Native Administration Research Articles

“Native Courts” and the Limits of the Law in Colonial Sudan: Ambiguity as Strategy

This article offers a way of thinking about colonial-era legal reform that departs from traditional narratives by highlighting the importance of legal ambiguity in state building projects. Following the establishment of “Native Administration” in the Sudan in the early 1920s, the British colonial government conferred expansive judicial and administrative powers on tribal sheikhs andnazirs(chiefs), while at the same time discouraging many attempts to formalize or standardize those powers, preferring instead that they remain informal and undefined. This policy, which I term “strategic ambiguity,” emerged out of a belief that tribal leaders would be more effective if they possessed maximum discretion and judicial flexibility, even though the result was a colonial government woefully ill-informed about much of its own judicial system. These findings point to a way of thinking about colonial-era legal reform in which governmental ignorance was actually productive of sovereignty, and not an obstacle to it.

A Village‐Up View of Sierra Leone's Civil War and Reconstruction: Multilayered and Networked Governance

SummaryIn Sierra Leone, as in most of Africa, states have not only a direct relationship with their citizens as individuals but also a mediated one through rural governance systems that usually pre‐date colonialism and may have greater legitimacy than the central state itself. And these local governance structures generally persisted through the country's collapse and civil war more successfully than the central state did. This report therefore offers a ‘bottom‐up’ review of the post‐war reconstruction of the Sierra Leone state.I have conducted research on these and related questions throughout the country since 1996. For the present study I have supplemented this experience with a qualitative data set based on my own unstructured interviews during 2010–11 in 38 communities in 28 chiefdoms in eight of the 12 districts in the three rural provinces of the country.The impact of the civil war on human security and governance in the rural areas was devastating. Random killings, maiming and rape were widespread; food production as well as formal health and education services collapsed; and local chiefs and other representatives of the state were assassinated when they could be identified by the rebels.Despite (or perhaps because of) the devastating impact of the war on human security, rural communities remained intact. The pre‐war (traditional) leadership structures continued informally to provide whatever degree of governance response was possible. In the chiefdoms I visited, a third of the chiefs remained with their people (even if in hiding) throughout even the most difficult part of the civil war, and most of the rest fled only briefly. During the war chiefs made a major change to include youth and women in their governance practices and this more participatory approach to governance has persisted. Although a large number of chiefs died during the war period, their positions were easily refilled afterward.During the war most communities in the South and East created local Civil Defence Forces (CDF) to defend themselves. Chiefs retained at least some degree of direction over 71 per cent of the CDF forces in the areas I visited, with the consequence that only a third of these CDFs gave trouble to their communities. Because of the abuses that did occur, however, CDF leaders were not able to challenge chiefs for community leadership after the war. In only 19 per cent of our study communities was there any challenge to the return of the traditional chiefs at the end of the war.Despite the restoration of chieftaincy and its general popularity, there are three signs that the government was concerned about its lack of broad responsiveness before the war. First, elected district councils have been brought back. Second, chiefs also have to share their revenues with the Councils, which both find a major problem and source of tension. Third, the Native Administration (NA) courts also are in disarray. In the present day circumstance, most communities are now using the alternative dispute mechanisms created by donors as they are still afraid of the very high fines that the court chairmen used to levy. In addition the magistrates’ courts are more accessible and extended. The consequences of the three changes are that the post‐war chiefs seem to be more moral leaders than authoritative decision‐makers and are much more responsive to their communities.From the perspective of multi‐levelled governance not only was NA changed by the war, but the role of international donors increased significantly as well. Donor impact was notable on Security Sector Reform (SSR), democratisation, decentralisation, and women's rights. And there were many large‐scale international activities for humanitarian relief and development. Nonetheless, these initiatives have strengthened, not threatened, the legitimacy of the state because the army, police and health services have improved and as local citizens do not know how to access the donors directly they tend to credit their activities to various government actors.The consequences of SSR are that the SL Police are much improved coming out of the war. But unlike the SL Army it would be a mistake to say that they have been wholly transformed. Also their presence is still thin. The SLP was still absent or barely present in 29 per cent of the areas I visited. The old ‘tribal police’ are needed but unpaid.The various reforms that have come in the wake of the civil war are incomplete and the institutional boundaries of the newly reconstructed multilayered governance system are unclear. The result is that most of the component parts – chiefs, district councils, native administration and magistrates’ courts, SL and NA Police, are not functioning as well as they might. Not enough attention has been paid to how governance at the ‘periphery’ is to be conducted.

Autoantigen BiP and autoimmune diseases

Immunoglobulin Binding Protein (BiP) is a member of heat shock protein 70 famaily, and is also known as an autoantigen in rheumatoid arthritis (RA) patients. Serum anti-BiP antibody is detected up to 60% of RA patients, and recent reports demonstrated that serum anti-BiP antibody is also detected in systemic lupus erythematosus patients. Notably, anti-citrullinated BiP antibody is revealed as another member of anti-citrullinated protein/peptide antibodies (ACPAs). Since ACPAs are supposed to be closely associated with RA pathogenesis, immune responses to citrullinated BiP could play an important role in RA. Indeed, immunization of citrullinated BiP exacerbated inflammatory arthritis in mice. Moreover, T cell responses to BiP were reported in human RA and mice models. In mice models, native BiP administration induced IL-4 and IL-10 producing CD4(+) T cells and regulated inflammatory arthritis. In this way, immune responses to BiP are various, and dysregulation of the balances between pro-inflammatory and regulatory responses to BiP could lead to the autoimmune responses and diseases.

Tribal Gatherings: Colonial Spectacle, Native Administration and Local Government In Condominium Sudan

Tribal Gatherings: Colonial Spectacle, Native Administration and Local Government In Condominium Sudan

Ndukwana kaMbengwana as an Interlocutor on the History of the Zulu Kingdom, 1897–1903

In the six years from October 1897 to October 1903, Ndukwana kaMbengwana engaged in scores of conversations in numerous different locations with magistrate James Stuart about the history and culture of the nineteenth-century Zulu kingdom. In the 1880s Ndukwana had been a lowranking official in the native administration of Zululand; at an unknown date before late 1900 he seems to have become Stuart's personalindunaor “headman,” to give a common English translation. Stuart's handwritten notes of these conversations, as archived in the James Stuart Collection, come to a total of 65,000 to 70,000 words. As rendered in volume 4 of theJames Stuart Archive, published in 1986, these notes fill 120 printed pages, far more than the testimonies of any other of Stuart's interlocutors except Socwatsha kaPhaphu. From 1900, Ndukwana was also present during many of Stuart's conversations with other individuals.In the editors' preface to volume 4 of theJames Stuart Archive, after drawing attention to the length of Ndukwana's testimony, Colin Webb and I wrote as follows:Since these were the early years of Stuart's collecting career, it is probable that Ndukwana exercised a considerable influence on the presuppositions about Zulu society and history which Stuart took with him into his interviews. No less likely, however, is the reverse possibility that Ndukwana in turn became a repository of much of the testimony he heard while working with Stuart, and that, increasingly over the years, the information which he supplied would have been a fusion of data and traditions from a variety of sources.

Provision of Adequate Water Supply in Benin Province: Local Governments Efforts 1938-1966

This work examines the performance of the local governments in the provision of adequate sources of potable water in their different areas of jurisdiction in the Benin Province. The work covers the four Native Administration areas of Benin, Esan, Afemai and Asaba Divisions, which made up the Benin Province during colonial period. The study reveals the great enthusiasm and determination exhibited by Benin and Esan Divisions in carrying out this responsibility, working in close collaboration with the Public Works Department (P.W.D.), a unit of the provincial administration based in every Division. The same commendation cannot be given to Afemai and Asaba Divisions where much of the hindrances came from inadequate funding and lack of interest on the part of the District Officers, (D.O.) in charge of the Divisions. The main strategy employed by the Native Administrations was the construction of wells and underground water tanks. Only Benin and Esan Divisions provided pipe-borne water in Benin City and Ubiaja respectively during the tenure of the Native Administrations. With the inception of elected councils in 1957, provision of social amenities, including water supply for the rural areas became politicized; only the Divisions that were aligned with the ruling Regional parties were adjudged qualified to enjoy such benefits as the provision of potable water. This trend was prevalent up to 1966. Not much work has been done on this subject by both historians and social scientists-a factor which explains the heavy dependence on archival sources for this study.Lagos Historical Review Vol. 8 2008: pp. 49-63

STEVEN PIERCE. Farmers and the State in Colonial Kano: Land Tenure and the Legal Imagination. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. 2005. Pp. xii, 262. $55.00

After the military conquest of the Sokoto Caliphate in 1903, Frederick Lugard, the governor of Nigeria, quickly established a colonial administration based on his conception of indirect rule, whereby an existing indigenous government would be revived and modernized under the guidance of a handful of British officials. Northern Nigeria was in many ways the perfect setting for Lugard's policy: the Sokoto Caliphate had a well-established system of office holding that managed vast territories and funneled revenue to the center; it had the rudiments of the rule of law under the application of Shari'a; it has a vibrant intellectual life that produced scholarship and literature in both Arabic and Hausa; and it had a thriving economy that linked Northern Nigeria to the wider continental market of West and North Africa. By rights of conquest as defined by Lugard, the British took over the lands belonging to the emir and all the taxes derived from it. Controlling land revenue promised to fund the native administration without recourse to metropolitan resources. Exactly what claiming all the land meant for British colonialism and for Hausa farmers and office holders lies at the heart of Steven Pierce's book, which sets out to disentangle the “two land tenures” that were superimposed by colonial conquest.

Preserving A Heritage? South African Archive Documentary: 1910-1940

Le documentaire occupait une place aussi importante que la fiction dans la production de l’African Film Productions Ltd., le premier studio Sud-africain. Financés par plusieurs départements de la nouvelle fédération de l’Union Sud-africaine, les documentaires de l’AFP jouèrent un rôle crucial dans le développement d’une nouvelle conception de l’Afrique du Sud entre 1910 et 1940. Ce rôle devient évident quand on place les documentaires de l’AFP dans le contexte de la politique législative de l’Afrique du Sud de l’époque.

Reshuffling an Old Deck of Cards? The politics of local government reform in Sierra Leone

This article examines the relationship between chiefdom authority and decentralization in post-war Sierra Leone. The chieftaincy has been in crisis for some time and is widely thought to be responsible for contributing to rebel Revolutionary United Front (RUF) recruitment. However, chiefs remain an important influence in Sierra Leone, and there is little demand for an end to the chieftaincy system. Rather than an abolition of chieftaincy, governance at local level requires constructive relationships between chiefdoms and local governments and not simply a reshuffling of agrarian class relationships or old ways of doing politics. This in turn requires a reform of the chieftaincy system and the resolution of local political tensions arising from decentralization. CHIEFTAINCY IS AN INTEGRAL PART OF SIERRA LEONE'S governance structure. In rural areas, the chief is a key source of authority and frequently the only visible element of government. Until recently, the main burden of government across most of the country rested with chiefs.' Despite this, the chieftaincy system has been in crisis for some time. In the post-independence period, chiefs became associated with the kleptocratic tendencies of the Freetown elite.2 During the war, paramount chiefs along with the other Paul Jackson (p.b.jackson@bham.ac.uk) is Director of the Department of International Development, University of Birmingham, and Director of the Global Facilitation Network for Security Sector Reform. This work is based on extensive work in Sierra Leone at local government level in 2003, 2004, and 2005 for DFID and the World Bank where he worked as part of the reform process across the country and at different levels of government. 1. R. Fanthorpe, 'Neither citizen nor subject? Lumpen agency and the legacy of native administration in Sierra Leone', African Affairs, 100 (2001), pp. 363-86. In most rural areas, the chieftaincy is also closely related to secret societies, an impenetrable but critical element of rural social structure that ensures a broad power base for each chief, reinforcing a predominantly male gerontocracy. 2. See P. Richards, The Political Economy of Internal Conflict in Sierra Leone, Working Paper 21 (Netherlands Institute of International Relations, Conflict Research Unit, 2004); P. Jackson, 'Chiefs, money and politicians: rebuilding local government in Sierra Leone', Public Administration and Development, 25 (2005), pp. 49-58; J. Hanlon, Is the International Community Helping to Recreate the Pre-Conditions for War in Sierra Leone? (Research paper 2005/50, World Institute for Development Economics Research, United Nations Univ., Tokyo, 2005); R. Fanthorpe, A. Jay and V. Kamara, A Review of the Chiefdom Governance Reform Programme, Incorporating An Analysis of Chiefdom Administration in Sierra Leone (Department for International Development DFID, London, 2002).

Custom and the Politics of Sovereignty in South Africa

Four eras of tribal and state formation have marked the modern history of South Africa. The conquest years of the nineteenth century saw the emergence of a colonial state and the reworking of ethnic identities tied to tribal political structures within an imperial context. The 1920s witnessed the rise of segregation and “retribalization” as set out in legislation such as the 1920 Native Affairs Act and the 1927 Native Administration Act. This and other legislation further bureaucraticized state administration of Africans and moved the country towards territorial segregation in what one scholar has described as a system of “decentralized despotism.” 1 In the 1950s, with legislation such as the 1951 Bantu Authorities Act, the third era began with the Bantustan policies of grand apartheid, wherein the former reserves would become sovereign nation-states. Apartheid was many things, but most obviously it was a system of tribalist social engineering and bureaucratic authoritarianism. The fourth era of ethnic and state formation began roughly a decade ago with South Africa’s first democratic elections. The new government inherited colonialtribalstructures,somewelloveracenturyold.Politicianswereacutelyaware that reconstructing the state in the former homelands would be a formidable undertaking. They inherited a weakened economy, diminished state resources, and a host of seemingly intractable problems. Considerable political instability and continued institutional collapse marked the Transkei and other rural areas. Just a few years after the 1994 elections, the government considered calling in the army into parts of the Transkei to restore order, a clear indication of political involution and the tenuousness of their grip on the former homeland. In one part of the former homeland, none other than Chief Matanzima, the former and considerably-hated Bantustan leader, headed a tribal court where people appeared before him as “Transkei citizens,” citizens of a polity that no longer existed. Apartheid, it seems, has had many deaths, some rather more drawn out than others. The situation in Kwa-Zulu/Natal posed acute challenges to the African National Congress. The 1994 political settlement between the ANC and the Inkatha Freedom Party, in which the ANC in effect conceded the ill-begotten IFP victory, also resulted in a recognition—however begrudgingly—of the political salience of tribalism in rural areas of the country. Earlier, in the late 1980s, “traditional” rulers had formed the Congress of Traditional Leaders of South Africa (CONTRELESA). In the 1990s, during the negotiations for a new constitution, CONTRELESA lobbied for an important role of traditional authorities within the new South Africa. More generally, polling seemed to suggest that there existedwidespreadsupportfor“traditionalrulers”intheformerhomelands. 2 Given

Getting savages to fight barbarians: development, security and the colonial present

Development today is a radical and intrusive endeavour. Reflecting the interest of homeland security, it is embarked upon transforming societies as a whole within the global borderland. In attempting to secure the future, however, it is reaching backwards to reconnect and rejuvenate earlier colonial modes of governing the world of peoples. This article is a modest attempt to recover part of this genealogy. The concept of biopolitics is introduced and defined in relation to the differences between developed and underdeveloped species-life. In distinction to the life-supporting technologies associated with mass society, development is a biopolitics of population understood as self-reliant in terms of basic economic and welfare needs. The security function of such a biopolitics is that of bettering self-reliance as a means of defending international society against its enemies: it is the art of getting savages to fight barbarians. To give historic depth to this strategization of power, such a manoeuvre is demonstrated in the relationship between colonial Native Administration and insurgent nationalism. It is then used to provide a critical commentary on the interconnection between development and security, in particular, the relationship between sustainable development and internal conflict that shapes current perceptions of global danger. The conclusion briefly considers the cost of this episodic inheritance: a small part of the world's population consumes and lives beyond its means within the fragile equilibrium of mass society while the larger part is allowed to die chasing the mirage of self-reliance. Rather than addressing these divergent life-chances, the securitization of development is further entrenching them.

Australian anthropologists and World War II

1 The exceptions are Kenneth Eyre Read and H. Ian Hogbin with particular reference to New Guinea (see Read 1947, Hogbin 1951). Work undertaken by Ronald and Catherine Berndt examining army compounds and the condition of Aboriginal labour was not published until 1987. 2 A.R. Radcliffe-Brown attended the BAAS meeting and remained in Australia for the duration of World War I; he was employed as a teacher at Sydney Church of England Grammar School (1915–17), and as Director of Education in Tonga (1918–19). See Maddock 1995. 3 See however Keesing 1945. 4 There is no comprehensive history of Australian anthropology; however, there is a considerable body of work on aspects of Australian anthropology and individual anthropologists in various journals. 5 Elkin was assisted by ‘twenty observers mostly graduates in anthropology’ (Anon. 1941). 6 Elkin to Cleland, 10 November 1943. Elkin Papers, University of Sydney: 157/4/1/23. 7 ANGAU was to put together a team of experts in Native administration: Francis Edgar Williams, government anthropologist in Papua (1922–1943), was seconded to the unit in March 1943. He was killed in a plane accident in May 1943, and thereafter the unit came under the control of ex-patrol officers of the New Guinea service. 8 The Directorate answered directly to the Commander-in-Chief of the Australian military forces, and also had direct access to the Prime Minister and the Minister for External Territories. 9 This booklet contained such racialized information as: ‘The Natives are used to us, as white men; they feel we belong, whereas the Japanese are in every respect strangers. Natives don't like strangers. Therefore their natural inclination is to side with us.’ Or, ‘The native has always looked up to the white man, he admires him because of the marvellous things that white men at large can do—make electric torches, fly in aeroplanes, etc. You may not be marvellous yourself, but he will think you are, merely because you are one of the white race.’ Quoted in Wolfers 1975; see also Powell 1996. 10 Security (Qld) to Director-General Security, 16 July 1942. National Archives of Australia (NAA): MP729/6.29/401/626. 11 Memo to the Minister for the North-West, 16 July 1942. State Records Office Western Australia: ACC993, 592/43. 12 Elkin to Prime Minister, 2 April 1942. NAA: A659, 1942/1/3043. 13 The Murngin are now called Yolgnu (word for person). Thanks to Nic Peterson for providing this information. 14 For the formation of the unit see Walker 1986. 15 Various in NAA: MP742/1, 145/1/136. Stanner was a fastidious man and conscious of his position in the military hierarchy. The young anthropologist K.E. Read, stationed at Katherine, on one occasion forget to salute him (he was in mufti) and was upbraided by Stanner (K.E. Read personal communication, 15 August 1993). A member of the NAOU recalled that Stanner was ‘very bookish. He had a very English accent, spoke meticulously, and dressed carefully. I remember sharing a cabin with Stanner […] on the train from Melbourne to Sydney. I was struck by the opulence and magnificence of his tailored wardrobe…. His uniform was immaculate and he always wore yellow socks.’ Quoted in Walker 1986: 16. 16 London: Christophers. It was slightly revised and republished in 1972 by Melbourne University Press. 17 The Anglican mission body also produced A new deal for Papua, by G.H. Cranswick and I.W. Shevill (Melbourne: FW Chesire, 1949), which recognized the ‘loyal and courageous assistance given by them [New Guineans] to Australian soldiers during the Japanese invasion’ (p. ix). 18 See Powell 2003. Powell argues that there could have been no New Guinea victory without the immense contribution of New Guineans. 19 See Gray 2001, as well as the contributions from Jane Goodale, Ruth Latukefu (Fink), L.R. Hiatt, Jeremy Beckett and J.A. Barnes in this volume.

Egyptian investment in the Sudan: ‘assistance or exploitation?’

The Condominium era of Sudanese history, 1899-1956, provides scholars with a unique opportunity to examine the complexities of nationalist movements. Because of prior Egyptian governance of the region, because Egypt financed and provided most of the military support in the reconquest, and because claims of restoring Egyptian control of the Sudan were useful in deflecting European criticism of British expansion in Africa, Egypt and the United Kingdom would share responsibility for administering the Sudan. However, Egyptian leaders maintained that this 'dual control' was a temporary measure masking their rightful sovereignty over the region. The following study is an examination of the Egyptian nationalist movement's aims and activities in the Sudan. During the inter-war period Egyptian nationalists claimed and sought to further develop a multitude of historic, linguistic, religious, and cultural ties with the Sudan. Strong economic ties, firmly binding Egyptian and Sudanese regions, would be the final piece in a formidable case to be laid before British or international diplomats when the sovereignty issue was addressed. Egypt's elite during the 1930s and 1940s increasingly believed that investment in the Sudan was an essential element in the nationalist cause. This article will determine which fields of investment piqued the greatest Egyptian interest, why such activities ultimately failed, and address the question of whether or not success in a specific field of investment would have furthered the general sovereignty objective of the Egyptian nationalist movement. From the moment the Condominium agreement was signed in 1899, the prospect of increased Egyptian activities, investment or otherwise, seemed dim, as it was clearly apparent that British officials actually ruled the country. British governors-general administered the Sudan under martial law in the first decades of the new regime. Egypt's limited administrative presence was drastically curtailed in the aftermath of the 1924 murder of Sudanese governor-general and Sirdar of the Egyptian army, Sir Lee Stack. Furthermore, in the inter-war period British officials in the Sudan began a policy of 'native administration' that was designed to rely on Sudanese

Neither Citizen Nor Subject? ‘Lumpen’ Agency and the Legacy of Native Administration in Sierra Leone

The recent conflict in Sierra Leone presents a challenge for analysis. Elite elements have not had the prominence predicted by models of ‘warlord’ political economy, but alternative ethnic or religious nationalisms have yet to come forward to fill the lacunae in state governance. Scholarship focusing on ‘lumpen’ or ‘secular sectarian’ agency only serves to emphasize the conflict's apparent detachment from pre‐war patterns of politics and identity. However, it is argued in this article that long‐term exclusionary processes do in fact underlie these agencies. Here, the central issue is localizing processes of rural sociality. This phenomenon has roots in the pre‐colonial era, but it has been greatly exacerbated by regimes of ‘native administration’ originally imposed by British colonialism. In much of Sierra Leone, de facto citizenship remains a privilege for those domiciled in old villages registered for tax collection. Youths, itinerant workers, and other low status individuals inevitably find themselves in attenuating orders of precedence in access to basic rights and properties. The loss of identity implicit in this process no longer finds a compensating movement in modern education and employment. Here is fertile ground for the rapid growth of ‘lumpen’ agency and perhaps much of the chaos and brutality of the subsequent conflict.

Southern Kurdistan under Britain's Mesopotamian Mandate: From Separation to Incorporation, 1920-23

An urgent need emerged in late 1920 for the winding up of the system of divided control between the Foreign, India and War Offices in the Middle East. This was a direct consequence of both the failure of direct British control in the mandated regions such as Mesopotamia, where a bloody rising broke out in mid-1920, and the huge financial cost of the administration and defence of the mandated regions in the Middle East. These two factors were the focus of Britain's press criticisms. Soon these criticisms were carried over into parliamentary debate, in which the entire Mesopotamian policy came under severe attack. The parliamentary debate provided, in Klieman's words, 'the final stimulus' for change in policymaking process and policy direction.' Eventually, the British Cabinet decided on entrusting the Colonial Office - through the newly formed Middle East Department - with the responsibility for policy making and administration, as well as all civil and military expenditure.2 Central to the new changes was the policy of indirect control based on the formation of a native administration under British supervision in Mesopotamia - with a view to ending its huge financial burden on Britain. These changes in both the policy making process and policy direction insofar as they affected the Middle East, had a great impact on the future of Southern Kurdistan (now Iraqi Kurdistan). The analysis of this article is primarily focused on the role of Percy Cox, the new High Commissioner for Mesopotamia, and Winston Churchill, the new Secretary of State for the Colonies, with whom the two contradictory alternatives of the incorporation and the separation of Southern Kurdistan were associated respectively. Crucial to their approaches to the Kurdish situation was Britain's need for a new political formula that would accommodate two important objectives: firstly, the consolidation of the British position in Mesopotamia and

Adjutants, agents, intermediaries: The Native Administration in Dar es Salaam township, 1919–61

(2001). Adjutants, agents, intermediaries: The Native Administration in Dar es Salaam township, 1919–61. Azania: Archaeological Research in Africa: Vol. 36-37, No. 1, pp. 98-118.

Terrific Majesty: The Powers of Shaka Zulu and the Limits of Historical Invention

Acknowledgements Orthographic and Terminological Notes Abbreviations Map Introduction 1. Painted Chests, Academic Body Servants, and Visions of Modern Airlines: Shaka in Contemporary Discourses 2. The Origins of the Image of Shaka 3. The Men Who Would be Shaka: Shaka as a Model for the Natal Native Administration 4.The Establishment of a Living Source of Tradition: James Stuart and the Genius of Shakan Despotism 5. Shaka as Metaphor, Memory, and History in Apartheid South Africa 6.The Government Resembles Tshaka Glossary Notes Bibliography Index

Bureaucracy and Race: Native Administration in South Africa

Bureaucracy and Race: Native Administration in South Africa

Ivan Evans. <italic>Bureaucracy and Race: Native Administration in South Africa</italic>. (Perspectives on Southern Africa, number 53.) Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. 1997. Pp. xiii, 403. $55.00

Ivan Evans. Bureaucracy and Race: Native Administration in South Africa. (Perspectives on Southern Africa, number 53.) Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. 1997. Pp. xiii, 403. $55.00 Get access Evans Ivan. Bureaucracy and Race: Native Administration in South Africa. (Perspectives on Southern Africa, number 53.) Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. 1997. Pp. xiii, 403. $55.00. Clifton Crais Clifton Crais Kenyon College Search for other works by this author on: Oxford Academic Google Scholar The American Historical Review, Volume 103, Issue 5, December 1998, Pages 1666–1667, https://doi.org/10.1086/ahr/103.5.1666 Published: 01 December 1998

Bureaucracy and Race: Native Administration in South Africa

Bureaucracy and Race: Native Administration in South Africa