by, 253 ;
and sugar market, 261
Freedom, meanings of, 6
French Equatorial Africa, 197
French Treasury subventions, 116 -117
French West Africa, 197
French-speaking states, in Africa, 70 -71
Friend, J.K., 330 -331
G
Gabon, and federation, 232
Gambia:
and distributing net benefits, 200 -201;
and unification with Senegal, 203
Gambles, Glen, vii
Gardiner, Robert, 209 -210
Garmany, J.W., 163n
Geertz, Clifford, 44n
General Secretariat of OAU, 246 -247
Generating net benefits:
economic principles underlying, 189 -193;
on a regional basis, 198 -200
Ghai, Dharam, 203 ;
on economic integration, 208 -209
Ghana, 94 ;
cocoa exports of, 217 -218;
expenditures of by function, 125 , 126 -127 (Table 3);
federalism in, 71 ;
labor movement in, 84 -85;
police force in, 65 , 67 ;
population and economic growth of, 313 ;
reallocative policy in, 123 -125;
reorganizationalist strategy in, 118 ;
"revolutionary" program in, 124 ;
trade with Europe, 211 ;
United States aid to, 297
Gichuru, James, 223
Global assistance. See Foreign aid
Global business agreements, 176 -179
Global economy:
African in, 52 , 64 ;
African dependency on, 209 -220, 271 ;
and decision-making in developing countries, 22 ;
trade diversion in, 189 -190.
See also Bargaining, between multinational companies and African governments; Capitalism, foreign
Golembiewski, Robert T., 4n
Government, 10 .
See also African postindependent governments
Gowon, Takuba, 79
Grenada, 257
Gross Domestic Product:
of Ghana, 313 ;
of Kenya, 119 ;
of Tanzania, 138
Gross National Product:
determination of, 16 ;
of Zambia, 119
Groth, Alexander, vii ;
and outputs of political systems, 13n
Group of 77:
functions of, 176 -177;
guidelines established by, 204 -205;
and multinational corporations, 186
Guidelines, for Nigeria, 120
Guinea:
in ACP, 257 ;
human investment in, 318 ;
income per capita in, 135 ;
independence of, 59 -60;
poverty of, 144 ;
transformation strategy of, 135 ;
youth groups in, 84
Guinea Bissau, in ACP, 257
Guyana, 257
H
Haas, Ernst B., 223 ;
on accommodation in bargaining, 234 ;
on international programs, 250
Halpern, Manfred, 16
Hazelwood, Arthur, 203n
Hirschman, Albert O., decision rules of, 109 -110
Hodkin, Thomas, on African political parties, 59 , 60n
Hoffman, Stanley, 264
Houphouet-Boigny, Felix:
on injustice vs. disorder, 311 ;
on integration, 244 -245
Huntington, Samuel P.:
on institutions, 12n ;
on mobilizing political
support, 63 n ;
on national identity, 53n
Hyden, Gordon, 65n
Hymer, Stephen, 152
I
Ibo clan, 44
Idelology, need for in Africa, 101 -102
Ilchman, Warren F., 4 ;
on comparative analysis, 11 ;
on political exchange, 39 ;
on process of choice, 109
Illiteracy, 20
Impatience:
in bargaining at the state level, 167 -171;
restraints on, 168 -171, 332 ;
as variable in bargaining model, 161 , 163 -166 180 , 182 -186, 327
Impedance, in decision-making of postindependent African governments, 68 -77, 88
Imperialism, and foreign aid, 271 , 274
Imports:
and African dependence on global markets, 210 -220;
and the Yaoundé convention, 251 -252.
See also Trade relations
Income, in African countries, 135 , 143 -144;
expected rise in from economic integration, 188 ;
per capita, 27 , 135 , 278
Incrementalism:
vs. comprehensive planning in Ghana, 125 ;
decision rules for, 110 -111;
in policy choice, 19 ;
role of in developing lands, 21
Independence, 115 ;
and classical federalism, 226 -227;
vs. federations, 228 ;
institutions and values continued after, 64 -68;
institutions rejected after, 68 -77;
political parties for, 59 -60.
See also African postindependent governments; Institutional transfer, after independence
Indifference curve, 142 -143, 146 ;
definition of, 180
Indifference curve analysis, in bargaining model, 180 -186;
in decision-making model, 28 -33 passim
Industrial development, in Nigeria, 120
Industrial licensing, and bargaining, 175
Industries, regional allocation of, 175 -176
Information:
in decision-making, 99 -100;
need for in policy-making and implementation, 23 , 25 ;
as unreliable and inadequate, 16 , 18 -19, 99
Input-output feedback model, 17
Institutional resources, changing, 37 -90;
acculturated institutions in, 77 -87;
colonial background of, 40 -47;
impedance and facilitation in, 61 -77, 307 -308;
and statebuilding, 37 -39.
See also Institutional transfer, in colonial period
Institutional transfer, in colonial period, 39 -61;
and African nationalists, 50 -51;
bureaucracy in, 53 -54;
economic changes in, 51 -53;
and establishing an acceptable authority system, 39 -40, 47 -61;
legislative councils in, 57 -58;
methods of, 49 -50, 51 ;
and national unity, 53 -58;
police and army in, 54 -57;
political parties in, 58 -61;
and resources of colonial officials, 47 -49, 53
Institutional transfer, after independence, 62 -90;
colonial legacies rejected during, 68 -77;
efficiency costs as factor in, 69 -74;
elite preferences as factor in, 67 -69;
executive bodies and bureaucracies continued in, 64 -65, 66 ;
federal structures in, 78 -81;
functional roles assigned to continued structures, 66 -67;
historical continuity and values in, 63 -66;
one-party structures in, 82 -85
Institutions:
comparative policy approach to, 12 -13;
test for, 108
Integration crisis, 94 . See also African integration
Interest groups:
vs. closed conflict strategy, 74 -76;
vs. disorder, 311 ;
efficacy of in Ivory Coast, 85 -86;
influence of on policy application, 17 , 19 , 21 -22;
and one-party structures, 84
Interethnic integration:
affected by bureaucracy, 54 ;
in colonial period, 41 -47, 87 -88
Intergovernmental Council of Copper Exporting States (CIPEC), 187 ;
and copper prices, 283 ;
compared to OPEC, 328 ;
efforts of to control copper market, 211 , 214 -216, 220 .
See also Copper
International capitalism. See Capitalism, foreign
International Development, Report of the Commission on, 272 , 274 , 292
International Monetary Fund, 273 , 279 , 293 ;
survey of Botswana by, 287 , 289
International power relations, 7
International Telephone and Telegraph Company, 159
Iron ore, 171
Ironsi, Aguiyi, 79
Italy, 282
Ivory Coast:
attitudes of on federation and integration, 232 , 244 ;
capitalism in, 64 ;
and cocoa cartel arrangements, 218 ;
injustice vs. disorder in, 311 ;
interest groups in, 85 -86;
secessionist movement in, 71 ;
trade of, 198
J
Jackson, Robert H., 18n
Jamaica, 257
Japan, 171
Joint bargaining. See Bargaining, joint
Joint-stock companies, 152
Jordan, Robert S., 334
Judd, Frank, 297
K
Kagombe, Maina, 101
Kamba clan, 56
Kampala, 235
Kampala agreement (1964):
and allocation of industries, 176 ;
origin of, 232
Kariuki, Josiah Mwangi, 315
Katanga, 159
Kaunda, Kenneth (as President of Zambia), 9 ;
closed conflict strategy of, 74 ;
and multinational corporations, 159 ;
nationalization policies of, 131 -132;
on necessity of the June 1969 referendum, 73 ;
preferences of, 67 ;
rural development policy of, 122
Kenya, 94 ;
Bantu-Nilotic assimilation in, 43 ;
bureaucracy in after independence, 65 ;
civil service in after independence, 65 -66;
consitutional amendments in, 73 ;
development plans in, 121 ;
and EACM. 203 ;
economic growth in, 119 ;
employed non-citizens in, 121 ;
ethnic members of police force in, 56 , 65 -66;
European majority in legislative council of, 48 ;
federalism in, 71 ;
information needs of, 99 -100;
interethnic strife in, 42 ;
international capitalism in, 64 ;
and Kampala agreement, 176 ;
military forces of, 67 ;
nationalization of economy in, 131 ;
nonaligment and foreign policy of, 133 -134;
policy of toward multinational corporations, 168 -169;
relations with Tanzania, 238 -239;
reorganization strategy in, 118 ;
role of as political broker, 223 ;
social equity in, 315 ;
status of parliamentary bodies in, 66 ;
trade of, 198 , 211 , 238
Kenya African National Union, 73
Kenyatta, Jomo, 67 ;
role of in crises of EAC, 237 -238
Kibaki, Mwai, 99 , 103
Kikuyu people, 56
Kingston, EEC-ACP negotiations at, 258 , 260
Kuwait, 217
L
Labor unions, 156 -157
Lago, Joseph, 81
Lagos agreement (1973), 173
Laitin, David, vii
Lake Tahoe, 12
Lake Victoria, 12
Land, ownership of in colonial period, 48 , 51
Law and order, 54 -57
LDCs. See Less developed countries
Legal codes, 48 , 58
Legislatures:
creation of, 49 ;
effect of on national unity, 57 -58;
European majority in, 48 ;
limiting the authority of, 307 ;
structural continuity and values of, 66 ;
weakening of, 61
Legitimacy, of a state, 93 -94
Legum, Colin, 248
Leonard, David, 21n ;
on inadequate data in Kenya, 99
Lesotho:
custom union in, 286 ;
income per capita in, 135 ;
independence of, 115 ;
poverty of, 144
Less developed countries (LDCs):
collective tasks of, 97 -99;
European trade concessions to, 261 ;
grain supply in, 96 -97;
limited range of choice in, 19 -20;
misuse of scarce resources in, 304 ;
policy implementation in, 21 -23, 24 -25;
quality of policy-making in, 23 -25;
relevance of public-policy literature to, 15 -23, 26
Leys, Colin:
on global economy in decision-making, 22 ;
on policy analysis vs. management, 20
Liberation of Africa, 244 , 249 -250
Liberia:
in ACP, 257 ;
economics of, 163 -164;
external debt of, 279 -282;
finances of, 280 , 281 ;
industrial prospects of, 196 ;
multinational corporations in, 171 -172;
rubber in, 171 -172;
trade of, 198
Licensing agencies, in East Africa, 175
Lieber, Robert, vii
Line-of-rail provinces, 46 , 122
Lipset, Seymour M., 100n
Lipton, Michael, 179
Loans, 291 . See also Foreign investment
Lomé agreement, 145 , 296
Lome convention (1975), 258 , 260 ;
implementation of, 265
London and Rhodesia Company, 247
London Metal Exchange, 219
Luo Tribe, 42 , 43
Lusaka conference, 208
Luxembourg, 253
M
Machel, Samora, 316
Magadi Soda Company, 134
Maina, Charles, in EAC, 236 -237
Malawi:
income per capita in, 135 ;
after independence, 115 ;
poverty of, 144
Mali:
income per capita in, 135 ;
poverty of, 144 ;
strategy changes in, 115 -116;
youth groups in, 84
March, James G., 109
Marx, Fritz Morstein, 104
Marxism, and transformation strategy, 135
Masai tribe, 42
Mauritius:
in ACP, 256 ;
as rejecting nonalignment policy, 118
Maximalist implementation pattern, 222 -233;
colonial legacy as a source of limitations on, 225 -231;
defined, 222 ;
environmental strain as an impedance to, 224 -225;
limitations of in decision-making, 263 -264
Mazrui, Ali A.:
on African political experiments, 81 ;
on control of conflict, 76 ;
on ethnic integration, 41
Mboya, Tom:
and constitution of Kenya, 73 ;
on economic growth, 118 -119
Meade, James E., 190n
Merchant associations, 59
Middle implementation strategy, 261 -266
Milburn, Josephine, viii
Miltary coups, 79
Military forces, 61 , 66 -67. See also Army
Minimalist implementation pattern, 233 -261;
comparison of organizations using, 233 -234;
at the continental level, 233 , 241 -250;
defined, 222 ;
at the extracontinental level, 233 , 251 -260;
at the
regional level, 233 , 234 -241;
successes and failures of, 264 -266;
limitations of, 263 -264;
differences in performances of, 262
Mining industry:
and external debt, 280 , 283 -284;
nationalization of, 132
Mishan, E.J., 107
MNCs. See Multinational corporations
Modern nation-state, creation of, 93 -97
Modernization:
breakdowns in, 39 ;
costs of, 317
Mohammed, General Murtala, 79
Molteno, Robert, 41n
Monetary reform, 293
Money, in decision-making model, 32 -33
Monrovia powers, intergovernmental approach of, 241 , 242
Mount Kilimanjaro, 86
Mozambique:
and territorial integrity, 95 ;
transformation strategy of, 135 , 316
Mtei, Edwin, 238
Multinational corporations (mncs), 112 ;
advantages and disadvantages of in Africa, 158 -160;
African governments as bargaining with, 151 -186;
bargaining with as a policy choice, 144 -145;
characteristics of, 152 -153;
conflict of interest in, 157 ;
and constraints on decision-making, 22 ;
determining a public policy toward, 144 -145, 160 -161;
global agreements with, 176 -179;
and impatience of African governments, 163 -165;
and labor unions, 156 -157;
reducing the options of, 332 ;
regional agreements with, 174 -176;
in reorganizationalist states, 120 ;
tax base of, 165 -166;
transfer of technology by, 159 -160;
and "united front," 173 ;
in Zambia, 136 .
See also Foreign investment
Multiparty systems, 70 .
See also Political parties
Mungai, Njoroge, 133 , 134
Muskat, Marion, 271n
Muslim Brothers, 81
Mwaanga, Vernon J., 93
Mwanza Mill, in Tanzania, 69
Mytelka, Lynn K., 203n ;
on legitimacy of integration, 187
N
Nandi tribe, 42
Nairobi, 235
National Independence Party, 74
National integration:
vs. federation, 228 -229;
by national elections, 81 -82;
as outcome of colonial institutions, 53 -58;
problems of during colonial period, 43 -47.
See also Nationalism
Nationalism:
and global technology, 152 -161;
political parties for, 59 -60, 61 .
See also African nationalist elite
Nationalist,254
Nationalization:
of economy in Zambia, 131 -132, 136 , 167 -168;
in reorganization strategy, 131 -132;
in Tanzania, 86
Nchanga Consolidated Copper Mines, 132
Nekyon, Adoko, 231
Neocolonialism:
of the European Common Market, 252 ;
evidences of, 94 ;
via foreign aid programs, 271 , 276
Net benefits:
distribution of, 200 -209;
expansion of, 188 , 189 -198;
generation of, 198 -200
New Nigerian,130
Newlyn, William, 204
Ngoni tribe, 41
Niger:
income per capita in, 135 ,
independence of, 115 ;
poverty of, 144
Nigeria, 41 ;
agreement of with EEC, 250 , 252 -253;
civil war in, 247 ;
colonial development in, 46 -47;
colonial police force in, 55 -56;
constitution of 78 , 79 , 125 , 129 , 232 ;
economic growth of, 119 , 120 ;
and European Development Fund, 261 ;
federal experimentation in, 71 , 78 -79;
impact of indirect colonial rule on,
45 ;
legislative council in, 58 , 79 ;
nationalization in, 131 ;
native middle-level administrators in, 54 ;
oil in, 119 , 128 , 130 , 131 , 169 -170;
police force in after independence, 65 ;
reorganization strategy in, 118 ;
reserve holding of, 292 -293;
revenue allocation in, 125 , 128 -131;
trade with Europe by, 211
Nigeria, Constituent Assembly of, 79
Nigeria, Federal Military Government of, 79
Nigerian Enterprises Promotion Decree (1972), 121
Nigerian Opinion,129
Nimeiry, Jaafar el, 81
Niskanen, William A, Jr., 108 -109
Nkrumah, Kwame:
attitude of on federalism, 72 ;
and maximalist federalism, 244 , 245 ;
and neocolonialism, 252 , 276 ;
and regional assemblies, 71 ;
and regional federations, 228 -229
Nonalignment, in reorganization strategy, 133 -134
Normative guides to policy, 106
Northern Rhodesia, 58
Nyanza, raids by Luo tribe in, 42
Nye, Joseph S.:
on conflicts mediated by OAU, 248 ;
on maximalist strategy, 222n ;
on multinational corporations, 157n
Nyerere, Julius K.:
on capitalism, 316 ;
on colonialism, 52 ;
commitment of to self-reliance, 140 ;
developmental programs of, 138 -140;
on economic cooperation, 208 ;
on establishing a federation, 227 -228;
and one-party structures, 83 ;
preferences of, 67 ;
role of in EAC, 237 ;
on socialism vs. capitalism, 137 -138, 319 ;
and West Germany, 141
Nytil Textiles of Uganda, 175
O
OAU. See Organization of African Unity
Obasanjo, Olusegun, 79
Obote, A. Milton:
loyalty of Tanzania to, 236 ;
proposal for elections by, 81 -82, 308 ;
reforms of, 67
Odinga, Jaramogi O., 159n
OECD countries, foreign aid from, 274 , 275 , 292
Ogot, Bethwell A., 42
Ohlin, Goran, 273n
Oil:
cartel arrangement for, 216 -217, 219 ;
consultancy agreement for, 247 ;
in Ghana, 125 ;
in Nigeria, 119 , 128 , 130 , 131 , 169 -170
Okumu, John J., 134
Olorunsola, Victor, viii
Olson, Edward, viii
Olson, Mancur, on size of organizations, 104n , 230n
OPEC. See Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries
Operation Feed Yourself, 125
"Operational profile," of a political system, 13
Opportunity costs, defined, 143 .
See also Economic opportunity
Opposition parties, 82 -83, 307
Organization of African Unity (OAU), 241 -250, 264 , 329 ;
charter and structure of, 241 -243, 245 -247;
compared to EAC and ACP, 233 -234;
economic and military effectiveness of, 249 -250;
efficacy of, 247 -250;
role of in ACP, 256 -257;
strategy of integration of, 244 -245;
and territorial integrity, 243 ;
and trade relationships, 243
Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC):
compared to CIPEC, 328 ;
efficacy of, 216 -217
Ostrom, Elinor, 301n
Outcomes, political, 14 -15, 21
Outputs, political, 13 -14, 21
P
Palm oil, 252
Pan-African militancy, 117 , 140 -141
Pan-Africanism:
in establishment of OAU, 241 ;
and foreign aid, 277
Parastatal organizations, 37 , 86 , 308
"Pareto Optimum," as a decision rule, 107
Parsons, Talcott, 100
Parti Démocratique de Guinée,59
Participation crisis, 94 , 95
Payer, Cheryl, on debt-servicing costs, 279n , 291n
Peanut oil:
from ACP countries, 258 ;
from Nigeria, 252
Pearson, Lester B., 272n
Pearson Report, assistance level suggested by, 272 , 274 , 292
Penetration crisis, 94 , 95
Personnel:
in Botswana, 24 ;
for budgetary process, 111 ;
for planning agencies, 18
Peru, 174 ;
and copper exportation, 211 ;
foreign investment in, 207
Petroleum, price of, 167 .
See also Oil
Phosphate production, 116
Physicians, 135
Pineapples, tinned, 254
Plessz, Nicolas, 197
Polhemus. James H., 246
Police:
colonial, and national integration, 54 -57;
expansion of after independence, 66 -67;
resources invested in, 37 ;
strengthening of, 61 ;
supported by African governments, 307 ;
values associated with, 65
Policy analysis:
comparative approach to, 9 -15, 25 , 27 ;
critical disciplines combined in, 4 -5;
definition of, 3 ;
goals and functions of, 9 -10;
limited application of to Third World, 15 -23, 26 ;
structural-functional approach in, 8 -9.
See also Political economy approach
Policy analysts:
deterministic thinking of, 6 -7, 11 ;
goals of, 9 ;
pessimism of, 7 ;
preconceived preferences of, 6 ;
research methods of, 16 -17;
static theoretical orientations of, 8 -9, 11 ;
time perspective used by 7 -8
Policy choice:
constraints on, 19 -20;
to cope with scarcity, 144 -146;
emphasis on in political economy approach, 4 -5.
See also Decision-making; Expanding choice; Strategies of choice
Policy externalization:
and bargaining, 327 ;
for common policy decisions, 328 -329;
defined, 221n ;
multiple objectives promoted by, 262 ;
as reducing decisional costs, 330
Policy evaluation, 25 , 27
Policy harmonization:
for bargaining with multinational companies, 173 -179, 334 ;
and economic cooperation, 204 -209
Policy implementation:
by colonial bureaucracy, 53 -54;
limitations of public-policy literature on, 21 -23.
middle strategy for, 261 -266;
problems of, 24 -25.
See also African integration; Maximalist implementation pattern; Minimalist implementation pattern; Scarcity of resources, coping with
Policy-making:
constraints on in less developed countries, 15 -23;
effects of scarcity on, 303 -304;
institutions as a major factor in, 38 -39;
quality of in less developed countries, 23 -25
Political alignment, 117 -118.
See also Nonalignment, in reorganization strategy
Political economy approach:
analytic and prescriptive functions of, 5 , 26 ;
choice as emphasis of, 4 -5;
focus of on institutions, 12 -13;
interdisciplinary perspective of, 10 -11;
possible problems of, 6 -9;
to social change and problemsolving, 4 ;
strategies of choice in, 113 -142;
as useful to students and statesmen, 5 , 11 , 26
Political exchange:
institutions as facilitating, 38 -39;
reduced by separate statehood, 230 -231
Political modernization:
applied to Africa, 94 -98;
theory of, 93 -98;
Western ethnocentrism in, 95
Political parties:
formation and functions of in colonial period, 49 , 58 -61;
for independence and
nationalism, 59 -60, 61 , 74 ;
multiparty system, 70 ;
one-party structures, 70 , 82 -85, 303 ;
opposition parties, 82 -83, 307 ;
resources invested in, 37
Political science, as interdependent with economics, vii , 5
Polyarchy, 306
Portugal, 244
"Positive-sum" game, for integration, 233
Potholm, Christian P., 55
Poverty, 20 , 144
Power, J.M., 330 -331
Priorities:
institutional resources to activate, 37 -38;
ranking of, 12 , 319 -323;
relative to state-building, 97 -98
Problem-solving:
in comparative policy analysis, 12 ;
first task of, 93 ;
after independence, 69 -71;
neglected by social scientists, 21 ;
in political economy approach, 4 , 302
Production:
increase in from economic integration, 188 -189;
via public or private enterprise, 30 ;
in reorganization strategy, 118 -120;
in socialism, 138
Production possibilities curve:
defined, 29 -30;
in decision-making model, 29 -33, 142 , 146 ;
in ideal aid situation, 269 -270, 271 , 273
Public policy:
cost-benefit approach to, 301 -302;
decision rules for, 105 -112;
implementation of, 324 -335;
institutional approach to, 301 -302;
literature of, 21 -23;
systems approach to, 301 -302
Pye, Lucian W., on political modernization, 93n , 95
R
Racial discrimination:
in African postindependent regimes, 68 ;
and OAU, 244 , 248
Racism, 20
Raisman Commission (1958), 128
Raisman distributable pool system, 232
Rake, Alan, 240
Ranney, Austin, 14n
Rational choice:
vs. ideologies, 102 -103;
vs. social values, 100 -101
Rational-choice model:
description of, 11 , 27 -34;
and benefits from asymmetrical bargaining, 325 -328;
vs. real-life behavior, 98
Raw materials, 255
Realism, 7 , 9
Reallocation, policy of, 121 -131;
for rural areas, 121 -122;
for subregions, 124 -125, 128 -131
Reciprocal demand intensity:
in bargaining model, 161 -166 passim,180 , 182 -186;
in bargaining at the state level, 167 , 171 -172;
and restraints on impatience, 332
Recruitment policies:
Africanization of, 121 , 308 ;
in colonial bureaucracy, 54 ;
in colonial police and army, 56 -57
Reformist policies:
of nonalignment and pan-Africanism, 133 -134;
of reallocation, 121 -131;
in reorganization strategy, 118 , 120 -134;
for rural development, 121 -122, 125 ;
and Western decision-makers, 21
Regional economic planning, 197 -200;
and economic cooperation, 204 -209;
and cartels 209 -220;
to regulate foreign investment, 206
Regional integration:
via the East African Community, 233 , 234 -241;
to expand economic alternatives, 332 -333;
and federations, 227 -233
Renninger, John P., 334
Reorganization strategy, 118 -134;
to cope with scarcity, 309 -310, 311 -316;
crisis of legitimacy in, 315 -316;
economic growth as basis in, 118 -120, 312 -313;
foreign policy of, 133 -134;
liberal and progressive orientations in, 313 -316;
nationalization in, 131 -133;
reallocative policies in, 121 -131;
reformism in, 118 , 120 -134 passim;
sacrifices of, 322 -323
Reserves:
in Africa, 292 -293;
international, 294 -295
Resources. See Institutional resources, changing; Scarcity of resources
Revenue allocation, in Nigeria, 125 , 128 -131
Rhodesia, 58 , 198 ;
declaration of independence of, 122
Rhodesian rebellion:
and OAU, 248 -249;
role of Tanzania in, 140 -141
Roan consolidated Mines, 132
Robson, Peter, 188 , 198n ;
on Sene-Gambia Union, 200 -201;
on net distributions, 202
Root method, 19
Rose, Richard, 15
Rosenau, James N., 95n
Rothchild, Donald, 5n , 231n ;
on adapted institutions, 62n ;
on ethnic unequalities, 66n ;
on federalism, 225n ;
on reciprocity in colonial administrations, 48n ;
on resource allocation, 14 , 46 n
Royal African Company, 152
Rubber, in Liberia, 171 , 172
Rural development:
economic assistance for, 297 ;
in Ghana, 123 -125;
in Zambia, 121 -122
Rwanda: conflict with Burundi;
income per capita in, 135 ;
poverty of, 144
S
Sanger. Clyde, 66n
Sanwi secessionist movement, 71
Saudi Arabia, 157 , 217
Scanning approach, 333 -334
Scarcity of resources, 10 ;
capabilities imbalance resulting from, 37 -38, 303 ;
and comprehensive planning, 304 ;
and constraints on meeting demands, 17 -18, 302 -303;
effects of on policy process, 24 -25, 27 , 303 -304;
inefficient utilization, and, 69 ;
and quality of policy-making, 23 -24
Scarcity of resources, coping with, 305 -335;
by decision processes, 305 -323;
via implementation of public policies, 324 -335;
policy options for, 142 -146;
and ranking of system goals, 319 -323;
strategies of choice for, 112 -142, 309 -323
Schmitter, Philippe C., 221n on policy externalization, 262n
Seko, Mobutu Sese, 67 ;
on nationalization, 131 ;
on replacement of foreigners, 121
Senegal:
elections in, 68 ;
and unification with Gambia, 200 -201, 203
Senghor, Leopold:
opinion of the Yaoundé concept, 254 -255;
preferences of, 67 -68;
for a "primary federation," 227
Senteza-Kajubi, W., 238
Sharkansky, Ira:
on disproportionate taxation, 14 , 15n ;
on policy-makers, 101n
Shell-BP, 131 , 170
Shoup, Carl, on Liberian tax system, 281 -282
Sierra Leone:
foreign investment in, 158 ;
interethnic conflict in, 45 -46;
merchant associations in, 59 ;
trade of, 198
Simon, Herbert A., 99n
Single-party system, 82 -85, 89 ;
"democratic" principles in, 308 ;
reasons for, 70 , 303 ;
and trade unions, 84 , 85
Skinner, Elliott P.:
on capabilities imbalance, 303 ;
on executive councils, 58
Sklar, Richard, on approach to social change, 8 -9
"Social balance," definition of, 29
Social equity, 315
Social Science Research Council, 93
Social values, vs. rational choice-making, 100 -101.
See also Values
Socialism:
vs. capitalism in the Third World, 137 -138;
in Ethiopia, 102 ;
in Tanzania, 137 , 140 ;
in transformation strategy, 317 -320
Somalia:
income per capita in, 135 ;
national agencies in, 308n ;
pov-
erty of, 144 ;
transformation strategy of, 135
South Africa:
attitudes of OAU toward, 244 , 249 ;
boycott of, 133 -134, 249 ;
cattle from Botswana purchased by, 284 ;
customs union of with Botswana, 285 ;
as lender to Botswana, 283 ;
and territorial integrity, 95
Soviet Union, 18 ;
foreign aid policy of, 277 ;
planning in, 26 ;
resources of, 23
Specialization, based on comparative advantage, 188 , 190 , 193 , 198
Stabex payouts, to ACP countries, 258 , 259
State:
self-determination of, 92 , 94 ;
system-development problems of, 93 -94;
system goals formulated by, 92 -98
State interests:
and bargaining, 166 -171;
in the EAC, 235 , 236 , 238 ;
vs. regional federations, 227 -231
Statistical data, 16
Strategies of choice, 112 -142, 309 -323;
accommodation, 115 -118;
comparisons of, 141 -142, 319 -322;
to cope with scarcity, 142 -146, 309 -323;
reorganization, 118 -134;
trade-offs in, 141 ;
transformation, 134 -141.
See also Accommodation strategy; Reorganization strategy; Transformation strategy
Student demonstrations:
and conflict control, 75 ;
in Ivory Coast, 85
Subramaniam, V., 54n
Subregions, reallocation policies for, 124 -125, 128 -131
Sudan:
in ACP, 257 ;
in colonial period, 45 ;
federal experimentation in, 78 , 80 -81;
and OAU, 248 ;
poverty of, 144
Sudan, Peoples Regional Assembly of, 80
Sugar, price of, 260 , 261
Sunday Times of Zambia,75
Supranationalism:
of the Casablanca powers, 241 ;
vs. development at the state level, 232 ;
in the East African Community, 234 -235
Sutton, J.E.G., 43n
Svendsen, Knud Erik, 93
Swaziland, 286
System credibility, 72 -74
System goals:
decision rules for, 105 -112;
and decision-making factors, 98 -105;
determination of relative to trade-offs, 321 -323;
formulation of by the state, 92 -98;
list of, 93 -94, 97 , 114 , 302 ;
and problem-solving, 302 ;
strategies of choice for, 92 , 112 -142.
T
Tandon, Yashpal, 248 -249
Tanganyika African National Union, 83 -84
Tanzania, 94 , 238 ;
colonialism in, 52 ;
conflict of with Uganda, 223 , 236 , 237 ;
and the distributable pool system, 232 ;
income per capita in, 135 ;
economic innovations in, 86 -87;
external economic assistance to, 270n ;
goal priorities in, 319 -320;
and Gambia, 203 ;
and Kampala agreement, 176 ;
one-party structure in, 82 -83;
parliamentary bodies in, 66 ;
poverty of, 144 ;
productivity in, 138 ;
technology in, 69 ;
trade of, 137 , 198 , 211 ;
transformation strategy of, 135 , 136 -141
Tanzanian African National Union, 137
Tariffs:
of EEC, 252 ;
common external, 193 -197;
and expanding net benefits, 189 -197;
at the Yaoundé convention
Tax system:
in Botswana, 289 -290;
in decision-making model, 32 , 33 ;
distributive outcomes of, 108 -109;
in EAC, 232 , 235 , after independence, 64 ;
in Liberia, 281 -282;
for multinational companies, 165 -166;
and national unity, 53 ;
in Nigeria, 125 , 128 ;
for tropical imports, 251 , 254
Tea, 216
Technical and economic assistance:
in bargaining model, 326 ;
problems of, 270 -271
Technology:
in colonial period, 46 , 47 ;
and nationalism, 152 -161;
restrictions on importation of, 68 -69;
transfer of, 159 -160, 177
Telli, Diallo:
on efficacy of OAU, 241 , 245 n ;
as officer in OAU, 247 ;
on pan-Africanism, 241
Territorial identity:
of a state, 93 , 97 ;
threats to in Africa, 94 , 95
Teso tribe, 42
Tetela tribe, 52
Tettegah, John K., 85
Thiam, Doudou, 277
Third World countries:
advantages and disadvantages of foreign investment in, 132 , 158 -160;
attitudes of on foreign aid, 274 , 276 -279;
capitalism vs. socialism in, 137 -138;
external control of, 95 -96;
inexpedient technology in, 69 ;
limited application of policy analysis to, 15 -23;
maximalist implementation strategy in, 224 ;
and monetary reform, 293 ;
norms and values of, 6 ;
opportunity of to export finished products, 296 -297;
policy harmonization for bargaining by, 334 ;
policy-planning structures in, 18 -19;
political economy and policy choice in, 3 -34;
and relations with industrialized states, 179 -180;
transferring colonial institutions in, 39 -40
Thompson, W. Scott, 241 -242
Togo:
economy in, 116 -117, 196 ;
tourism in, 117
Tolbert, President of Liberia, 244
Tombalbaye, Francois, 242
Tonga, in ACP, 257
Touré, Ahmed Sékou, 59 :
on economic growth and social equity, 318 -319;
and Marxism, 135 -136;
and single-party structures, 70
Trade:
bargaining for concessions in, 173 ;
imbalances in East Africa, 232 ;
and economic integration, 198 -199, 204 -209;
unions, 59 , 84 , 85
Trade creation, 189 , 191 -197
Trade diversion, 189 -191, 201 ;
benefits of, 197 ;
operation of, 189 -191
Trade expansion, 189 , 191 , 195 -197
Trade relations:
between ACP and EEC, 255 -261;
between Africa and the EEC, 210 -215;
and African dependency, 261 -262;
between EAC and EEC, 253 -255;
between Nigeria and the EEC, 252 -253;
arranged at the Yaoundé convention, 251 -252;
of Zambia and Tanzania with the EEC, 136 -137
Trades Union Congress, in Ghana, 85
Transformation, and policy analysts, 7 , 8 -9
Transformation strategy, 134 -141;
capitalism rejected by, 316 -317;
to cope with scarcity, 309 -310, 316 -322;
performance crisis of, 320 ;
policy of toward multinational companies, 161 ;
reasons for variances in policy-making styles in, 136 -137;
social equality in, 139 ;
social self-reliance in, 139 , 317 -320;
state controls in, 317 ;
states using, 135
Traoré, Moussa, 116
Treaty of Accession, for ACP Group, 255 -256
Treaty for East African Cooperation (1967), 223 ;
purpose and methods of, 232 ;
strains caused by, 327 ;
structure of, 234 -236, 237
Trinidad, 257
Tullock, Gordon:
on bargaining process, 48 ;
on decision rules, 107n ;
on goals set by states, 92n
U
Uasin Gishu Masai tribe, 42
Uganda, 94 ;
conflict of with Tanzania, 223 , 236 , 237 , and distributable pool system, 232 ;
and EACM, 203 ;
electoral process in,
81 -82, 308 ;
and federalism, 71 , 231 ;
income per capita in, 135 ;
interethnic conflict in, 45 -46;
and Kampala agreement, 176 ;
military coup of (1971) in, 223 , 236 -238;
parliamentary bodies in, 66 textile industry in, 175 ;
trade of, 198
Uganda People's Congress Constitution, 67
Ujamaa Villages:
as an economic innovation, 89 , 308 ;
in Kenya, 139 ;
in Tanzania, 86 -87
Unanimity rule, 108
Underdevelopment, defined, 97
Unemployment, and imported technologies, 69
Union douaniére et économique de l'Afrique centrale,203
Union Miniére du Haut-Katanga,159
Union of South Africa, 117 . See also South Africa
United Kingdom:
as lender to Botswana, 283 ;
as lender to Zambia, 282 .
See also Britian
United National Independence Party, 74
United Nations, 144 , adequacy of aid programs, 270 ;
agencies for aid in, 267 , 273 ;
definition of aid by, 267n ;
and OAU, 243 , 247 .
See also Food and Agriculture Organization
United Nations Conference on Trade and Development (UNCTAD), 176 -179, 279 , 293
United States:
and foreign aid to Africa, 274 , 277 , 297 ;
investments of in middle Africa, 153 , 155 , 156
United States Agency for International Development, 289 -290
Universities, 37 , 49 . See also Student demonstrations
University of Ghana, Legon, viii
Uphoff, Norman T., 4 ;
on comparative analysis, 11 ;
on political exchange, 38 -39
Upper Nile Provinces, 80
Upper Volta, 45 -46;
income per capita in, 135 ;
executive council in, 58 ;
after independence, 115 ;
poverty of, 144
Urafike Textile Mill, 69
Urban vs. rural development, 121 -122
USAID program, 267 , 297
Uwechue, Ralph, 80
V
Values:
and colonial institutions, 65 -66, 308 ;
impact of on decision-making, 100 -101
Villages, cooperative. See Ujamma Villages
Vorster, John, 244
W
Wade, Larry L., viii , 10n , 98n ;
and bargaining model, 33n , 161n ;
and institutions, 12n ;
on tasks of government, 10
Waiyaki, Munyua, 238
Wandesforde-Smith, Geoffrey, viii
Waterston, Albert, 111
Welch, Claude, viii , 54 -55
Were, Gideon S., on tribal raids, 42n , 43n
West Africa:
federation of, 232 ;
inter-trade in, 197 ;
Sahelian area of, 96 ;
urbanization and trade in, 42
West African Economic Community (ECOWAS), formation of, 265
West Germany, and Tasmania, 141
Western Samoa, 257
Westminster model, 62
Wheare, K.C., model of coordinate governments by, 226
Wholesaling companies, 52
Wildavsky, Aaron:
on decision rules, 110 ;
on modernization, 95
Working class, 22
World Bank, study of copper prices by, 215 -216
World Bank Group, 273 , 279 , 282
World Bureau of Metal Statistics, 219
World Health Organization, 273 , 293
World Intellectual Property Organization
Y
Yaoundé associates:
in ACP, 257 ;
disappointments of at second convention, 254 -255;
and Nigeria's agreement with EEC, 250 ;
trade relations of, 210 -211
Yaoundé conventions:
agreement of (1963), 250 , 251 -252;
agreement of (1969), 254 -255
Yewlett, C.J.L., 330 -331
Yoruba tribe, 41 , 44
Yugoslavia, 282
Z
Zaire, 41 ;
and Chad, 203 ;
copper exportation of, 211 , 214 -216;
interethnic conflict in, 45 -46;
nationalization in economy of, 131 ;
reorganization strategy in, 118 ;
replacement of foreigners in, 121
Zambia, 41 ;
accommodation strategy in, 117 -118;
banks of, 167 ;
budgetary choices of, 110 ;
closed conflict strategy of, 74 -75;
copper vs. agriculture in, 136 -137;
copper exports of, 211 , 214 -216;
economic growth in, 119 ;
external debt of, 279 -280, 282 -283;
interethnic conflict in, 45 -46;
mining industry in, 132 , 167 -168;
nationalization of economy in, 131 -132, 136 , 167 -168;
one-party structure in, 82 -83;
referendum of June (1969) in, 73 ;
reorganization strategy of, 118 , 136 ;
resource redistribution in, 14 , 121 -122;
rural development in, 121 -123;
Western economic enterprises in, 46 ;
trade of, 136 , 137 , 238 ;
university students in, 74 , 75 -76.
See also Kaunda, Kenneth
Zammit, J. Ann, 178 -179
Zande people, 56
Zartmen, I. William, 251
"Zemetcha" program, in Ethiopia, 102
Zolberg, Aristide, 63
Preferred Citation: Rothchild, Donald, and Robert L. Curry Jr. Scarcity, Choice and Public Policy in Middle Africa. Berkeley: University of California Press, c1978. http://ark.cdlib.org/ark:/13030/ft9p3009f9/