Demand for Modern Family Planning in Tanzania: reflections and some evidence from three Regions: by I.S.L. Sembajwe, Institute of Resource Assessment, University of Dar es Salaam, 1981.

This research report was written in 1981 and is based on a survey carried out between November, 1979 and May, 1981 in 11 villages in Morogoro, Kilimanjaro and Mara Regions involving a sample of 773 women. This 19 page research report, which includes 10 statistical tables, sets out to examine whether there is in fact a demand for modern methods of family planning in Tanzania.

From the information obtained by means of answers to questionnaires, it seems clear that socio-economic conditions play a considerable part in determining the desired family size. In Kilimanjaro Region, where a larger proportion of women had received formal education and where there was a higher overall household income, the desired number of children was between 4 and 6, whereas in Mara and Morogoro Regions, where family income was much lower, the figure was an average of 7 to 8. It would, therefore, appear that the higher the standard of living, the greater the likelihood there is of the breakdown of the traditional socio-economic system and a change in the traditional attitudes towards family size.

One of the interesting pieces of information that emerged from this survey is the difference in the level of fertility among a sample of women in the three different areas. In Kilimanjaro the desired family size was generally achieved, or even exceeded, whereas in the poorer areas there seem to be certain factors which inhibit the desired number of children. These factors are discussed in some detail and the conclusion is reached that the most important reason for low fertility is probably pregnancy-wastage- miscarriages and abortions – due to the social, economic and environmental conditions in which people live. The high proportion of childless women in the villages of Mara and Morogoro Regions included in the sample- 21.6% and 33.5%, compared with 4.45% in Kilimanjaro Region- may also be attributed to the same poor socio-economic conditions.

The report also touches on the sensitive issue of the need for pre-marital contraceptive advice and emphasises the double standard which applies (in other countries also!) to attitudes towards pre-marital sex. In view of the breakdown in tribal customs, especially initiation ceremonies, it is felt that one priority of the Maternal and Child Health Family Planning programme should be a programme of sex education, including a knowledge of modern contraceptive methods.

But the main conclusion of this report is that greater emphasis should be given in the family planning programme to the positive side of the work, to enable families to achieve the desired number of children, as this will have beneficial socio-economic consequences, which in turn will increase the demand for modern methods of family planning. It has, however, to be remembered that the treatment of infertility requires a great deal of skilled medical competence and laboratory equipment, which may not be easy to obtain. Perhaps the solution of this problem lies not only with the Family Planning Association of Tanzania (UMATI) and the Maternal and Child Health Services, but also with those who are trying to improve the general social and economic conditions of the country.

Julia M. Carter

Summons: Poems from Tanzania: coordinated by Richard S. Mabala: Tanzania Publishing House, Dar es Salaam, 1980.

In the last poem of this collection of Tanzanian verse, Eric Shikujua Ng’amaryo suggests in his last three lines that-

One is tempted to
Step aside
And judge things more soberly.

After a reading of all these poems from the beginning to the end and from the end to the beginning, it must be said that those of the fourteen contributors who have fallen to this temptation have far and away fared the best as poets. These Tanzanian verses for the most part have not found the voice with which to express, in a centred kind of way, their feelings of impotence about the continuing revolution in this cruel world.

We want to cry,
wail out in anguish,
For we feel so impotent,

writes O. Kibuta.

Blindly he hit me,
Eyes closed,
Releasing the squashed anger within his breast,
Muttering oaths against the world,

writes Richard Mabala of a wife being beaten. It is not infrequently that this awkward phrase ‘squashed anger’ seeks resolution in words. And who, so many ask, is to blame for the world being so cruel, for ‘unheeded tears’ leading to suicide (Freeman Lwamba), for the loneliness of being-

A lone tree
Standing in a vast expanse of indifference?

Here we are with a lost, lone and impossible to swallow phrasing:

I have to urgently
Incantate your magic name
In order to balm my corroding self,

wherein our friend Bric Shikujua, alas, has not fallen into his own temptation ‘to step aside’ before writing. Indeed, it is for the reader to cry ‘to the barber with your verses’, for, like Bottom, they are marvellously hairy. And should this anthology be read in schools by the ‘cadres of the future’, as the preface by Richard Mabala hopes, may there be someone at hand to speak of the sweet economy of language, so that these unknown persons may at least hesitate when confronted by the ‘inmagnanimity of man’, where husbands are

Ruthless owls, engorging the blood of weakened rats,

where-

The whole world is a marshy field
That may suck me down,

and where-

Thinking is prohibited,

to take a selection from several poems. We are back with Chairman Mao and are reminded by Richard Mabala of his doctrine that the aims of art are properly for ‘popularisation’ and the ‘raising of standards’. Thus, when Mao writes harmlessly-

On our tiny globe
A few flies smash into the walls,
They buzz, some loudly complaining, others weeping,

the official commentary would have us understand that the world is ‘tiny’ in the eyes of the revolutionary, who is capable of changing it by his actions. The walls are said to be those of true Marxism-Leninism, against which the flies of ‘imperialism’ hurl themselves in vain.

In all art one searches for coherence and truth, which implies an unforced interpretation of experience and not writing for effect. But there are coherent moments in the collection and some of Mabala’s longer poems preserve a Mao-like consistency of metaphor. Even Wordsworth found it hard to express the thoughts of inarticulate peasants, but to stir them ‘to intone our song’, as does Sengendo Mvungi, ‘to the staccato of machine guns’ is indeed to put thoughts into their heads that might cause them to question whether they really wish to be revolutionaries. ‘Our aim’, writes Mabala in the preface, is ‘to provide a spark’, but it is questionable whether the Tanzanian ‘quiet peasant’ will prove particularly responsive ‘powder’ and will rise up against the ‘dinosaur’, that globe-trotting politician and his richly endowed Ministry, on these terms.

Nevertheless, among the coherent moments in the collection is a poem by Eric Shikujua entitled ‘One Fine Morning’ that, as far as one can tell, does not have any overt political connotation. It is about a bee imprisoned in a stuffy room and urgently wishing to escape to the freedom of the air and sunshine he sees through the window,

Before I finish myself here
And join the corpses of my fellows
Down there, on the sill.

Hugh Dinwiddy

Contextual Perspectives on Geographical Thought: Gillman of Tanganyika (1882-1946) by Dr. B.C. Hoyle: Discussion Paper no.19, Department of Geography, University of Southampton, 1983: 25pp.: 75p.

This short paper is intended to be the forerunner of a major study of Clement Gillman’s life and work. Engineer, cosmopolitan, explorer and practical geographer par excellence, Gillman’s 40 years of scientific exploration and practical administration span the whole period of the modern development of Tanganyika to the end of World War Two. He was particularly associated with railway development, but his pervasive interests in hydrology and environmental issues placed him in the front rank of those who both contributed to and drew intellectual support from the newly developing field of academic geography.

Anyone with an interest in modern developmental problems in the Third World is bound to admire and value the considerable achievements of such a pioneer geographer. It is a tribute to Brian Hoyle’s enthusiasm and perception that he should have chosen to write so well and so carefully about such a figure. In his own writing he shows the same qualities which he attributes to Gillman, i.e., ‘meticulous observation’ and ‘accurate recording of facts’ as well as a capacity to enliven these facts with comment and intelligent interpretation. We should all look forward to the fuller and no doubt definitive work which will follow. It is perhaps appropriate to conclude this short note with Brian Hoyle’s own summary at the end of his paper on Gillman himself:

‘He was clearly a man of strongly-held and forcefully-expressed opinions, a man who was widely admired, but whom some must have found a constant source of irritation; a man whose agnosticism set him apart from many in his community; and whose internationalism received a cool reception during the rampant nationalism of the two World Wars. Yet in the last analysis he was a man of tremendous drive and enthusiasm, of vast experience and wise counsel, and a pioneer to whom all concerned with modern development planning in East Africa today owe a considerable debt.’

Paul Fordham

(1) see ‘The Informal Sector and Peripheral Capitalism’ by Manfred Bienefeld: Institute of Development Studies Bulletin 6.3

Bwana Myombekere na Bibi Bugonoka na Ntulanalwo na Bulihwali: by Aniceti Kitereza: (completed on 13th. February, 1945): pp.617: Tanzania Publishing House, Dar es Salaam, 1980: hard cover shs.115, paper back in two volumes, shs.35 each.

When Mzee Aniceti Kitereza died on 20th. April, 1981, at the age of 85, few people in Tanzania and fewer still outside Tanzania had ever heard of him. The local media did not even mention the incident. He had lived and died an ordinary man. On the surface his life had been no different from that of hundreds of other German educated contemporaries. He had been a teacher, catechist, petty trader, building clerk, cooperative officer and finally, in his old age, peasant.

Yet this apparent ‘ordinariness’ was deceptive. The practical matter-of-fact worker was also the passionate thinker, educator, philosopher and scholar. He was a walking encyclopaedia of the ways and customs of the Bakerebe and, above all, a lively, unique, confident and highly talented novelist.

Kitereza probably hardly realised what an inestimable ‘offspring’ he has bequeathed mankind in the form of his 618 page, two volume novel, Bwana Myombekere na Bibi Bugonoka na Ntulanalwo na Bulihwali (henceforth Bwana Myombekere na Bibi Bugonoka…).

In his long life, Kitereza had more than his rightful share of life’s tragedies. In many ways the tragic streak in his life is paralleled in the lives of his major characters, Bwana Myombekere and his wife Bibi Bugonoka. They, like Kitereza, are obsessed by a desire for offspring. It is true that they do get two children. But the first child is prematurely stillborn and the second child, also born prematurely, lives for only one day. Thereafter Bugonoka has no more pregnancies and as a result becomes increasingly despised and alienated from her husband’s relatives. Only Myombekere loves and tolerates her, all the while struggling to find a cure for her ‘barrenness’.

Matters reach a head when Bugonoka’s parents, Namwero and his wife Nkwanzi, hearing of their daughter’s maltreatment, decide to take her back, leaving Myombekere without a wife. Thus to the shame of barrenness (for a shame it is in this pre-colonial Kerebe society) is added that of bachelorhood and the accompanying loneliness and distress. Myombekere has to decide whether to marry another woman, or to bring back Bugonoka. His half-hearted attempts to woo another woman prove futile. He ends up prostrating again before the father-in-law, begging for forgiveness and the return of his wife.

Thus begins the story of the adventures of this unhappy Kerebe family that is supposed to have lived sometime in the seventeenth or eighteenth century. It revolves around the twin poles of production and reproduction, creation and procreation. Through production, within the framework of his clan, his village, his kingdom and the accompanying traditions, beliefs, customs and taboos, Kerebe man produces wealth in order to build his eka (or Kaya, or household) and hence realise his humanity and his manhood. This he can achieve by interacting and cooperating with fellow humans, obeying the common law, not daring to go beyond the limits sanctioned by society in whatever he does.

Society in turn protects and helps him to realise his possibilities, to build his eka. Man is not only a social animal, he is the working animal; he is not so much homo sapiens as he is homo faber.

Yet work, labour, is only one leg of the myombekere (the means and conditions of building and consolidating the eka). In order for the household to stand on its two feet, production ought to be accompanied by reproduction. For man is both the agency and the purpose of the myombekere. Man builds for man, the older generation builds for the younger generation, the old ones wither away so that the young ones may flower. By their death, they achieve immortality through the lives of their living offsprings for generations to come. Hence, Myombekere’s kinsmen tell him:

“Wewe ni ndugu yetu, sasa unakubali kweli kukaa na mke wako huyu akiwa mgumba hivi, uzuri wako huu wote uishie chini! Hivi wewe unadhani kufufuka kwa watu hapa duniani ni nini? Si kuzaana kuacha mbegu yako ikiwa hai ndiyo maendeleo ya ukoo wetu?”

(You are our kinsman. Are you really willing to live with this wife of yours, barren as she is, and let all your fine character be buried with you! What, indeed, do you take the resurrection of the dead in this world to mean? Isn’t bearing children and leaving behind your living seed the way to perpetuate our clan?)

The purpose of labour is to build the eka, the purpose of marriage is to consolidate that eka by supplying it with offsprings who will both protect and perpetuate the eka and, through the eka, the clan and ultimately the species. Hence the need for interaction and exchange, both human and material, between different eka, different clans.

And this is where lies the central problem of this story, for Myombekere and Bugonoka fail to get children. Without children, what basis is there for him and Bugonoka to remain united in marriage? Can love alone sustain marriage in a society where offsprings come before everything else, where barrenness is a social stigma? More seriously, can Myombekere and Bugonoka build their eka without offsprings? How, and what for? Can life have any meaning without children?

A modern reader, living in a highly competitive urbanised society, schooled in the best traditions of family planning, may see these issues differently. Indeed, he might consider barrenness a non-tragedy, if not a blessing in disguise. But not so the Kerebe peasant society in this novel, for whom abundance of manpower is the precondition for material abundance, security of life and, indeed, survival itself. Hence, Myombekere must get back his wife and, what’s more, get her to conceive and bear living children.

Detailed descriptions of his endeavours to this end take up the best part of Volume 1. They include successive trips to his in-laws to retrieve his wife, his efforts to get the fine (which includes six pots of banana beer) to pay for her return, his perennial search for a muganga who can cure his and his wife’s barrenness and finally, the treatment itself and how his struggles are eventually crowned with some success.

Volume 2 begins with the birth of Myombekere’s son, Ntulanalwo. He survives, but at great cost to his parents, for he is constantly in need of medicaments, protective charms, close care and attention. As one misfortune after another assails him, we are reminded that (Obunaku) bugonoka – misfortune comes unexpectedly, without warning. It has befallen the family through Bugonoka’s failure to have children. Now, misfortune’s twin brother, death, seems to be bent on wiping out the family. The reader cannot but feel, like Myombekere, that (Olufu) ntulanalwo (I always live with death). It is only after he is transferred to his maternal grandfather’s that Ntulanalwo begins to enjoy some health.

While wondering whether their sorrow and suffering will ever come to an end, Myombekere and Bugonoka are blessed with another child, this time a daughter. In sceptical optimism, they name her Bulihwali (when will sorrow end in this world?) hoping that their sorrow would now cease. Life for them now begins to have some meaning.

The rest of Volume 2 is really the story of Ntulanalwo and Bulihwali – how they grew up, married, had numerous offsprings and, after the death of their parents, became quite prosperous. The story ends with their death.

The story is of course much richer than the above skeleton may lead one to believe. It is not only confined to the lives of Myombekere and Bugonoka and their children, but deals rather with the life of the Kerebe society of the time, seen through the life, actions, problems and aspirations of the family of Myombekere. Myombekere represents Kerebe manhood just as Bugonoka represents Kerebe womanhood. Their quest is the perennial quest of their society; for they are expressing and enacting the dominant values of that society. As their lives unfold before us, we are gradually introduced to a tapestry of the Kerebe world – the culture, customs, beliefs, practices, human relations, productive activities; the geographical environment, the flora and fauna, the months and the seasons; the sciences, the oral literature, the arts and crafts.
The story takes place against a background of the rich flora and fauna that is the feature of the island of Ukerewe. This land, situated in Lake Victoria some few miles from Mwanza, is a beautiful, evergreen island, very fertile, heavily populated and potentially very wealthy. Its forests and grasslands had, until early this century, plenty of useful trees and wild animals, which were hunted for their meat and fur. The trees were felled for house building and boat construction (Ntulanalwo is in fact a great hunter and carver of canoes).

Along the extensive coastline fishing is a regular preoccupation of some men, so is the hunting of hippopotamuses. Indeed the life and culture of the Bakerebe as depicted in this book is to a large extent based on fishing and agriculture. The lake is the second shamba to the Bakerebe, its products supplement their agricultural diet. Its waters form a natural highway in addition to serving most domestic needs. No wonder the lake looms large in this novel, and numerous types of fish are mentioned and their properties minutely described.

Beyond the coastline agriculture is predominant. All typical tropical crops – cassava, millet, bananas, beans, sweet potatoes, etc. grow effortlessly. The wealthier families have in addition some cattle from which they get milk, meat and manure. Cultivating is sometimes done individually and sometimes collectively (obuyobe). There is enough land for everybody and apparently everybody except the omukama (king) and the aristocrats works, or is expected to work. This is precolonial Kerebe land and society as it was and is depicted in Bwana Myombekere na Bibi Bugonoka. It is an apparently healthy, peaceful, hard working society. True, it is superstitious and technologically not much developed, but it is far from being savage or primitive – as many anthropological works on pre-colonial Africa have led us to believe. While not defending its shortcomings, Kitereza, like Achebe (in Things Fall Apart) reasserts the values and achievements of his people.

This novel is, in short, a mine of ethnographical, historical and scientific information about precolonial Bukerebe and its people. Yet it is not history, nor is it strictly speaking a historical novel. All the characters are imaginary, all the incidents fictitious. There is no mention of the reigning kings, or appraisal of their historically known actions. There is very little about the political feuds and upheavals that characterised the Kerebe Kingdom in the 18th. and 19th. centuries. All this is beyond Kitereza’s intentions. His primary objective is to preserve the language, customs, practices and cultural traditions of the Bakerebe, seen from the point of view of the ordinary eighteenth century Kerebe, for the benefit of future generations. Bwana Myombekere na Bugonoka na Ntulanalwo na Bulihwali is primarily and deliberately a cultural novel.

It is not autobiographical, although anyone familiar with Kitereza’s own life cannot fail to see parallels between his personal problems and those of his protagonist, Myombekere. Like Myombekere, he lost all his children in childhood, yet, unlike Myombekere, he never tried to look for another wife and apparently never went to consult the traditional waganga. Kitereza, born at the crossroads between the past era and the present (colonial) era, is satisfied with merely serving as a bridge between the two eras, revealing the past to the youth of today, without much praise or censure, while personally remaining staunchly modern and progressive in outlook and in practice.

This novel is a great work indeed, not only because of its wealth of cultural information, but because Kitereza has put his whole personality, linguistic and artistic talent, knowledge, experience and meticulous care into its execution. This is much more obvious in the original unpublished Kerebe version. In the present Swahili translation something of the original is inevitably lost. One hopes that the Kerebe original will also one day find a publisher.

In the meantime, this work remains a classic of Swahili literature. It is the longest Swahili novel ever published, the most racy and the richest culturally. Without question it establishes Kitereza as a leading Swahili – nay, African novelist and the first and last one of his kind. For as there was only one Homer, one Shakespeare and one Tutuola, there can be only one Kitereza. Kitereza represents his age and generation and these two can never come back.

Bwana Myombekere na Bibi Bugonoka is not only Kitereza’s masterpiece, it is his eka. His eka is his book, in which he placed his whole talent and aspirations. It is his only child, his only wealth (at the time of his death he was living a very poor man in a single room hut built for him by the Kangunguli Ujamaa villagers). His greatest desire, as he admitted to the present author, was to see his book in print before his death. How tragic that even this small wish never materialised, for he died while the advance copies of his novel were awaiting collection at the post office in Dar es Salaam.

M.M. Nulokozi
Institute of Kiswahili Research
University of Dar es Salaam

References:
Kitereza, A., “How Men and Women came to Live Together” (Edited and introduced by Charlotte and Gerald Hartwig): Natural History LXXIX (1970) pp.9-20.
Hartwig, G.W. and Charlotte M., “Aniceti Kitereza: a Kerebe Novelist”: Research in African Literature, Vol.3, No.3, (1972) pp.162-170.
J. Roger Carter, “Aniceti Kitereza- the Story of a Tanzanian Writer”: Bulletin of Tanzanian Affairs, No.14, January 1982.

‘Tanzania- A Political Economy’: Andrew Coulson, Clarendon Press, 1982. £6-95 (paper).

Tanzania currently suffers from many shortages, but it has been studied and written about in abundance. Much has been published about aspects of Tanzania’s history, politics and economic development, but it is not easy to obtain, or always comprehensible. Andrew Coulson has drawn together the writings of the past decade to produce a comprehensive and highly readable account of the development of modern Tanzania. Its scope and clarity give it a strong claim to be the standard work on the country, which has long been needed and as such it will have considerable influence and its interpretations could become a generation’s judgment on Tanzania.

As Coulson makes clear in his first chapter, he is writing on two levels, an introductory outline of the country and an analysis of the ‘underlying, historically determined economic position.’ The story of the creation and development of Tanzania is interwoven with a rigorous comparison of official policy and actual performance, that some readers will feel to be so unrelentingly critical of both colonial and independent governments as to verge on the destructive.

The first third of the book is ‘the story of the incorporation of this land area and these people into the ‘World capitalist system’. The failure to resist or deal with the consequences of this are seen as the root cause ‘of Tanzania’s current problems. Prior to colonisation, the tribal societies were probably better fed than today’s population, crafts were developing and there was considerable internal trade. These achievements had been assisted by imported innovations, but were reversed by colonial conquest and the associated destruction and epidemics. The skills which had been evolved to survive in the harsh environment were lost as a new economic pattern was established, the production of crops for sale and labouring on plantations providing for European industry.

The subsequent efforts by successive governments to revive peasant agriculture have been characterised by assumptions of peasant idleness and ignorance, whereas they have proved themselves enterprising and efficient on the occasions when they have been given clear incentives. The colonial powers also prevented the establishment of industry, which might have been developed, based on the exploitable minerals and the processing of crops. Both the official attitude to the peasants and the belief that the country could not support viable industry were largely inherited by the nationalists after independence.

Colonisation also brought a fundamentally different concept of education. Coulson gives a brilliant, concise explanation of the devastating impact of western education on traditional society. His denunciation, in highly ideological terms, of mission and government education provision will offend those who were involved or have knowledge of the personal dedication of the teachers and administrators, who struggled in difficult conditions with pathetic resources, but he makes a powerful case.

There is an important reassessment of the achievements of Cameron, whose governorship between the wars has been regarded as crucial in setting the country on the road to eventual independence. Cameron is credited with resisting the aspirations of European settlers and encouraging limited African development, but he did not understand and ignored the damaging influence of Kenya’s more dynamic economy. His commitment to indirect rule could not make it a reality in Tanganyika, where tribes had never become fully formed and many legitimate chiefs had not survived the German conquest.

Despite his criticisms of colonial policies on education and industrialisation, Coulson sees the growth of nationalism as a consequence of education and the expansion of towns. He has a sympathetic note on Martin Kayamba, whose African Association established for the educated elite became the basis on which TANU was organised, although there is an implied criticism that TANU ought to have evolved from Eric Fiah’s African Welfare and Commercial Association, which had political aims and claimed to speak for all Africans.

In his assessment of Nyerere, Coulson rejects both the adulatory biographies and those who manage to write about Tanzania without mentioning his name. There is respect for his political skills, which have enabled him to survive, but Nyerere’s vision of agricultural development being achieved through living in villages is considered to be fatally flawed. The total commitment to modernisation theory, the dismissal of traditional forms of agriculture and the adoption of government as the main, perhaps only, provider are identified as the essentially false assumptions of Nyerere’s ideas and policies. This is a criticism of Nyerere’s basic philosophy, not of his failure to ensure the implementation of his policy by unsympathetic subordinates, but it is questionable as a summary of Nyerere’s thinking, which ignores his appeal to traditional values in ‘Ujamaa- the basis of African Socialism’, his repeated pleas for the use of ox ploughs and good thatch rather than tractors and corrugated iron sheets and the self-reliance objective of the Arusha Declaration.

It is certainly true that Nyerere did not transform TANU into the instrument of government. Independent trade unions were suppressed and there has been a huge expansion of an authoritarian state requiring the employment of a large bureaucracy divorced from the life and experience of most of the population. The combination of the idea of progress through villages and a bureaucracy distanced from the peasants produced the political and economic damage of the villagisation operation. Villages were required to enable government-supplied social services to continue to expand. Increased production was assumed, but it was never explained how it was to come about. Indeed, peasant production had been growing steadily in the years between independence and the Arusha Declaration. The chapter on ‘Ujamaa and Villagisation’, Coulson’s special interest, is exceptionally good and deserves careful reading and study.

The bureaucracy, the effective ruling class, is held responsible not only for the failures in agricultural and rural development, but also for Tanzania’s general economic stagnation. While drought, oil prices and the world economic recession are by implication difficulties that a developing country must expect to have to deal with, the root cause of Tanzania’s problems is its own ruling class, who ‘are not accumulators, have little experience of industry or large scale agriculture and little faith in small scale agriculture, thinking not in terms of investment, but social services, authoritarian with no tradition of self-criticism’, almost totally unsuited to bringing about economic transformation. Coulson sees parallels between the Tanzanian civil service and the British labour Party and his own argument is almost Thatcherite. High taxation has financed a bureaucracy to staff services such as agricultural extension, which have no appreciable effect, and the parastatals with their poor output and productivity records. The consequence has been no resources for productive investment.

This is a harsh indictment. Coulson does not produce a comprehensive alternative strategy, but he clearly believes that if villagisation had been left to happen voluntarily through small politicised groups and the peasants given reasonable price incentives they could have continued to produce enough food to feed the country and enough export crops to finance a basic industrial strategy. The cost would have been growing rural inequality as larger farmers expanded production by hiring labour and possibly a slower rate of growth of social services.

Inevitably in attempting to cover so much there has to be a great deal of compression, but this is offset by five appendices providing case studies of development. Of these, the one dealing with the Ruvuma Development Association is most welcome. Coulson, in common with many writers, including Rene Dumont, sees the decision to disband the RDA as a watershed, when the Party hierarchy decided that an independent organisation, however committed to socialist development, could not be tolerated. Writings on Tanzania frequently refer to RDA, but this is the first published account of its story.

Coulson will be accused of over-concentration on Tanzania’s failures, underrating its problems and ignoring its achievements and also of using valuable pages to explain his concepts of ‘class’ and ‘state’ in the only boring sections of the book, but his explanation of what is happening in Tanzania depends on understanding the nature of the class which controls the state rather than the number of adult literacy schemes organised, or village water schemes provided.

Professor Cranford Pratt once complained at a meeting of the Britain-Tanzania Society that the problem of trying to understand Tanzania was that the rival factions of commentators never read each other’s work and an author’s allegiance could immediately be identified by the references quoted. Coulson breaks out of this sterile constraint and also provides suggestions for further reading on the subjects of each chapter and a useful bibliography. Little about Tanzania is simple. The words ‘paradox’ and ‘ambiguity’ seem to occur in most chapters and it is possible to value and enjoy Coulson’s book without sharing his despondent conclusion that ‘despite elements in its favour, the contradictions and stagnation of the nineteen seventies are likely to continue’.

John Arnold

‘Development and Religion in Tanzania – Sociological Soundings on a Christian Participation in Rural Transformation’: Jan P. van Bergen, Dar es Salaam, 1981.

This book was written as a result of the Senate of the University of Dar es Salaam granting Mr. van Bergen the status of research associate, a post held until 1976; the subsequent write-up emerged in 1981. The book highlights the Church’s reaction to institutions and programmes which sprang up after independence. There was an initial fear of development being overtaken by communism. This was especially so after the Arusha Declaration. There is also current anxiety about a possible increase in Chinese influence. The involvement of Muslims in various political structures also causes great uneasiness. The government controlled newspapers, the Daily News, the Sunday News and Uhuru, appear to many Christians to be hostile to the original teachings of Christ and what they imply in relation to marriage customs and family life in Africa.

With regard to villagisation, the reaction of the Church has been very mixed. Pastoral considerations have always been in favour of people living together in clusters, because it makes for easier contact with people and parochial activities. The missions with their buildings, plant and plots of land became natural centres for the planning of new villages. However, when villagisation programmes got under way, new settlements were planned far from the traditional church-parish complex. When whole communities were moved, the Church leaders angrily condemned this, because they would be separated from their people and church buildings would become obsolete.

As van Bergen points out, ‘the community concept of Christians differs from that of ujamaa’. The latter is less exclusive. Its focus is different from the Church and does not contain reference to a special religion or faith. Julius Nyerere writes: ‘The Tanzanians themselves have religion, but the community has not. The Sheikh has his religion, the Christian has his faith, the traditionalist has his convictions. But there are also religions which cause unrest and trouble’. The President has held meetings with Party officials, members of the government and religious leaders so that there is a real dialogue and mutual feelings of misunderstanding, if not dispelled, are “freely communicated. The President has also discussed ways in which the clergy could involve themselves in the ujamaa experiment.

At the end of his book, Mr. van Bergen spells out what he thinks is valuable in the struggle for power-sharing, which could be established between the Church and the state and other ideologies, which do not completely complement each other:

The image and ideology of the Churches influence their credibility in proclaiming values and ideas in the field of nation building. This does not mean that the relationships between Church and state are bad or hostile. Neither is it true that the Churches do not try to contribute to the formation of good citizens. The delicate balance in ideology remains because both institutions realise that they need each other. The Party needs the Church because of its influence on the masses, its educated leadership and its financial potential. The Churches need the Party because. in a secular society in which several world views, faiths and religions are present, the political Party is the unifying identity.

Michael Butler

‘Mozambique and Tanzania – Asking the Big Questions: Frances Moore Lappe and Adele Beccar-Varela: IFDP, San Francisco, 1980.

The material for this book, which aims to compare the efforts made by the leaderships in Tanzania and Mozambique to achieve food security, was collected during a summer trip to both countries in 1978. The authors do not mention how long this trip lasted, but they do admit that they were not able to talk to many ordinary Tanzanians and Mozambicans due to shortage of time and language barriers. Their essay is essentially ‘an attempt to define how the leadership in each country defines the development process they are helping to shape’.

The central argument throughout the book is that, although Mozambique and Tanzania both claim to be on a socialist path and the leadership in both countries aims at equity, participation and cooperation, there are sharp contrasts in the methods adopted by each to achieve their socialist goals. The picture painted is of Tanzania’s elitist approach, in which decisions are made ‘top down’ and policies implemented coercively at the expense of aims to mobilise and involve the people. Mozambique, however, due to its experience of the armed struggle against Portuguese colonialism and the peasant and worker mobilisation in the liberated areas, has created more democratic and accountable leadership structures, that are more grass roots based, and its policies seek to gain the active participation of the people.

Whilst the authors admit several times the difficulty in drawing comparisons between a country like Tanzania with 18 years experience of independence and another like Mozambique with only 4 years and with such different histories and physical infrastructures, they say they are only attempting to compare the approaches and priorities of the leaderships in each and not their success records. The authors emphasise that Tanzanian socialism is not of the scientific marxist type, but is based on the moral bedrock of ‘goodwill’ in which the interests of the whole community are put before personal and private interests. Nyerere claims that these principles were embodies in traditional African communities. Mozambique’s socialism, on the other hand, whilst founded in the experience of intense exploitation of the Mozambican people and their life and death struggle to throw off that exploitation, is based on the theory of the class struggle. Hence, Mozambique aims to transform traditional tribal life not conducive to scientific socialism, such as superstition and passive obedience to village elders. The rationale for cooperation and collective solutions to development problems stems not from African tribal traditions, but from practical experience gained in the liberated zones during the armed struggle and scientific socialist ideology.

The book then looks at the practical approaches of the leadership in each country in relation to development, production, leadership style and structures, popular participation, villagisation and attitude to foreign aid. The authors find that Tanzanian leaders define development in organisational terms. The main task of leadership is to create effective organisational structures to implement central government decisions at local level. Mozambican leaders, on the other hand, see the task of transforming the people’s concept of themselves and mobilising the people to participate actively in the new society as the key to the country’s development.

Tanzania comes in for serious criticism when the authors examine leadership and the origin of its authority in each country. They find that in Tanzania the leadership has retained the patriarchal attitude towards the people, who they consider must be led by means of the carrot and the stick ‘for their own good’. Decisions made by the central government are to be implemented at village level by appointed village managers, who as outsiders to the communities they lead can ensure that decisions are implemented in an organised and impartial manner. The authors admit that:

‘because this view of leadership in Tanzania resembles closely what we receive from our own culture, it was hard even to perceive whilst we were there. Only after we had spent some time in Mozambique did we become aware of the possibility of alternative assumptions’.

In Mozambique they found that the leadership saw the people as a source of energy and direction and leaders saw themselves as accountable to the people and to the decisions taken at the 3rd. Congress, of FRELIMO in 1977, which defined the’ leadership structures and the direction of policy. The civil service is controlled by FRELIMO, which since it was restructured in 1978 has now become a broader-based vanguard party. However, the most important characteristic of Mozambiquan leadership is the inbuilt practice of criticism and self-criticism, which is encouraged and practised at all levels. Leaders who abuse their power, or fail to meet their responsibilities, are criticised and if they continue to behave incorrectly they are ousted. The Minister of Agriculture, who failed to give sufficient priority to rural agricultural development, was criticised and subsequently dismissed.

When the authors examine popular participation, they find that in Tanzania there appears to be a ‘top down’ approach, with the authorities at both national and local level identifying problems and local leaders supervising the people in their solution. Mozambique, however, has both upward and downward channels for participation and decision making and their structures rely on local initiative and experimentation, which if successful will be passed on to other communities or groups with similar problems. The selection of Party members and representatives for the local, provincial and national assemblies is done at meetings of people, who put forward suitable candidates, which the Party and local people present at the meeting evaluate politically and finally select. These procedures have resulted in far more peasants, workers and women being selected as leaders. In Tanzania, the author’s impressions are that the vast majority of Party officials work as civil servants and are drawn from the already privileged class of bureaucrats.

On villagisation, the difficulties encountered by the Tanzanian government over the last 14 years in persuading people to move into ujamaa villages are described. In the late 1960’s the government encouraged people to move voluntarily, but progress was so slow that by the 1970’s it had resorted to coercion and consequently many Tanzanian leaders lost faith in cooperative principles. The Mozambican leadership, on the other hand, appear to be prepared gradually to implement their plans for people to form communal villages. As popular participation in the planning and formation of such villages is crucial to their long-term success, the Mozambican government does not intend to take short cuts – an example where lessons bitterly learned in Tanzania are useful to the leadership in Mozambique.

Finally, the authors briefly look at the different attitude in each country to foreign assistance. The role of the ‘cooperante’ (expatriate) in Mozambique is one of assistance in implementing FRELIMO policies, not that of making policies, whereas in Tanzania foreign experts from for example the World Bank have been permitted to design policy, provide their own additional staff, select suitable Regions for their projects and even participate in appointing Tanzanian staff to work on their projects. The authors feel that this heavier reliance on foreign ‘experts’ has had the effect of dampening self-help initiatives and discouraging the willingness of Tanzanians to experiment.’

Whilst I feel that the authors have not been fair to Tanzania in their analysis, perhaps not giving sufficient weight to the different historical circumstances in which the leaders in each country have emerged and not really exploring how the policies work at grass roots level, I think that they have identified some of the most important ways in which the Mozambican leadership is trying to involve its people in building the new independent socialist society. What still stands out in my memory of Mozambique is the accountability of the leadership, the active participation of the people and the control of expatriates like myself. These are the aspects where the authors of this book have found the contrasts between Tanzania and Mozambique are sharpest. Only time will tell if the Mozambican leadership reverts to a more elitist conception of development and to a more bureaucratic and authoritarian mode. This in part will depend on the political quality of the cadres at present in the new socialist schools.

Ruth Carr

The Tanzanian Experience- Education for Liberation and Development: ed. H. Hinzen and V.H. Hundsdorfer: UNESCO Institute for Education, Hamburg, and Evans Brothers Limited, 1979: 266 pages.

This book is a collection of papers written by various educationists. They are mostly Tanzanian scholars and teachers, but the German editors and one or two other expatriate observers have also contributed. Their aim is to present a broad-based case-study of Tanzanian educational reforms in the perspective of lifelong education.

The structure of the book includes sections on the philosophy and purpose of education in Tanzania; the experience of schooling and teacher training; the post-independence non-formal and formal systems of adult education (a section of which includes post-secondary and university programmes); and a short chapter on Tanzanian research in education. Within this framework, the editors have assembled nearly thirty pages, several of which will already be familiar to many people interested in developments in Tanzania. In some senses, therefore, the book may be of limited value to anyone who is seeking up-to-date information and new thoughts about what is happening in the field of Tanzanian education today. The idea for the book was conceived in 1975 – it seems to have been assembled in 1977 and was published in 1979. Does it have contemporary relevance in 1981 – taking into account the speed with which new developments occur?

Well, yes, I think it does – particularly for someone who wants to get a general picture of the ideas and values that inform the various innovations in Tanzanian educational reform. For anybody not familiar with the role of President Nyerere as a writer and teacher, the five papers by him that are included here will surprise and delight. His lucid directness and the lightness and charm with which he develops the most important and profound ideas give this book a core content of high quality.

The rest is fairly uneven, but contains some useful critical assessments of well-known educational programmes, and one or two interesting descriptions of what is (or was) actually taking place at a grass-roots level. It is unfortunate from our contemporary viewpoint that there is hardly anything in this book about the Folk Development Colleges, presumably because their main development and expansion has taken place in the past five years. It would have been of great value to learn more about the way Tanzania is tackling some of its basic social problems – the post-primary school leaver; the world economic recession; the courageous attempt to reorganize social and productive life through rural development and villagization; and what comes after the functional literacy programme.

These are gaps caused by recent developments. What the book does convey, however unevenly and disjointedly, is the flavour, style and excitement of the Tanzanian socialist experiment. This book is clearly about a country that is redefining itself and attempting, as part of the process, to construct a new and relevant approach to education.

Brian Hughes

The Internal Debate: Most of the published comment and debate on Tanzania is produced in Europe and North America and domestic criticism has been limited to that produced by the President himself, the writings of the University based Marxist left and complaints about lost postal orders and examination certificates in the letter pages of the daily press. The verbal criticism expressed in Party meetings, in public meetings with political leaders and at almost any social gathering has not been transferred into print. The publication, in Tanzania, of two very different booklets each critical of either Party policy or Government execution of policy is a welcome development, a sign of a maturing society which is able to distinguish criticism from subversion and accept that not all the causes of the country’s economic difficulties are outside its control.

‘A Preliminary Analysis of the Decline in Tanzanian Cashew Nut Production 1974-79‘: Frank Ellis. University of Dar es Salaam Economic Research Bureau Paper 79.1

Dr. Ellis is one of those all too rare academics who can present the results of their research clearly and briefly. His findings illustrate some of the basic problems facing Tanzania’s planners, the conflict between villagisation as a method of maximising the provision of services and its frequently adverse effects on agricultural production; the failure of crop marketing boards to provide producers with good service or a fair return; and the absence of detailed information on the production methods and problems of key crops.

Cashew nuts were one of the success stories of Tanzanian peasant farmers. With a minimum of Government assistance output increased from 5000 to 145,000 tons in just over 20 years. This expansion was achieved by the peasants of the coastal and southern regions who have been frequently condemned as being lazy and backward. The potential earnings from this export crop could be enhanced if the nuts were processed and packaged wi thin Tanzania. Hence since 1974 ten processing factories have been built with loans from the World Bank and the Bank of Sicily, an apparent example of self-reliant industrial development using local produce to earn foreign exchange. Why then by 1979 was the industry in crisis with production down to 40% of the 1973/4 peak and half the factory capacity unused?

Government officials in the cashew nut areas have made strenuous efforts to reverse the decline in production. The extent of grass cutting under cashew trees (to prevent fires and facilitate collection of the fallen nuts) became a measure of an Area Commissioner’s performance and urban civil servants have been sent out to assist with harvesting but the decline has continued. The official explanations include the familiar accusations of backward peasants refusing to follow advice on agricultural practice on pruning, spacing and thinning, or lazy peasants refusing to clear the ground under their trees and abandoning them to destruction by bush fires (or elephants!).

Dr. Ellis argues that the peasants are acting quite rationally in withdrawing from cashew production, since it has become an uneconomic use of their time as a result of a combination of villagisation, the price level and problems of grading and payment resulting from attempts by the marketing authorities to improve crop quality.

Tanzanian cashew nut production began in the early ’50’s and expanded rapidly, providing an export cash crop for areas which were unsuitable for coffee, cotton or tobacco. The trees could be grown along with traditional food crops and so involved a minimum of risk and the annual clearing could be carried out when annual crops were harvested. The largely Asian small traders provided an efficient marketing system and despite complaints of exploitation they offered prices which encouraged the harvesting and expansion of the crop. Starting in 1962 marketing was taken over increasingly by cooperative societies and a succession of marketing boards, which attempted to introduce quality grading systems. These were thought by the growers to be unfair and were much resented. From the mid-60’s the price of cashew nuts to the producer fell both in terms of general price levels and in relation to alternative crops. Particularly in recent years the national need to stimulate food production has increased the prices for beans and peas which produce a much more rapid return for labour than cashew nuts. This relative price fall was intensified by the increasing proportion of the export price being taken up by marketing costs.

On top of the declining price incentive came the villagisation programme which was conducted with great vigour in the cashew nut producing areas. Villagisation removed the producers from their trees, increasing the time needed for their cultivation and harvesting. This crucially affected the economics of combining cashew nuts with food production. It became an uneconomic use of peasants’ time to make the special journeys required to clear grass under cashew trees and collect the harvest. The attempts by Government officers to force peasants to look after their trees were counterproductive; it was in the peasants’ interest to allow their trees to be killed off by bush fires since they could not then be forced to look after them.

The life cycle of the cashew nut tree, seven years from planting to first fruiting and replacement after 30 or 35 years, suggests that replanting and new planting virtually stopped at the end of the 60’s in response to the falling real price of the crop and that this process was intensified by villagisation despite the efforts of officials to encourage the crop.

Dr. Ellis’ study has done a considerable service by explaining the contradictions in policy, which try to improve peasant living standards by providing village services and yet reduce their cash income, and the damage caused to the economy by the inflexible application of national policy. Villagisation need not have had such disastrous consequences for cashewnut production if the different needs of permanent and annual crops had been recognised and if the minimum of 250 families for a village had not been adhered to so rigorously. Smaller villages, or satellite villages grouped around a central unit, would have reduced travel time to tend cashew trees. Above all, the study demonstrates the futility of attempting to coerce the peasants to accept a policy, which brings them no economic advantage.

Dr. Ellis’ paper should be helpful to policy makers in identifying the problems of rural planning and devising remedies. Readers who have studied Rene Dumont’s book ‘L’Afrique Etranglee’, or the brief summary of it in our issue no.12 of March, 1981, will recognise in this paper much common ground.

John Arnold

‘Honest to my Country’: ‘Candid Scope’: TMP Book Department, Tabora.

This booklet consists of five essays written at the time of the tenth anniversary of the Arusha Declaration in 1977, but only now published together with four of Julius Nyerere’s writings – ‘Let us correct our mistakes’ (first published in Swahili in 1962), ‘Public ownership in Tanzania’, published in February, 1967, after the post-Arusha Declaration nationalisations, ‘Freedom and Development’, presented to the TANU National Executive Committee meeting at Tanga in October, 1961, and ‘The varied paths to socialism’, an address to the University of Cairo in April, 1967.

The production of ‘Honest to my Country’ is an event of some political significance. Written by a Tanzanian and published in Tanzania, it criticises Government and Party policies as being too radical. Nyerere has frequently been attacked for being insufficiently committed to a truly ideological socialism, but criticism from the political centre is something new. Some Tanzanians have welcomed the book, without accepting its arguments, as a demonstration of the reality of political freedom in the country, but for many it articulates their worries and disappointments. A press report claimed that a Dar es Salaam bookshop sold its stock of 700 copies in a few hours.

The author seems to be giving the impression that he is taking a brave stand and making fundamental criticisms, but most of his priorities for change have already been identified by the President; indeed, much of the book is taken up with quotations from Nyerere’s writings in support of the author’s arguments. Most of the other issues are commonly discussed within Tanzania, although it is true that they have rarely until now been written down.

The first essay borrows Nyerere’s title ‘Tujisahihishe’ (let us correct our mistakes) and consists largely of quotations from Nyerere’s writings and speeches, which identify the problems, which Tanzanians can correct for themselves. The author claims that these national self-criticisms show the need for a reappraisal of the methods being used to achieve objectives and the efficiency of national institutions. This section suggests that the author has read a book on management techniques.

The second essay is concerned with what is termed national character and freedom of expression and is probably the most important of the five. Significantly, it is the one which least depends on quotations from Nyerere or other sources. The author describes the fear of ordinary people to speak openly about political matters because of the risks to their personal position, or even of ‘keko’ (detention) and the inhibiting effect which this fear has on initiative. The case is argued for an end to the Prevent1ve Detention Act, a reduction in the powers of the President by dividing the posts of Head of Government and Head of Party and limiting the period of office. The author also calls for the removal of the requirement for the National Executive of the Party to approve candidates for the National Assembly, additional national newspapers which are not subject to Government or Party control and for the meetings of the National Executive Committee of the Party to be in public.

The third and fourth sections are concerned with Party attitudes to private industry and rural development. Neither contains any hard analysis of the causes of Tanzania’s economic problems. The main argument is that the near ritual abuse of private industry and commerce is not justified by Party policy and is harming development. The proposal that the peasants, having been moved into villages, should be allowed to cultivate individually hardly needs arguing, since this had become effective policy at least two years before the book was written.

The final section repeats without acknowledgment many of the criticisms of Tanzanian society, which Nyerere made in ‘The Arusha Declaration- Ten Years After’- the need for more democracy, franker discussion of problems, giving publicity to failures as well as successes and improving the efficiency of parastatal organisations.

The choice of Nyerere’s writings which are included as appendices has been done with considerable care. In particular, Tanzanians should be reminded of ‘Freedom and Development’, which was intended to stand with ‘Socialism and Rural Development’ and ‘Education for Self-Reliance’ as the foundations of the policies of the Arusha Declaration, but which have somehow never received the same attention.

The general impression is of a weak and unsatisfactory book. The criticisms which are made need to be more clearly stated. The author seems to want the status of leader of a responsible pro-Nyerere opposition without really offending anyone. The art of political opposition has to be learned and the author is taking the first tentative steps.

John Arnold

‘Ujamaa Villages in Tanzania- a Bibliography’: Dean E. Mc Henry Jr.: Scandinavian Institute of African Studies, Uppsala, 1981 (ISBN 91-1106-181-8)

We hope that the Bulletin can speak on behalf of all friends and students of Tanzania in recording appreciation of Dean McHenry’s labour of love and of the Scandinavian Institute of African Studies for publishing it. No doubt somebody, somewhere, will find an omission, but for the rest of us its nearly 500 carefully documented entries will provide an invaluable source of guidance and information. We can only say ‘thank you very much’ to Dean McHenry.

John Arnold

Beyond Ujamaa in Tanzania: Underdevelopment and an uncaptured peasantry. Goran Hyden (1980), Heinemann, London, 270pp

This is a most stimulating and challenging book arguing basically that the resilience of the peasant mode of production has resulted in it successfully resisting attempts to ‘modernise’ it, either by capitalism or socialism. Although highly assertive and even repetitive at places Hyden, nonetheless, achieves his aim of analysing underdevelopment outside the commonly accepted notions of capitalist penetration and dependency, arguing that Marxist paradigms are inapplicable to Africa, and not least to Tanzania, for two reasons. Firstly, the peasant mode of production, because of its social logic, resisted capitalist penetration thus rendering this notion an unsatisfactory explanation of underdevelopment, and secondly, the vast majority of African peasants have not been alienated from their means of production (i.e. principally land), thus the development of antagonistic social classes has been lacking. Further, because o f its failure to break down pre-capitalist modes of peasant production, capitalism did not succeed in generating self-sustaining modernisation.

The peasant mode of production has retained its resilience because of its success in satisfying man’s needs within the ‘economy of affection’ which recognises the importance of social structure, ties and obligations within the wider peasant system. As long as the ‘economy of affection’ satisfies needs, and assuming that famine is not a problem, then there is in fact very little incentive for peasants to accept innovations. This therefore means that the peasant mode of production can operate quite independently of state power~ or indeed of any other social class. It is quite capable-a reproducing and subsisting within its own social logic, just as long as peasants retain access to the means by which they can continue to secure their own reproduction, that is the land primarily. The state, therefore, is irrelevant to the needs of the peasant mode as it stands. Conversely, Hyden argues, the state is dependent on the peasantry as food producers and so is obliged, for its own existence, to control and subordinate the peasant sector because “history has demonstrated that the development of modern society is inconceivable without the subordination of the peasantry” (p.16).

Hyden applies this theoretical stance to the evolution of agricultural policies in Tanzania. The resistance of many peasants to colonial attempts to develop agriculture is explained by the resilience of the peasant mode, and Hyden goes on to argue that the same resistance was applied to the attempts by the post-independence state, including the introduction of ujamaa and villagisation. More could have been made of the fact that the post-independence state attempts paid little attention to the results of the earlier colonial attempts. In many ways they followed the same path and consequently received a very similar response of resistance from the peasants. However, although Hyden suggests that in its attempts to control the peasantry the state becomes more authoritarian, he does not really explore fully the methods by which the state attempted to do this. Some are considered, but not deeply enough; for example, Operation Maduka (the establishment of communal village shops), and the conversion of political organisation from a mass party (TANU) to a more selective (and potentially elitist) party (CCM). Other features such as the use of minimum acreage bye-laws and the role of Kivukoni as an ideological college deserve far greater attention than they receive.

The discussion of events of the 1973 to 1976 period are sketchy and assertive. Although Hyden is very correct in pointing out that the introduction of villagisation is a recognition by the state that they had failed to subordinate the peasantry, nothing is gained from blandly asserting that villagisation moved only about five million people and not the ten million people that other observers have suggested. No evidence is offered, and the reader is left wondering whether Hyden’s methodology is simply ‘think of a number between ….’! Perhaps when the 1978 census results are available in some detail, we will have a clearer idea of the number of peasants moved. Until then, this type of uninformed speculation is of little value.

More seriously, Hyden consistently, and correctly, repeats the resource orientation of peasant production, but he ignores the effect of movement on peasants’ micro-environmental knowledge. Micro-environments and resource bases can alter significantly over relatively short distances, and so knowledge built up over many generations in one area may be of little value in an adjacent area of as little as two miles away. Clearly, this can have a significant deleterious effect on food production, an effect that can be considerably made worse by drought, as happened in 1974-75. In addition, on being moved to a new location, peasant priorities were to build houses for shelter etc. at the expense of planting food – after all, the state could be relied on to provide food to prevent famine, but could not be relied on to build shelters. As we know, Tanzania faced a major shortfall of food production at the time, and Hyden surprisingly accepts the view that the drought was the cause. Whilst few would share Lofchie’s extreme view that the drought was irrelevant, analysis would suggest that the effects of villagisation, the uncertainty this created among peasants, and the drought all contributed together to produce the crisis. Hyden’s argument at this point to support the drought school is very flimsy. He shows that National Milling Corporation grain purchases picked up in 1975/76 and 1976/77, a fact he attributes to more favourable weather conditions. Certainly this is part of the story, but so is the fact that peasants were now coming to terms with new micro-environmental conditions, they were now producing surpluses above requirements for the family’s needs after disruption, and they were now re-asserting their former self-confidence. In short, they were once more demonstrating peasant resilience to withstand external threats from the state, a point that Hyden apparently misses.

On a more general level, the reader is left wondering whether peasants have the ‘exit option’ open to them. This is difficult to see in areas where population pressure is great and/or the carrying capacity of the land has reached its upper limit, for example. As land becomes ever more fragmented or indeed lost altogether to particular individuals, then a real threat exists that the peasant will be alienated from his means of production, something that must weaken the resilience of the peasant mode of production. By generalising about peasant modes and not paying special attention to these areas where this may be a problem, Hyden weakens his case.

A major disappointment to the reviewer were the unoriginal proposals for the future development of rural Tanzania – the provision of a range of services supporting modern agriculture and the provision of consumer and capital goods to stimulate the consumer desires of the peasant. Having carefully read Hyden’s argument and found myself in broad sympathy with much of it, the profound disappointment at the end left me with a feeling of “yes, but we’ve seen this before”.

This may be harsh criticism, however, for what is a most stimulating and thought provoking book, and one that is not only worth being read carefully by people interested in Tanzania, but also by people interested in the issue of African development, not only because of Tanzania’s experience but also because of the wider implications of Goran Hyden’s approach.

John Briggs
Department of Geography, University of Glasgow.

Economic Shocks and National Policy Making Tanzania in the 1970’s.
R.H.Green; D.G.Rwegasira and B. Van Arkadie.
Institute of Social Studies. Research Report Series, No. 8. The Hague 1980. 136 pp plus Introduction and statistical Appendix.

Written by two ex-Advisors to the Tanzanian Ministries of Finance and Economic Planning and the current Director of Economic Research and Policy at the Bank of Tanzania, this report illustrates the options and constraints faced by economists advising policymakers in Tanzania. For non-economists the report provides a sourcebook on the technical problems of planning and evaluating development strategies and responding to external shocks such as crop failures, world recession and dramatic changes in the terms of trade. But such readers will not find the book easy to use. it concentrates on the technical story of economic policy in Tanzania with very little by way of general summaries. In addition, the writing is not always elegant, as the following sentence illustrates – “It was the result of an iterative estimation of minimum resource requirements, maximum domestically generatable resources and maximum mobilisable external resources, with estimation carried out sectorally (especially for external resources) as well as globally” (pp l28/l29)

The background against which this book is set is well-known. Tanzania is a poor country – its economy is characterised by subsistence agriculture, it relies on a handful of primary products for its export earnings, and it is dependent on imported manufactures. The hallmark of its development strategy is the intention to create a self-reliant socialism as evidenced by the Arusha Declaration, the leadership code, the creation of nationalised and parastatal institutions, and a commitment to the goals of greater equality, mass access to social services, popular participation in decision-making, and the achievement of national control over the economy.

The book describes the basic dilemma of Tanzanian development strategy as follows. In order to transform the structure of the economy, basic services and industry must be developed. But this demands high initial level of imports. Due to fluctuating harvests, unstable world demand and prices, and the difficulties of raising production, exports of coffee, sisal, cotton etc cannot be: ‘relied upon to pay for imports essential for the development programme. Furthermore, food and other basic consumer imports exhaust part of the precious exchange reserves. Thus, despite the self-reliant philosophy, external borrowing is inevitable because “full compression to import levels sustainable without bridging finance would be very costly economically and politically”. In other words it would hamper development’ and further impoverish the people.

As if this general position was not bad enough, 1973/74 saw the arrival of a series of ‘shocks’ – the effects of drought on Tanzanian food production allied with a rise in grain prices on the international market, and also a fourfold increase in oil prices with consequent secondary increases in shipping and fertilizer costs.

The response of the Tanzanian Government was to accept and adjust to the oil crisis by raising petrol prices. But in order to preserve the development programme and maintain the commitment to equality the government also raised food prices ~o protect rural incomes; raised the wages of the low paid; expanded credit to permit the finance of stocks and work in progress; increased taxes and public industry prices to maintain funds for development projects and also recurrent spending on mass adult education, health services and water supplies.

The inevitable balance of payments gap was to be financed by external borrowing. Because bilateral aid sources are generally not sympathetic to requests for import support, the option was – to take the upper credit tranche from the I.M.F. (together with the conditions attached to this facility) or resort to the international commercial credit market, both of which present a problem for a poor country, particularly one committed to a transition to socialism.

In addition to describing the 1973/74 crisis and Tanzania’s response to it, the report also attempts to evaluate economic policy. In addition to the usual difficulty that the consequences of the pursuit of an alternative policy cannot be known, this presents two major problems. Firstly the report points out that the “micro-efficiency” (technical efficiency) of market mechanisms would perhaps have been higher than the bureaucratic methods actually employed in response to the crisis (they may have involved lower administrative costs, fewer shortages, better distribution and the avoidance of a black market) but that the “macro-efficiency” of measures must also be considered, that is their consistency with the country’s chosen path to development and its commitment to maintain the development effort and to resist the growth of inequality.

Secondly, the success or failure of economic policy is difficult to judge because of the distorting effects of external factors. Thus the coffee boom of 1976/77 brought unplanned benefits, while the 1974 drought, the lag in disbursement of promised foreign aid and the recession in the developed world represented distorting negative factors.

But although a single measure of success or failure is not possible, the report does, with the admitted benefit of hindsight, suggest where mistakes have been made. Thus there is still scope for improving efficiency in agriculture, industry and the public service. Also, it is now realised that a crisis management (exchange control) approach to trade problems was misguided. What has to be admitted is that an export strategy is needed. Although the ‘primary product export’ path to growth had been rejected as outmoded and tainted with colonialism, failure to pay for necessary imports with export earnings will increase dependence on foreign borrowing.

One particular feature of Tanzanian policy which there is widespread interest in evaluating is the villagisation programme. Perhaps ten million people were involved between 1973 and 1976, a period coincident with the food shortages and balance of payments problems described by Green et al. In what might be a carefully worded sentence the report concludes that “villagisation had little negative effect on 1973/74 output, and its subsequent short-term positive impact is probably low and not yet statistically demonstrable”.

Brian Harvey
Sen. Lecturer in Economics, University of Nottingham, Dept.of Adult Education.

TOWARDS SOCIALISM IN TANZANIA
Edited by Bismark Mwansasu & Cranford Pratt

The last issue of the Bulletin carried a review by Terence Ranger of this important collection of papers. We thought that it would also be of interest to have a Tanzanian view so we asked Daniel Mbunda (Director of the Institute of Adult Education) for his comments. He responded with enthusiasm and my apologies to Daniel that we only have space for a very shortened version of his reflections.

The contributors to this book seem to agree that the Tanzanian social phenomenon is novel, unique and evolutionary. They also seem to me to sense the elusive character of the subject but I would like to suggest some of the elements which complicate the analysis and understanding of the situation.

First there is the lack of appropriate terminology. As Pratt clearly says (p.194) most of the social scientists who subjected the Tanzanian phenomenon to analysis and conceptualization were western oriented. However, Bantu way of life is appreciably different from western nations – for instance to translate “ujamaa” as “socialism” falls short of what the term and concept “ujamaa” really means to a Tanzanian. He may be unable to define it, but he appreciates what it is. The word ‘socialism’ does not have a ring of life and sentiments which ‘ujamaa’ has. With all good intention a foreign language cannot sufficiently describe a different culture. This is what I would call a kind of cultural impenetrability. In describing the Tanzanian situation doctrinaire use of such terms as ‘feudal’, ‘capitalist’, ‘bourgeoisie’, ‘proletariat’- what sense do they register in the Tanzanian social scene? Do these terms impose their connotation on the event they describe, or do the events sufficiently fit in these categories? We need to describe the Tanzanian experience in its own terms.

Secondly, in interpreting a social phenomenon statistics may help, but they are not the single/necessary tools to warrant a judgment of success or failure. We cannot draw a valid social conclusion that Tanzania is less or more self-reliant because in a particular year Tanzania happens to have used less or more foreign aid in her projects. Human intentions defy mathematical laws. Nyerere said in ‘Ujamaa – the Basis of African Socialism’ that ujamaa is basically an attitude of the mind.

It is unrealistic to assess the performance of Tanzania with a preconceived ideal of socialism. The Tanzanians should set their standard, their assessment and evaluation. No foreigner can feel and appreciate the sense of ujamaa better than the Tanzanians. Why are the authors of this book so impatient about the pattern of procedure of Tanzania’s road to socialism? Let us hope they are honest seekers of their own model of socialism – they will never get it realised by Tanzanians, I am afraid. Human development and change or acquisition of patterns of behaviour takes time. These authors, at least some of them, would love to see the Second Jerusalem or the millennium appear in their own time. They come to Tanzania with such a naive conception of social change! I have the impression that the authors had not fully appreciated the fact that Tanzania is not building ujamaa from scratch! We are not instituting ujamaa for the first time with the Arusha Declaration. You have to appreciate traditional ujamaa in order to discuss ujamaa after the Arusha Declaration. Ujamaa is a way of life, a combination of systems of values, relationships, and hence a basis for social organisation and patterns of behaviour in the political and economic life.

Most of the papers are strewn with sentences that Tanzanian society is in a state of tension, conflict, contradictions between the bureaucrats and the masses, the party and government, the workers and the peasants and so forth. This situation is, however, portrayed as being abnormal and undesirable. Presumably the desired state would be a classless society with no tensions or contradictions. What society, where on earth has such a phenomenon arisen? Where there is development process tension is inevitable. Such a situation is not unique to Tanzania.

The distinction between the role of the Party and that of the Government does not seem to me to have been fully appreciated by the authors when they discuss the implementation of the villagisation campaign. Mwansasu’s paper clearly establishes the philosophy, the distinct roles and the modus operandi of the two social mechanisms of development. The Party’s modus operandi is by persuasion, exhortation; and the Government’s modus operandi is by force, when necessary even by physical force. Even in the so called ‘most democratic societies’ the arm of the government is not denied the right to use force when it seems necessary to implement a decision it considered in the interest of the majority.

In conclusion, I would say that genuine friends of Tanzania are often frustrated because they do not see their own image in her, while her enemies search for failures to confirm them in their theory that ujamaa has failed even in Tanzania – Tanzania’s failures written large. But Rome was not built in one day.

Daniel Mbunda

Towards Socialism in Tanzania. edited by Bismarck U. Mwansasu and Cranford Pratt, Tanzania Publishing House, Dar es Salaam, 1979, pp. x and 243, available from Third World Publications £5.95.

This book consists of the papers of a conference held in Toronto in April 1976 with some revisions and additions. Three papers discuss the role of the Tanzanian Government and its agencies; three discuss Socialism and rural development. Around these six studies comes a joint introduction by the editors and a concluding paper from each of them. The papers are generally lucidly and effectively written, free of jargon or pretension. For someone like myself who has been out of Tanzania now for ten years, they provide an admirable opportunity for catching up. There is no doubt that this is a book that most members of the Britain-Tanzania Society will want to buy and read.

I have three reservations, however, to my generally good opinion of the book. It is a pity that it has taken three years to appear. This is not, unhappily, an unusually long time after the event given the lassitude of academic publishing, but a book of this sort suffers more than most from such a delay. The writers were able to take cognisance of universal villagisation but they were not able to go far in assessing its consequences.

Then there is the problem of the book’s character as a debate. The publishers tell us that it is ‘written from a wide range of perspectives’; that ‘the viability of Nyerere’s approach is a matter of continuing debate’ among Marxist and non-Marxist scholars and that the book ‘includes vigorous statements from both interpretative schools.’ But this is a little misleading. In his concluding chanter Cranford Pratt lists a number of prominent ‘Marxist Socialist’ commentators on Tanzanian affairs and a number of ‘democratic Socialist’ commentators. Only one of the first list appears in this hook; three of the second. Many of the papers refer to the work of Shivji but he does not contribute; John Saul, who is identified as the most sophisticated of Marxist commentators and who is based in Toronto, does not appear either. In his final chanter Pratt debates with ‘ultra-left’ scholars. I am not certain whether any of the chapters in the hook fall into this category, but it seems doubtful. The result is that in order for the debate to take place ‘ultra-left’ positions have to be summarised by Pratt himself. It is hardly surprising that the book has not concluded the debate, which has been carried on with some vehemence in the pages of the Canadian Journal of African Studies.

Finally, I could not help feeling a little unhappy about the argumentative focus of the book – the focus on whether or not Tanzania is becoming Socialist. I do not dispute that this is an important question – or at least that many important questions are contained within it. But there seems at the moment a prior question about Tanzanian rural development. Certainly it will be important to discover how rural production surpluses are being distributed and amongst whom. What worries me, however, is whether villagisation is going to lead to a surplus at all. This massive feat of social engineering is also a massive gamble: concentrated settlement and block agriculture has never succeeded before in most parts of Tanzania and one would like to know what chance it has of succeeding now. Adolpho Mascarenas’ paper tells us something about the agricultural mistakes made in the process of villagisation. Mascarenas remains optimistic and I, too, since so much depends on the success of the villagisation, hope very much that it succeeds. But I would wish to see some informed discussion of the question of production.

All this meant that I finished the book wanting to know more and to hear more argument and to know what had happened recently. But then that is in its way a compliment to an open-minded, and honest hook.

Terence Ranger

‘African Socialism in Practice : The Tanzanian Experience‘ edited ‘by Andrew Coulson. Published by Spokesmen and obtainable from: The Review of African Political Economy, Bertrand Russell House, Gable Street, Nottingham. Price: £2.95

The debate on the nature of Tanzanian society and the validity of its claim to be developing on socialist lines is largely conducted through the pages of learned journals which are neither easy nor cheap to obtain. As Professor Cranford Pratt explained in his address to the annual meeting of the B.T.S. the Marxist critics and the social-democratic defenders of Julius Nyerere rarely actually engage in face to face debate. Indeed, it seems doubtful if they even read their opponents’ books. The audience reads or hears the criticism or the defence demolished on the basis of evidence to which most of them have no access. The British audience depends on secondhand information or sparse personal experience.

So we should be grateful to Andrew Coulson and Spokesman for producing, at a very reasonable price, this source book for the Marxist criticism of Tanzania’s development and policies.

The first section contains four policy documents, three by Nyerere – ‘The Rational Choice’, ‘Freedom and Development’ and” ‘The Arusha Declaration Ten Years After’ – and the Mwongozo-TANU Guidelines which was originally published in Swahili and has not been readily available in English.

The remainder of the hook consists of fourteen case studies of development projects which describe in detail how plans were implemented and the difficulties encountered. The examples include the creation of an ujamaa village, the Dar es Salaam automated bakery and the management of the Tanzanian Publishing House.

The contributions provide valuable information and they not only make fascinating reading but are a considerable help towards understanding what has actually been happening on the ground in Tanzania over the past ten years, even for those who will not accept the authors’ interpretations of and reasons for events.

The political debate on Tanzania is not simply of academic interest; ideas which gain acceptance eventually shape policy. ‘Tanzania’ has become an idea, an inspiration and an option for other Third World countries. If that idea is destroyed, whether by Marxist philosophy or the dogma of the I.M.F., there will be profound consequences for the future of the Third World.

Friends of Tanzania need the information which this book contains in order to be able to understand and take part in the debate.

‘Tanzania’s Ujamaa Villages’ by Dean McHenry Jr. reviewed in the July, 1979 Newsletter, is obtainable from:
Institute of International Studies
University of California, Berkley, CA 94720, USA. Price: $5.95