mperialism, subimperialism and anti-imperialism are all settling into
durable patterns and alignments in Africa – especially South Africa – even
if the continent’s notoriously confusing political discourses sometimes
conceal the collisions and collusions. ‘All Bush wants is Iraqi oil’, the highest-
profile African, Nelson Mandela, charged in January 2003. ‘Their friend
Israel has weapons of mass destruction but because it’s [the USA’s] ally, they
won’t ask the UN to get rid of it .… Bush, who cannot think properly, is
now wanting to plunge the world into a holocaust. If there is a country
which has committed unspeakable atrocities, it is the United States of
Mandela’s remarks were soon echoed at a demonstration of 4,000
people outside the US embassy in Pretoria, by African National Congress
(ANC) secretary-general Kgalema Motlanthe: ‘Because we are endowed
with several rich minerals, if we don’t stop this unilateral action against Iraq
today, tomorrow they will come for us.’
After the fall of Baghdad, Mandela
again condemned Bush: ‘Since the creation of the United Nations there has
not been a World War. Therefore, for anybody, especially the leader of a
superstate, to act outside the UN is something that must be condemned by
everybody who wants peace. For any country to leave the UN and attack an
independent country must be condemned in the strongest terms.’
This was not merely conjunctural anti-war rhetoric. Mandela’s successor
Thabo Mbeki is just as frank when addressing the broader context of impe-
rial power, for example when welcoming dignitaries to the August 2002
Johannesburg World Summit on Sustainable Development: ‘We have all
converged at the Cradle of Humanity to confront the social behaviour that
has pity neither for beautiful nature nor for living human beings. This social
behaviour has produced and entrenches a global system of apartheid.’
Mbeki’s efforts to insert the phrase ‘global apartheid’ in the summit’s final
document failed, due to opposition by US secretary of state Colin Powell,
who in turn was heckled by NGO activists and Third World leaders in the
final plenary session. A year later, in the immediate run-up to the 2003
World Trade Organization (WTO) ministerial meeting in Cancun, Mbeki
even hinted that Third World governments should align themselves with
radical social movements: ‘They may act in ways you and I may not like and
break windows in the street but the message they communicate relates.’
Moreover, in light of Pretoria’s centrality to the new India-Brazil-South
Africa bloc and the G20 group often credited with causing the Cancun
summit’s collapse, the logical impression is that the anti-imperialist move-
ment has an important state ally in Africa.
Unfortunately, these postures can best be understood as ‘talking left,
walking right’, insofar as they veil the underlying dynamics of accumulation,
class struggle and geopolitics. To illustrate, in early 2003, at the same time
as Mandela’s outburst, the ANC government permitted three Iraq-bound
warships to dock and refuel in Durban, and the state-owned weapons manu-
facturer Denel sold $160 million worth of artillery propellants and 326
hand-held laser range finders to the British army, and 125 laser-guidance
sights to the US Marines.
South Africa’s independent left immediately
formed a 300-organization Anti-War Coalition which periodically led
demonstrations of 5,000-20,000 protesters in Johannesburg, Pretoria and
Cape Town. Despite the embarrassment, Pretoria refused the Coalition’s
demands to halt the sales. George W. Bush rewarded Mbeki with an official
visit in July 2003, just as the dust from the Baghdad invasion had settled. ‘Let
us use this visit to impact as best as possible on the consciences of the
American electorate’, the South African Communist Party (SACP) secretary-
general, Blade Nzimande, remarked. ‘It would, we believe, be a mistake to
press for a cancellation of the visit. But it would be equally mistaken to
present the invasion of Iraq as a ‘thing of the past’, as ‘something we’ve put
behind us’, as we now return to bi-national US/SA business as usual.’
But business as usual seemed to prevail. As Johannesburg’s Business Day
editorialized, the ‘abiding impression’ left from Bush’s Pretoria stopover was
‘of a growing, if not intimate trust between himself and president Thabo
Mbeki. The amount of public touching, hugging and backpatting they went
through was well beyond the call of even friendly diplomatic duty.’
Organizing large demonstrations in Pretoria and Cape Town, the Anti-War
Coalition countered: ‘The ANC and SACP claim to be marching against the
war … while hosting the chief warmonger, George Bush. The ANC’s public
relations strategy around the war directly contradicts their actions, which are
pro-war and which have contributed to the deaths of thousands of Iraqi civil-
Public relations finally caught up to realpolitik, as Mandela, too, recanted
his criticism of Bush in May 2004, because ‘It is not good to remain in tension
with the most powerful state.’
A month later, Mbeki joined the G8 summit
in Sea Island, Georgia, along with Africa’s other main pro-Western rulers:
Abdelaziz Bouteflika of Algeria, John Kufuor of Ghana, Olusegun Obasanjo
of Nigeria, Abdoulaye Wade of Senegal and Yoweri Museveni of Uganda.
Treated only to a lunch meeting which began late and ended early, the
Africans promised the G8 to help unblock the multilateral ‘logjam’ that
emerged at the Cancun WTO summit. The next day, Mbeki was in
Washington for the funeral of Ronald Reagan – a notorious supporter of the
old Pretoria regime, even during the mid-1980s states of emergency – and
justified his presence to National Public Radio: ‘For those of us who were part
of the struggle against apartheid, it was actually during Reagan’s presidency
[that] the US government started dealing with the ANC.’
How can we understand this political inconsistency. How much does it
reflect the requirements of a US-led capitalist empire that uses Africa for
surplus extraction and the spreading and deepening of global neoliberalism,
and that especially relies on South Africa for legitimacy and subimperial
deputy-sheriff support. To answer, consider first the context of modern
imperialism, which in Africa combines an accumulation strategy based on
neoliberalism and the extraction of ever cheaper minerals and cash crops,
with increasing subservience to US-led, indirect, neocolonial rule. The next
step is to locate South Africa’s position as the regional hegemon, identifying
areas where imperialism is facilitated in Africa by the Pretoria-Johannesburg
state-capitalist nexus, in part through Mbeki’s New Partnership for Africa’s
Development (NEPAD) and in part through the logic of private capital.
What does imperialism ‘need’ from Sub-Saharan Africa, whose 650
million people generate just 1 per cent of global GDP. During the twentieth
century, a great organic tradition of anti-imperialist political economy and
radical politics emerged to explain general and specific cases of African subor-
dination and promote revolutionary solutions. More recently, a revival of
commentaries concerning imperialism’s logic has provided at least three
strands of argument that are especially relevant for the purposes of this essay.
First, the transition from post-War prosperity to the neoliberal era, beginning
around 1980, can be traced to problems experienced in maintaining capital
accumulation in the core regions of capitalism. Second, these problems were
managed from the core – especially the Bretton Woods Institutions and the
US state/military – through techniques that amplified uneven development
and threatened Africa’s social and economic reproduction. And third, these
forms of management left the continent and its main political actors at the
beck and call of imperial power, particularly the US state’s, notwithstanding
a variety of multilateral outlets and regional associations.
Recent analyses of the sustained crisis tendencies in global capitalism’s core
regions have shown that the current economic conjuncture follows logically
from a long structural crisis of capitalism characterized by three decades of
lower global GDP growth during a period of persistent ‘overaccumulation’,
untenable speculation and periodic financial collapses, frantic outsourcing of
production across the world, hyperactive trade, the emergence of system-
threatening ecological problems, soaring inequality, and the near-universal
lowering of both labour’s remuneration and the social wage.
In the last
decade, one symptom of global capitalism’s desperation is the extraction of
surpluses from the Third World at an unprecedented rate. Thus, from a situ-
ation of positive net financial flows of more than $40 billion per year to
‘developing economies’ during the mid-1990s, the East Asian crisis was
followed by a $650 billion South-North drain in the four years 1999-2002.
Although Africa is typically given very little attention in contemporary
Marxist accounts of imperialism, there is no question that the continent has
been drawn deeper into global circuits of crisis management through the irre-
sponsible liberalization of trade and finance that, in turn, cheapened the
continent’s products for northern consumption.
While some commodity
prices – for oil, rubber and copper – have risen in recent years, thanks to
Chinese demand, the major coffee, tea and cotton exports many countries
rely upon continue to stagnate or fall.
Debt servicing also grew ever more
onerous, notwithstanding the Bank/IMF ‘Highly Indebted Poor Countries’
(HIPC) relief initiative. From 1980 to 2000, Sub-Saharan Africa’s total
foreign debt soared from $60 billion to $206 billion, and the ratio of debt to
GDP rose from 23 per cent to 66 per cent, leaving Africa repaying $6.2
billion more than it received in new loans in 2000.
Meanwhile, donor aid
was down 40 per cent from 1990 levels, and capital flight exacerbated the
problem of access to hard currency. James Boyce and Léonce Ndikumana
established that a core group of thirty Sub-Saharan African countries, with
a joint foreign debt of $178 billion, suffered a quarter century of capital flight
by elites totalling more than $285 billion, including imputed interest earn-
ings, leaving Sub-Saharan Africa ‘a net creditor vis-à-vis the rest of the
Drawing upon Rosa Luxemburg’s insights into the interactions between
capitalism and non-capitalist aspects of production and social reproduction,
David Harvey has provided a nuanced explanation of how the permanent
process of primitive accumulation
evolves into what he terms a system of
‘accumulation by dispossession’.
That process is very important for under-
standing contemporary imperialism in Africa. Accumulation by dispossession
intensifies as a result of the onset of capitalist crisis and the widespread adop-
tion of neoliberalism, as the system seeks to mitigate and displace (though
never fully resolve) crisis tendencies. Harvey interprets these reactions as
‘spatial and temporal fixes’ for overaccumulated capital, because they also
serve as crisis management tools.
Beyond these processes, the sphere of reproduction – where much prim-
itive accumulation occurs through unequal gender power relations – remains
central to capitalism’s looting. This is especially evident in areas such as
Southern Africa which are characterized by migrant labour flows, largely
through the super-exploitation of rural women in childrearing, healthcare
and eldercare. More broadly, this is part of what Isabella Bakker and Stephen
Gill term ‘the reprivatization of social reproduction’.
For Africans, the
denial of access to food, medicines, energy and even water is the most
extreme result; people who are surplus to capitalism’s labour requirements
find that they must fend for themselves or die. The scrapping of safety nets
in structural adjustment programmes worsens the vulnerability of women,
children, the elderly and disabled people. They are expected to survive with
less social subsidy and greater pressure on the fabric of the family during
economic crisis, which makes women more vulnerable to sexual pressures
and, therefore, HIV/AIDS.
Even in wealthy South Africa an early death for
millions was the outcome of state and employer AIDS policy, with cost-
benefit analyses demonstrating conclusively that keeping most of the
country’s five million HIV-positive people alive through patented medicines
cost more than these people were ‘worth’.
The imposition of neoliberal policies in this spirit has amplified combined
and uneven development in Africa. In macroeconomic terms, the
‘Washington Consensus’ entails trade and financial liberalization, currency
devaluation, lower corporate taxation, export-oriented industrial policy,
austere fiscal policy aimed especially at cutting social spending, and mone-
tarism in central banking (with high real interest rates). In
microdevelopmental terms, neoliberalism implies not only three standard
microeconomic strategies – deregulation of business, flexibilized labour
markets and privatization (or corporatization and commercialization) of state-
owned enterprises – but also the elimination of subsidies, the promotion of
cost-recovery and user fees, the disconnection of basic state services to those
who do not pay, means-testing for social programmes, and reliance upon
market signals as the basis for local development strategies. As Gill has shown,
enforcement is crucial, through both a ‘disciplinary neoliberalism’ entailing
constant surveillance, and a ‘new constitutionalism’ that locks in these poli-
cies in over time.
Leo Panitch and Sam Gindin point to US empire’s management capaci-
ties via the neoconservative petro-military-industrial complex in the Bush
White House and the Pentagon, and the Washington Consensus nexus of the
US Treasury, Bretton Woods Institutions and Wall Street.
While they do
not see this as emanating from the need to displace a structural economic
crisis at home, the Sub-Saharan African case seems, in fact, to demonstrate
both the structurally-rooted need of global capital to extract surpluses, and
the importance of Washington’s political-economic power. However, in a
recent survey, Robert Biel identified two central contradictions in US impe-
rialism vis-à-vis Africa: ‘First, central accumulation always tends to siphon
away the value which could form the basis of state-building, bringing with
it the risk of “state failure”, leading to direct intervention. Second, the inter-
national system becomes increasingly complex, characterized by a range of
new actors and processes and direct penetration of local societies in a way
which bypasses the state-centric dimension.’ Because of the complexity of
indirect rule, and the difficulty of coopting all relevant actors, Biel continues,
‘A reversion to the deployment of pure power is always latent, and the post-
September 11th climate has brought it directly to the fore. This is a
significant weakness of international capitalism.’
Likewise, Panitch and
Gindin argue, ‘An American imperialism that is so blatantly imperialistic risks
losing the very appearance that historically made it plausible and attractive ….
This is especially important. Since the American empire can only rule
through other states, the greatest danger to it is that the states within its orbit
will be rendered illegitimate by virtue of their articulation to the imperium.’
Indeed, one critical area of agreement between most political economists
today is the ongoing relevance of the national state, not only to accumula-
tion via traditional facilitative functions (securing property rights, the
integrity of money, and the monopoly on violence), but also to the ‘coau-
thorship’ of the neoliberal project, in turn reflecting a shift in the balance of
forces within societies and state bureaucracies. South Africa is an excellent
case in point, we shall observe.
In sum, thanks largely to capitalist crisis tendencies and the current orien-
tation to accumulation by dispossession, imperialism can neither deliver the
goods nor successfully repress sustained dissent in Africa, not least in Sub-
Saharan Africa, rife with ‘state failure’ and ‘undisciplined neoliberalism’
(witnessed in repeated IMF riots). The ideological legitimation of ‘free
markets and free politics’ requires renewal, therefore. For this, the US needs
a subimperial partner, even one whose politicians are occasionally as cheeky
as those in Pretoria – and who have become, hence, just as vital for broader
systemic legitimation as Washington’s talk-left, walk-right allies in New
Delhi and Brasilia. After all, anti-imperial critique continues to emerge
throughout Africa, not just rhetorically (as cited at the beginning of this essay)
but also in practical form, as when trade ministers from low-income Africa
– not the G20 or South Africa, India and Brazil – withdrew their support for
a consensus at the WTO’s Seattle and Cancun summits. Thus NEPAD
becomes an especially important surrogate for imperialism, as argued below.
Next, however, we consider the expansion of US geopolitical and military
What are US planners up to in Africa. As one illustration, an expert at the
US Naval War College recently drew up ‘The Pentagon’s New Map’, high-
lighting countries now considered danger zones for imperialism. In Africa,
these included Angola, Burundi, the Democratic Republic of the Congo
(DRC), Rwanda, Somalia and even South Africa, sites which could not only
‘incubate the next generation of global terrorists’, but also host interminable
poverty, disease and routine mass murder.
Benign – or malign – neglect
would no longer be sufficient. The period during the 1990s after the failed
Somali intervention, when Washington’s armchair warriors let Africa slide
out of view, may have come to an end with September 11. Army General
Charles Wald, who controls the Africa Programme of the European
Command, told the BBC in early 2004 that he aims to have five brigades
with 15,000 men working in cooperation with regional partners including
South Africa, Kenya, Nigeria and two others still to be chosen.
Supreme Allied Commander for Europe, General James Jones, confirmed the
US geographical strategy in May 2003: ‘The carrier battle groups of the
future and the expeditionary strike groups of the future may not spend six
months in the Mediterranean Sea but I’ll bet they’ll spend half the time down
the West Coast of Africa.’
Within weeks, 3,000 US troops had been
deployed off the coast of Liberia (and went briefly ashore to stabilize the
country after Charles Taylor departed). Potential US bases were suggested for
Ghana, Senegal and Mali, as well as the North African countries of Algeria,
Morocco and Tunisia.
Another base was occupied by 1,500 US troops in
the small Horn country of Djibouti. Botswana and Mozambique were also
part of the Pentagon’s strategy, and South Africa would remain a crucial
Central and eastern Africa remains a problem area, and not merely because
of traditional French and Belgian neocolonial competition with British and
US interests.
President Clinton’s refusal to cite Rwanda’s situation as formal
genocide in 1994 was an infamous failure of nerve in terms of the emerging
doctrine of ‘humanitarian’ imperialism – in contrast to intervention in the
(white-populated) Balkans. With an estimated three million dead in Central
African wars, partly due to struggles over access to coltan and other mineral
riches, conflicts worsened within the Uganda/Rwanda bloc, vis-à-vis the
revised alliance of Laurent Kabila’s DRC, Zimbabwe, Angola and Namibia.
Only with Kabila’s assassination in 2001 and Pretoria’s management of peace
deals in the DRC and Burundi, did matters settle, however briefly, into a
fragile peace combining neoliberalism with opportunities for minerals
extraction. However, as turmoil resumed in mid-2004, it was clear that coups
and outbreaks of strife would be a constant threat, demonstrating how
precarious Pretoria’s elite deals are when deeper tensions remain unresolved.
Another particularly difficult site is Sudan, where US Delta Force troops have
been sighted in informal operations (although not to protect Darfur from
genocide), perhaps because although China showed some interest in oil
exploration there during the country’s civil war chaos, US oil firms have
subsequently arrived. On the west coast, the major petro prize remains the
Gulf of Guinea. With oil shipment from Africa to Louisiana refineries taking
many fewer weeks than from the Persian Gulf, the world’s shortage of super-
tankers is eased by direct sourcing from West Africa’s offshore oil fields.
In this context, it is not surprising that of $700 million destined to develop
a 75,000-strong UN peace-keeping force in coming years, $480 million is
dedicated to African soldiers.
But Africa is also a site for the recruitment of
private mercenaries, as an estimated 1,500 South Africans – including half of
Mbeki’s own 100 personal security force – joined firms such as South Africa’s
Executive Outcomes and British-based Erinys to provide more than 10 per
cent of the bodyguard services in occupied Iraq.
Some African countries,
including Eritrea, Ethiopia and Rwanda, joined the ‘Coalition of the
Willing’ against Iraq in 2003, although temporary UN Security Council
members Cameroon, Guinea and the Republic of the Congo opposed the
war, in spite of Washington’s bullying. The Central African Republic proved
reliable during the reconciliation of Jacques Chirac and the Bush regime in
March 2004, when Haitian president Jean-Bertrand Aristide was kidnapped
and temporarily dumped there, prior to taking up a cautious residence in
South Africa. Africa is also an important site for Washington’s campaigns
against militant Islamic networks, especially in Algeria and Nigeria in the
north-west, Tanzania and Kenya in the east, and South Africa. Control of
African immigration to the US and Europe is crucial, in part through the
expansion of US-style incarceration via private sector firms like Wackenhut,
which has invested in South African privatized prison management, along
with the notorious Lindela extradition camp for ‘illegal immigrants’, part of
a highly racialized global detention and identification system.
Of course, the US military machine does not roll over Africa entirely
unimpeded. Minor roadblocks have included Pretoria’s rhetorical opposition
to the Iraq war, conflicts within the UN Human Rights Commission (espe-
cially over Zimbabwe), and the controversy over US citizens’ extradition to
the International Criminal Court. On the eve of Bush’s 2003 Africa trip, the
Pentagon announced that it would withdraw $7.6 million worth of military
support to Pretoria because the South African government – along with
thirty-four military allies of Washington (and ninety countries in total) – had
not agreed to give US citizens immunity from prosecution at The Hague’s
new International Criminal Court. Botswana, Uganda, Senegal and Nigeria,
also on Bush’s itinerary, signed blackmail-based immunity deals and retained
US aid.
Competition from other neocolonial sponsors has occasionally been a
factor limiting US arrogance, for example in the only partially successful
attempt by Monsanto to introduce genetically modified (GM) agriculture in
Africa. Zambia, Zimbabwe and Angola have rejected World Food
Programme and US food relief because of fears of future threats to their citi-
zens, and not coincidentally, to European markets. Linking its relatively
centralized aid regime to trade through bilateral regionalism, the European
Union aims to win major Africa-Caribbean-Pacific (ACP) country conces-
sions on investment, competition, trade facilitation, government
procurement, data protection and services, which along with grievances over
agriculture, industry and intellectual property were the basis of ACP with-
drawal from Cancun. The EU’s ‘Economic Partnership Agreements’ (EPAs)
under the Cotonou Agreement (which replaced the Lome Convention) will
signify a new, even harsher regime of ‘reciprocal liberalization’ to replace the
preferential agreements that tied so many African countries to their former
colonial masters via cash-crop exports. If the EPAs are agreed upon by late
2005 and implemented from 2008, as presently scheduled, what meagre
organic African industry and services remained after two decades of structural
adjustment will probably be lost to European scale economies and techno-
logical sophistication. An April 2004 meeting of parliamentarians from East
Africa expressed concern, ‘that the pace of the negotiations has caught our
countries without adequate considerations of the options open to us, or
understanding of their implications, and that we are becoming hostage to the
target dates that have been hastily set without the participation of our respec-
tive parliaments.’ Even Botswana’s neoliberal president Festus Mogae
admitted, ‘We are somewhat apprehensive towards EPAs despite the EU
assurances. We fear that our economies will not be able to withstand the
pressures associated with liberalization.’
But the EU’s substantial aid
carrots and sticks will be the final determinant, overriding democratic consid-
What of Washington’s development aid to Africa. During the early 1990s,
numerous US Agency for International Development mission offices in
Africa were closed by the Clinton Administration. The highest-profile
measures now relate to HIV/AIDS treatment, amounting to what the State
Department called its ‘full-court press’ – including threats of further aid cuts
– against governments which made provisions for generic medicines produc-
tion; something which Clinton only backed away from in late 1999 because
of sustained activist protest.
Bush promised a $15 billion AIDS programme,
then whittled it down to a fraction of that, then refused to provide funds to
the UN Global Fund to Fight AIDS, TB and Malaria, and then prohibited
US government financing of generic medicines. Bush also introduced an
innovative vehicle to fuse neoliberal market conditionality with, supposedly,
greater social investment: the Millennium Challenge Account (MCA). With
USAID budgets still declining in real terms, the delinked MCA funding will
rise from $1 billion in 2004 to $5 billion in 2006, a 100 per cent increase on
2004 spending for all US overseas development assistance. But of seventy-
four ‘low income’ countries that are meant to be eligible, of which
thirty-nine are in Africa, only sixteen passed the first test of governance and
economic freedom in May 2004. Half of these were African: Benin, Cape
Verde, Ghana, Lesotho, Madagascar, Mali, Mozambique and Senegal. The
criteria for funding these countries’ aid programmes have been established by
a series of think tanks and quasi-government agencies: Freedom House (civil
liberties and political rights), the World Bank Institute (accountability, gover-
nance and control of corruption), the IMF and the Heritage Foundation
Index of Economic Freedom (credit ratings, inflation rates, business start-up
times, trade policies and regulatory regimes), and the World Health
Organization and the UN (public expenditure on health and primary educa-
tion, immunization rates and primary school completion rates).
Washington’s attempt to disguise and legitimize imperialism through aid that
carries ‘good governance’ and ‘social investment’ conditionalities dates to the
Clinton era, but under Bush’s MCA it involves more sophisticated discipli-
nary neoliberal surveillance, especially in combination with the World
However, with so few African states receiving MCA funding, and with
so much more at stake than can be handled by the expansion of military
spending, it is vital for Washington to identify reliable allies in Africa to foster
both imperialist geopolitics and neoliberal economics. Does South Africa
qualify. There is much to consider in the hectic activities of Mbeki and his
two main internationally-oriented colleagues – finance minister Trevor
Manuel (chair of the IMF/World Bank Development Committee in 2002-
04) and trade/privatization minister Alec Erwin (the leading candidate to
replace Supachai Panitchpakdi as WTO director-general in 2005 if his health
allows). But the question must be posed: are these men breaking or instead
shining the chains of global apartheid.
During an August 2003 talk to business and social elites at Rhodes House
in Cape Town, Nelson Mandela offered the single most chilling historical
reference possible: ‘I am sure that Cecil John Rhodes would have given his
approval to this effort to make the South African economy of the early 21st
century appropriate and fit for its time.’
Indeed, in Rhodes’ spirit,
Mandela’s less honourable foreign policy intentions were difficult to disguise.
Although South Africa can claim one intervention worthy of its human rights
rhetoric – leadership of the 1997 movement to ban landmines (and hence a
major mine-clearing role for South African businesses which had helped lay
the mines in the first place) – Mandela’s government sold arms to govern-
ments which practised mass domestic violence, such as Algeria, Colombia,
Peru and Turkey; recognized the Myanmar military junta as a legitimate
government in 1994; gave the country’s highest official award to Indonesian
dictator Suharto three months before his 1998 demise (in the process
extracting $25 million in donations for the ANC); and invaded neighbouring
Lesotho in 1998, at great social and political cost, mainly so as to secure
Johannesburg’s water supply. The latter incident was, according to veteran
foreign policy scholar Peter Vale, ‘rash – a rashness born, perhaps, of the
power of mimicry and sanctioned by the new world order discourses, a call
to policy action encouraged by an ensemble of new controlling values.’
Once the South African government had shown its willingness to put self-
interest above principles, the international political power centres placed
increasing trust in Mandela, Mbeki, Manuel and Erwin, giving them insider
access to many international elite forums. As global-establishment institutions
came under attack and attempted to reinvent themselves with a dose of New
South African legitimacy (such as Mandela’s 1998 caressing of the IMF
during the East Asian crisis, and of Clinton during the Lewinsky scandal),
Pretoria’s leading politicians were allowed, during the late 1990s, to preside
over the UN Security Council, the board of governors of the IMF and Bank,
the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development, the
Commonwealth, the World Commission on Dams and many other impor-
tant global and continental bodies. Simultaneously taking Third World
leadership, Pretoria also headed the Non-Aligned Movement, the
Organization of African Unity and the Southern African Development
Community. Then, during a frenetic two-year period beginning in
September 2001, Mbeki and his colleagues hosted, led, or played instru-
mental roles at the following dozen major international conferences or
events: the World Conference Against Racism in Durban (September 2001);
the launch of NEPAD in Abuja, Nigeria (October 2001); the Doha, Qatar
ministerial summit of the World Trade Organization (November 2001); the
UN’s Financing for Development conference in Monterrey, Mexico (March
2002); the G8 summits in Genoa, Italy (July 2001) and Kananaskis, Canada
(June 2002); the African Union launch in Durban (July 2002); the World
Summit on Sustainable Development (WSSD) in Johannesburg (August-
September 2002); the Davos World Economic Forum (January 2003); the
Evian G8 Summit (June 2003); George W. Bush’s first trip to Africa (July
2003); the Cancun WTO ministerial (September 2003); and the World
Bank/IMF annual meeting in Dubai (September 2003).
However, virtually nothing was actually accomplished through these
opportunities. At the UN racism conference, Mbeki colluded with the EU
to reject the demand of NGOs and African leaders for slavery/colo-
nialism/apartheid reparations. By all accounts, NEPAD provided merely a
homegrown version of the Washington Consensus. At Doha, Erwin split the
African delegation so as to prevent a repeat of the denial of consensus that
had foiled the Seattle ministerial in December 1999. In Monterrey, Manuel
was summit co-leader (with Michel Camdessus and disgraced Mexican ex-
president Ernesto Zedillo), but his role was merely to legitimize ongoing
IMF/WB strategies, including debt relief gimmicks. From Kananaskis,
Mbeki departed with only an additional $1 billion commitment for Africa
(aside from funds already pledged at Monterrey). The African Union
supported both NEPAD and the repressive Zimbabwean regime of president
Robert Mugabe. At the Johannesburg WSSD, Mbeki undermined UN
democratic procedure, facilitated the privatization of nature, and did nothing
to address the plight of the world‘s poor majority. In Davos, global elites
ignored Africa and from Evian, Mbeki returned with nothing. For hosting
a leg of Bush’s Africa trip, Mbeki became the US ‘point man’ on Zimbabwe
(as Bush pronounced), and avoided any conflict over Iraq. In Cancun, the
collapse of trade negotiations left Erwin ‘disappointed’, because he and his
G20 colleagues hoped for a deal, no matter how contrary it would be to
ACP country interests. At Dubai, with Manuel leading the Development
Committee, there was no Bretton Woods democratization, no new debt
relief and no ‘Post-Washington’ policy reform. This was evident in March
2004 when a new IMF managing director was chosen, amidst Third World
elite consternation about the job’s reserved ‘European-only’ designation.
Nothing else, aside from the peace-keeping funding and a minor extension
of the ineffectual HIPC, was provided at Sea Island, while in contrast, Iraq
won debt cancellation worth $87 billion.
There is insufficient space to recount here details of Mbeki’s consistent
In sum, however, Pretoria’s failures left South Africa slotted into
place as a subimperial partner of Washington and the EU. Although such a
relationship dates to the apartheid era, the ongoing recolonization of Africa
– in political, military and ideological terms – and the reproduction of
neoliberalism together require a strategy along the lines of NEPAD.
From the late 1990s, Mbeki had embarked upon an ‘African Renaissance’
branding exercise, which he endowed with poignant poetics but not much
else. By 2001, Mbeki managed to sign on as partners for NEPAD’s first draft,
the ‘Millennium Africa Recovery Plan’, two additional rulers from the
crucial North and West of the continent: Bouteflika and Obasanjo. Both
suffered regular mass protests and various civil, military, religious and ethnic
disturbances at home. By early 2001, in Davos, Mbeki made clear whose
interests NEPAD would serve: ‘It is significant that in a sense the first formal
briefing on the progress in developing this programme is taking place at the
World Economic Forum meeting. The success of its implementation would
require the buy in from members of this exciting and vibrant forum!’
International capital would, in theory, benefit from large infrastructure
construction opportunities on the public-private partnership model, priva-
tized state services, ongoing structural adjustment, intensified rule of
international property law and various NEPAD sectoral plans, all coordinated
from a South African office staffed with neoliberals and open to economic
and geopolitical gatekeeping. Once Mbeki’s plan was merged with an infra-
structure-project initiative offered by Wade, it won endorsement at the last
meeting of the Organization of African Unity, in June 2001. (In 2002 the
OAU was transformed into the African Union, and NEPAD serves as its offi-
cial development plan.)
In early 2002, global elites celebrated NEPAD in sites ranging from the
World Economic Forum meeting in New York City to the summit of self-
described ‘progressive’ national leaders (including Blair) who gathered in
Stockholm to forge a global Third Way. Elite eyes were turning to the
world’s ‘scar’ (Blair’s description of Africa), hoping that NEPAD would serve
as a large enough bandaid, for as Institutional Investor magazine reported, the
G8’s ‘misleadingly named’ Africa Action Plan represented merely ‘grudging’
support from the main donors with ‘only an additional $1 billion for debt
relief. (The G8) failed altogether to reduce their domestic agricultural subsi-
dies (which hurt African farm exports) and – most disappointing of all to the
Africans – neglected to provide any further aid to the continent.’
had requested $64 billion in new aid, loans and investments each year, but
South Africa’s Sunday Times reported that ‘the leaders of the world’s richest
nations refused to play ball.’
So on the one hand, within a period of weeks in mid-2002, NEPAD was
endorsed by the inaugural African Union summit, by the WSSD, and by the
UN heads of state summit in New York. On the other, pro-NEPAD lip-
service could not substitute for the missing ‘new constitutionalism’ (to
borrow Gill’s phrase) that would translate into long-term, non-retractable
leverage over the continent. The main reason for doubt about Mbeki’s
commitment to disciplinary neoliberalism and the rule of law was his
repeated defence of the main violator of liberal norms, Mugabe.
Mbeki and Obasanjo termed Zimbabwe’s stolen March 2002 presidential
election ‘legitimate’, and they repeatedly opposed punishment of the
Mugabe regime by the Commonwealth and the UN Human Rights
Commission. The NEPAD secretariat’s Dave Malcomson, responsible for
international liaison and coordination, admitted to a reporter, ‘Wherever we
go, Zimbabwe is thrown at us as the reason why NEPAD’s a joke.’
Nevertheless, NEPAD was still, in mid-2003, considered by the Bush
regime’s main Africa official to be ‘philosophically spot-on’.
Just prior to
the Evian summit, the former International Monetary Fund managing
director Michel Camdessus, subsequently France’s personal G8 representa-
tive to Africa, explained NEPAD’s attraction in the following way: ‘The
African heads of state came to us with the conception that globalization was
not a curse for them, as some had said, but rather the opposite, from which
something positive could be derived …. You can’t believe how much of a
difference this makes.’
There were many observers who, like Manuel Castells, thought that ‘the
end of apartheid in South Africa, and the potential linkage between a demo-
cratic, black majority-ruled South Africa and African countries, at least those
in eastern/southern Africa, allows us to examine the hypothesis of the incor-
poration of Africa into global capitalism under new, more favourable
conditions via the South African connection.’
In reality, the most impor-
tant new factor in that incorporation is the exploitative role of Johannesburg
businesses, especially in the mining, construction, financial services, retail and
tourism sectors.
Those quite substantial investments have been, mainly,
takeovers, not greenfield projects. Indeed, in spite of a high-profile mid-2002
endorsement of NEPAD by 187 individuals and firms, led by Anglo
American, BHP Billiton and Absa, there were no investments made in
twenty key infrastructure projects two years later, only vocal corporate
complaints that NEPAD’s emerging peer-review system had insufficient
‘teeth’ to discipline errant politicians. According to the (pro-NEPAD)
Sunday Times after a disappointing World Economic Forum regional
summit, ‘The private sector’s reluctance to get involved threatens to derail
NEPAD’s ambitions.’
Much is made of Johannesburg-based corporations’
malevolent attitudes and extractive orientation. The prospect that these firms
will be ‘new imperialists’ was of ‘great concern’, according to a leading
member of Mbeki’s cabinet, Jeff Radebe: ‘There are strong perceptions that
many South African companies working elsewhere in Africa come across as
arrogant, disrespectful, aloof and careless in their attitude towards local busi-
ness communities, work seekers and even governments.’
But who, really, is to blame for this power relationship. Ideological
backing for corporate-oriented subimperialism can usually be found within
the South African Institute for International Affairs (SAIIA) at Johannesburg’s
University of the Witwatersrand. Yet because SAIIA heartily supports
Pretoria’s pro-corporate strategy, its writers have the space to speak a certain
kind of realpolitik truth to corporate power. In 2001, a SAIIA researcher
warned that Erwin’s self-serving trade agenda ‘might signify to the Africa
group of countries that South Africa, a prominent leader of the continent,
does not have their best interests at heart.’
In 2003, a colleague issued a
technical report on trade which conceded that African governments viewed
Erwin ‘with some degree of suspicion’ because of his promotion of the
WTO. Indeed, at Seattle and Cancun Erwin stood in direct opposition to the
bulk of the lowest-income countries, whose beleaguered trade ministers were
responsible for derailing both summits.
A few South African journalists have also picked up hostile vibes from the
rest of the continent. In August 2003, the Sunday Times remarked on
Southern African government delegates’ sentiments at a Dar es Salaam
regional summit: ‘Pretoria was “too defensive and protective” in trade nego-
tiations [and] is being accused of offering too much support for domestic
production “such as duty rebates on exports” which is killing off other
economies in the region.’
More generally, according to the same paper,
reporting from the July 2003 African Union meeting in Maputo, Mbeki is
‘viewed by other African leaders as too powerful, and they privately accuse
him of wanting to impose his will on others. In the corridors they call him
the George Bush of Africa, leading the most powerful nation in the neigh-
bourhood and using his financial and military muscle to further his own
Mbeki’s agenda is not that of the majority of Africans or South Africans.
If the largely parasitical – not development-oriented – Johannesburg corpo-
rations profit from NEPAD’s legitimation of neoliberalism and lubrication of
capital flows out of African countries, these flows mainly end up in London,
where Anglo American Corporation, DeBeers, Old Mutual insurance, South
African Breweries and others of South Africa’s largest firms re-listed their
financial (though not operational) headquarters during the late 1990s. And
if Mbeki and his colleagues are benefiting from the high profile provided by
NEPAD and all the other global-managerial functions discussed above, the
real winners are those in Washington and other imperial centres who,
increasingly, require a South African frontman for the ongoing super-
exploitation and militarization of Africa.
The function of Pretoria’s anti-imperialist rhetoric, cited at the outset, is
evident: disguising subimperial practices during an encouraging recent rise of
social movement protest against neoliberalism at home
and across the
African continent.
The African left has expressed deep scepticism about
Mbeki’s main strategies, for example in a hard-hitting resolution from a
conference of the Council for Development and Social Science Research in
Africa and Third World Network-Africa in April 2002,
and in various
independent statements by leading intellectuals and organizations.
Not only
do the left forces nearly uniformly oppose NEPAD, they also openly call for
their finance ministers to default on the illegitimate foreign debt. They advo-
cate not only kicking the World Bank and IMF out of their countries, but
also international strategies for defunding and abolishing the Bretton Woods
institutions. US groups like the Center for Economic Justice and Global
Exchange work with Jubilee South Africa and Brazil’s Movement of the
Landless, amongst others, to promote the ‘World Bank Bonds Boycott’,
asking of their Northern allies: is it ethical for socially-conscious people to
invest in the Bank by buying its bonds (responsible for 80 per cent of the
institution’s resources), and to receive dividends which represent the fruits
of enormous suffering. Other examples of what is being termed ‘deglobal-
ization’ include the successful efforts to deny Trade-Related Intellectual
Property Rights status to AIDS medicines, to keep GMOs out of several
Southern African agricultural markets, and to reject French and British water
privatizers. To these ends, the African Trade Network and the Gender and
Trade Network in Africa put intense pressure on the continent’s delegates
to reject the WTO’s Cancun proposals. And with the US and EU offering
no concessions on matters of great importance to Africa, bilateral or regional
trade deals are also resisted by both civil society groups and African
On a more local level, inspiring examples of what might be termed
‘decommodification’ are underway in Africa, especially South Africa. There,
independent left movements are struggling to turn basic needs into human
rights: free anti-retroviral medicines to fight AIDS and other health services;
free water (50 litres/person/day); free electricity (1 kilowatt hour per person
per day); thorough-going land reform; prohibition on services disconnections
and evictions; free education; and even a ‘Basic Income Grant’, as advocated
by churches and trade unions. The idea is that all basic services should be
provided to all as a human right, and to the degree that it is feasible, financed
through imposition of much higher prices for luxury consumption.
Because the commodification of everything is still under way in South
Africa, this could provide the basis for a unifying agenda for a widescale
movement for fundamental social change, if linked to the demand to ‘rescale’
many political-economic responsibilities that are now handled by embryonic
world-state institutions under the influence of neoliberal US administrations.
The decommodification principle could become an enormous threat to
imperial capitalist interests, in the form of a denial of private intellectual prop-
erty (such as AIDS medicines), resistance to biopiracy, the exclusion of GM
seeds from African agricultural systems, the nationalization of industries and
utilities, or the empowerment of African labour forces. To make any
progress, delinking from the most destructive circuits of global capital will
also be necessary, combining local decommodification strategies and tactics
with the call to close the World Bank, the IMF and the WTO. Beyond that,
the challenge for Africa’s progressive forces, as ever, is to establish the differ-
ence between ‘reformist reforms’ and reforms that advance a ‘non-reformist’
agenda. The latter would include generous social policies stressing decom-
modification, and capital controls and more inward-oriented industrial
strategies allowing democratic control of finance and ultimately of produc-
tion itself. These sorts of reforms would strengthen democratic movements,
directly empower the producers, and, over time, open the door to the
contestation of capitalism itself.
Not only does imperialism stand in the way, however, so do Pretoria’s
various subimperial barriers. Notwithstanding occasionally leftist rhetoric and
the world-historic damage inflicted by US empire, Mbeki and his colleagues
are situating South Africa as the continent’s leading bourgeois-aspirant
country, parallel to what Frantz Fanon so poignantly described as the stunted
‘national bourgeoisie’ of a post-colonial African state, i.e., the modern equiv-
alent of an old Bantustan, where the coopted elite prosper under conditions
of global apartheid:
Content with the role of the Western bourgeoisie’s business agent, it
will play its part without any complexes in a most dignified manner.
But this same lucrative role, this cheap-Jack’s function, this meanness
of outlook and this absence of all ambition symbolize the incapability
of the middle class to fulfill its historic role of bourgeoisie. Here, the
dynamic, pioneer aspect, the characteristics of the inventor and of the
discoverer of new worlds which are found in all national bourgeoisies
are lamentably absent .… In its beginnings, the national bourgeoisie
of the colonial country identifies itself with the decadence of the bour-
geoisie of the West. We need not think that it is jumping ahead; it is
in fact beginning at the end. It is already senile before it has come to
know the petulance, the fearlessness, or the will to succeed of youth.
1 South African Press Association (Sapa), 29 January 2003.
2 Business Day, 20 February 2003.
3 Reuters, 28 June 2003.
4 Thabo Mbeki, ‘Address at the Welcome Ceremony of the WSSD’,
Johannesburg, 25 August 2002.
5 The Straits Times, 3 September 2003.
6 Andy Clarno, ‘Denel and the South African Government: Profiting from the
War on Iraq’, Khanya Journal, 3(March), 2003.
7 Umsebenzi, 2, 13, 2 July 2003.
8 Business Day, 11 July 2003.
9 Anti-War Coalition Press Statement, 1 July 2003.
10 Mail and Guardian, 24 May 2004.
11 Washington File, 11 June 2004.
12 See, e.g., Robert Brenner, The Boom and the Bubble, London: Verso, 2003;
Robert Pollin, Countours of Descent: US Economic Fractures and the Landscape
of Global Austerity, London: Verso, 2003; Ellen Meiksins Wood, Empire of
Capital, London: Verso, 2003; and Robert Biel, The New Imperialism,
London: Zed Books, 2000.
13 United Nations Conference on Trade and Development, Trade and
Development Report 2003, Geneva, 2003, p. 26.
14 Giovanni Arrighi, ‘The African Crisis: World Systemic and Regional Aspects’,
New Left Review, 15, 2002; John Saul and Colin Leys, ‘Sub-Saharan Africa in
Global Capitalism’, Monthly Review, July 1999.
15 Michael Barratt Brown, ‘Africa’s Trade Today’, Paper for the Review of
African Political Economy and CODESRIA 30th Anniversary Conference,
Wortley Hall, Sheffield, 27-29 May 2004. See also Michael Barratt Brown
and Pauline Tiffen, Short Changed: Africa and World Trade, London: Pluto
Press, 1992.
16 World Bank, Global Finance Tables, Washington, DC, 2002.
17 James Boyce and Leonce Ndikumana, ‘Is Africa a Net Creditor. New
Estimates of Capital Flight from Severely Indebted Sub-Saharan African
Countries, 1970-1996’, Occasional Paper, University of
Massachusetts/Amherst Political Economy Research Institute, 2002.
18 Michael Perelman, The Invention of Capitalism: Classical Political Economy and
the Secret History of Primitive Accumulation, Durham: Duke University Press,
19 David Harvey, The New Imperialism, Oxford and New York: Oxford
University Press, 2003.
20 David Harvey, The Limits to Capital, Second Edition, London: Verso, 1999.
21 Isabella Bakker and Stephen Gill, ‘Ontology, Method and Hypotheses’, in I.
Bakker and S. Gill, eds., Power, Production and Social Reproduction, Basingstoke:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2003, p. 36.
22 See, e.g., Dianne Elson, ‘The Impact of Structural Adjustment on Women:
Concepts and Issues’, in B. Onimode, ed., The IMF, the World Bank and the
African Debt, London: Zed Books, 1991; and Sara Longwe, ‘The Evaporation
of Policies for Women’s Advancement’, in N. Heyzer et al., eds., A
Commitment to the World’s Women, New York: UNIFEM, 1991. A
comprehensive African literature review by Dzodzi Tsikata and Joanna Kerr
shows that ‘mainstream economic policymaking fails to recognize the
contributions of women’s unpaid labour – in the home, in the fields, or in the
informal market where the majority of working people in African societies
function. It has been argued that these biases have affected the perception of
economic activities and have affected economic policies in ways that
perpetuate women’s subordination.’ See Dzodzi Tskikata and Joanna Kerr,
eds., Demanding Dignity: Women Confronting Economic Reforms in Africa,
Ottawa: The North-South Institute and Accra: Third World Network-
Africa, 2002.
23 In the case of the vast Johannesburg/London conglomerate Anglo American
Corporation, the cut-off for saving workers in 2001 was 12 per cent – the
lowest-paid 88 per cent of employees were more cheaply dismissed once
unable to work, with replacements found amongst South Africa’s 42 per cent
unemployed reserve army of labour. For more, see Patrick Bond, Elite
Transition: From Apartheid to Neoliberalism in South Africa, Foreword to the
Second Edition, London: Pluto Press, 2004.
24 Stephen Gill, Power and Resistance in the New World Order, Basingstoke:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2003.
25 Leo Panitch and Sam Gindin, ‘Global Capitalism and American Empire’, in
Socialist Register 2004, London: Merlin Press, 2003.
26 Robert Biel, ‘Imperialism and International Governance: The Case of US
Policy Towards Africa’, Review of African Political Economy, 95, 2003, p. 87.
27 Panitch and Gindin, ‘Global Capitalism and American Empire’, p. 33.
28 Thomas Barnett, ‘The Pentagon’s New Map’, United States Naval War
College, ThePentagonsNewMap.htm,
29 Martin Plaut, ‘US to Increase African Military Presence’,, 23 March 2004.
30, 2 May 2003.
31 Ghana News, 11 June 2003.
32 Ian Taylor, ‘Conflict in Central Africa: Clandestine Networks and
Regional/Global Configurations’, Review of African Political Economy, 95,
2003, p. 49.
33 The major dilemma, here, appears to be the very high level of HIV-positive
members of the armed forces in key countries. See Stefan Elbe, Strategic
Implications of HIV/AIDS, Adelphi Paper 357, International Institute for
Strategic Studies, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003, pp. 23-44.
34 Vancouver Sun, 11 May 2004.
35 Sapa, 2 July 2003. Other African countries where US war criminals are safe
from ICC prosecutions thanks to military-aid blackmail are the DRC, Gabon,
the Gambia, Ghana, Kenya, Mauritius, Sierra Leone and Zambia.
37 Patrick Bond, ‘Globalization, Pharmaceutical Pricing and South African
Health Policy: Managing Confrontation with US Firms and Politicians’,
International Journal of Health Services, 29(4) 1999.
38 Cited in SA Institute for International Affairs e-Africa, May, 2004. These rating
systems follow the examples set in the Africa Growth and Opportunity Act,
which by 2003 applied to 39 countries; the remaining 13 African states were
vetoed by the White House for various reasons. AGOA conditionalities
include adopting neoliberal policies, privatizing state assets, removing subsidies
and price controls, ending incentives for local companies, and endorsing US
foreign policy.
39 See Nancy Alexander, ‘Triage of Low-Income Countries. The Implications
of the IFI’s Debt Sustainability Proposal’, Washington, http://www. html/otherpubs/ judge_jury_ scorecard.pdf, 2004.
40 Sowetan, 26 August 2003.
41 Peter Vale, Security and Politics in South Africa: The Regional Dimension, Cape
Town: University of Cape Town Press, 2003, p. 133.
42 My own documentation can be found in Patrick Bond, Talk Left, Walk Right:
South Africa’s Frustrated Global Reforms, Pietermaritzburg: University of
KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2003; Against Global Apartheid: South Africa Meets
the World Bank, IMF and International Finance, Second Edition, London:
Zed Books, 2003; Unsustainable South Africa: Environment, Development and
Social Protest, London: Merlin Press, 2003; and ed., Fanon’s Warning: A Civil
Society Reader on the New Partnership for Africa’s Development, Trenton:
Africa World Press. See also Ian Taylor, Stuck in Middle Gear: South Africa’s
Post-Apartheid Foreign Relations, Westport: Praeger, 2001.
43 Business Day, 5 February 2001.
44 Deepath Gopinath, ‘Doubt of Africa’, Institutional Investor Magazine, May,
45 Sunday Times, 30 June 2002; Business Day, 28 June 2002.
46 There is enormous confusion over Mbeki’s role in Zimbabwe, which is
addressed in Patrick Bond and Masimba Manyanya, Zimbabwe’s Plunge:
Exhausted Nationalism, Neoliberalism and the Search for Social Justice, London:
Merlin Press, Pietermaritzburg: University of Natal Press and Harare: Weaver
Press, 2003. For an important critique of Mugabe from an Afro-feminist
standpoint, see Horace Campbell, Reclaiming Zimbabwe: The Exhaustion of the
Patriarchal Model of Liberation, Cape Town: David Philip, 2003.
47 Business Day, 28 March 2003.
48 Gopinath, ‘Doubt of Africa’. A few months later, Walter Kansteiner resigned
as assistant secretary of state for Africa, but the sentiment remained.
49 summit/2003evian/ briefing_apr030601.html.
50 Manuel Castells, The Information Age, Volume III: End of Millennium, Oxford:
Blackwell Publishers, 1998, p. 88.
51 For documentation, see Darlene Miller, ‘South African Multinational
Corporations, NEPAD and Competing Claims on Post-Apartheid Southern
Africa’, Institute for Global Dialogue Occasional Paper 40, Johannesburg,
2004; Darlene Miller, ‘SA Multinational Corporations in Africa: Whose
African Renaissance.’, International Labour Research and Information Group
Occasional Paper, Cape Town, 2003; and John Daniel, Vinesha Naidoo and
Sanusha Naidu, ‘The South Africans have Arrived: Post-Apartheid Corporate
Expansion into Africa’, in J. Daniel, A. Habib and R. Southall, eds., State of
the Nation: South Africa 2003-04, Pretoria: Human Sciences Research
Council, 2003 (although note that this latter chapter does not subscribe to the
argument that Pretoria is subimperialist).
52 Sunday Times, 24 May 2004.
53 Sapa, 30 March 2004.
54 Mail & Guardian, 16 November 2001.
55 Business Day, 2 June 2003.
56 Sunday Times, 24 August 2003.
57 Sunday Times, 13 July 2003.
59 For more on the African left, see John Fisher, ‘Africa’, in E. Bircham and J.
Charlton, eds., Anti-Capitalism: A Guide to the Movement, London:
Bookmarks, 2002; Leo Zeilig, ed., Class Struggle and Resistance in Africa,
Cheltenham: New Clarion, 2002; Bond, Talk Left, Walk Right, Chapter
Twelve; and Trevor Ngwane, ‘Sparks in Soweto’, New Left Review, 21, 2003.
60 Council for Development and Social Science Research in Africa, Dakar and
Third World Network-Africa, ‘Declaration on Africa’s Development
Challenges’, Resolution adopted at the ‘Joint Conference on Africa’s
Development Challenges in the Millennium’, Accra, 23-26 April 2002,
reprinted in Bond, Fanon’s Warning.
61 See, for Jimi Adesina, ‘Development and the
Challenge of Poverty: NEPAD, Post-Washington Consensus and Beyond’,
Paper presented to the Codesria/TWN Conference on Africa and the
Challenge of the 21st Century, Accra, 23-26 April 2002; and Dani Nabudere,
‘NEPAD: Historical Background and its Prospects’, in P. Anyang’Nyong’o, et
al., eds., NEPAD: A New Path. Nairobi: Heinrich Böll Foundation 2002.
62 Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth, New York: Grove Press, 1963, pp.