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Accumulation and Order:
State and society in Colonial Malawi, 1891-1929

BY
Anthony Edward Woods, Jr.

A DISSERTATION
Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Department of History

1991

L

1 \‘J

ABSTRACT

Accumulation and Order:
State and Society in Colonial Malawi, 1891-1929

BY

Anthony Edward Woods, Jr.

This study uses a revisionist perspective recently
established by African historians and political economists
to examine how colonial rule affected the economic
evolution of Malawi. The application of this theory
demonstrates that Zomba's political autonomy created
economic problems as the colonial state tried to fulfill
its own prerequisites and imperatives. In particular, the
administration's quest for hegemony and legitimacy caused
it to pursue policies which hindered the process of
primitive accumulation and thus thwarted the expansion of
capitalism in the country. The economy consequently grew
more dependent upon expatriate corporations whose interest
was maintaining the production of raw commodities for
metropolitan industries, not expanding Malawi's struggling
economy. Thus, colonial rule created dependency in
contemporary Malawi because of the state's failure to
perform its own role rather than as a result of
conspiratorial alliances with capitalist interests.

The key to this whole process was the disjunction
between the society Zomba envisioned and the one the world

economy created. Capitalist expansion generated relations

of production which contradicted the social schemes which
Malawi's administrators designed to facilitate their rule.
As the colonial government struggled to establish its
authority, social conditions became increasingly chaotic
and forced the state to work against the expansion of
capitalist relations of production. These political
constraints stunted Malawi's economy and made it dependent
on the largesse of multinational firms.

Thus, this thesis demonstrates that colonial rule did
create the structural conditions which left Malawi
economically subordinated to western capitalist countries.
However, it shows that this development of dependency was
not a result of a conscious plan but rather a consequence
of maladministration and political failure. Understanding
this fact allows us to avoid the ideological dialectics
which typically dominate studies of colonial Africa's
political economy and instead concentrate on the social and

economic dialectics which cemented the continent's fate.

Copyright by
Anthony Edward Woods, Jr.
1991

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Much of the research for this thesis was done while I
was a Fulbright scholar in Malawi and the United Kingdom in
1984-1986. I am very grateful to this agency and to
Michigan State University's African Studies Center for
administering it for me. The Social Science Research Centre
and the Department of History at the University of Malawi
were also very generous with assistance and support. A
number of archivists, too numerous to list here, also
provided invaluable help, and I would like to thank the
staff at the Malawi National Archives and the other
depositories listed in the bibliography.

I owe a deep academic debt to a number of individuals.
In Malawi, Kings Phiri gave me extensive advice and
support. Richard Waller also helped me in more ways than I
can list here, and I am very grateful for his support and
advice. In the United Kingdom, Robin Palmer, John
McCracken, Megan Vaughan and George Shepperson all took
time to help guide my efforts.

My scholastic debts also extend to individuals in the
United States. My committee was most helpful, and I owe
them all a debt of gratitude for their efforts on my

behalf. In particular, David Gordon and Atul Kohli provided

me with invaluable insights about the theory of
colonialism. Mel Page was a loyal friend whose support and
inspiration were always welcome. David Robinson was a
steady and wise critic whose lessons were absolutely
invaluable in the field. Finally, I owe a special debt to
Harold Marcus, my adviser, for introducing me to African
history and supporting my quest to become a scholar in that
field.

These acknowledgements could not be complete without
my acknowledging the support of my wife and parents. These
three very special people went through a great deal before
I finished this thesis, and I am eternally grateful for

their patience and forebearance.

vi

Chapter

Chapter

Chapter

Chapter

Chapter
Chapter

Chapter

Chapter
List of

TABLE OF CONTENTS

One: ...And the State Against All

Two: Crown and Charter: The Establishment
of Colonial Rule in Malawi

Three: The Lost Decade: The Conquest State
in Malawi, 1894-1904

Four: The Conquest State's Last Hurrah,
1904-1911

Five: Reform and Rebellion, 1911-1916
six: War and Reform, 1915-1922

Seven: Zomba's Last Chance: State
and Capital in the 1920s, 1922-1929

Eight: The Praxis of Colonialism

References

vii

1

21

62

104

157
204

244

294

311

Chapter 1
...And the State Against All

Colonialism remains an enigma for African historians.
Although most scholars will concede that imperial rule
created enormous problems in African societies and sowed
many of the seeds which created the continent's
contemporary economic problems, there is little consensus
about why colonialism failed. In large part, much of this
uncertainty results from an inadequate understanding of the
state's impact on social formation in colonial Africa.
various historians have discredited traditional theories
which claim capitalism worked hand in hand with the
colonial state to subordinate Africa to metropolitan
economies.1 But these scholars are still struggling to
explain the colonial state's role in the impoverishment and
economic subordination of Africa during the Twentieth
Century.

This study seeks to fill this lacuna by examining the
interplay between state policies and class formation in
colonial Malawi. It shows that that country's imperial
administrators never fulfilled the political imperatives of
their state despite their continual efforts to create a
legitimate and strong polity. This inability to build a
functioning state initially kept Zomba from supporting
nascent capitalist classes. When those classes did emerge
inspite of the state's inactivity, Zomba found that their

existence actually presented a new and dangerous threat to

the territory's political stability. Malawi's colonial
administrators consequently strove to create a civil
society actually antithetical to the formation of a
capitalist economy. The failure of the administration to
support primitive accumulation had a debilitating effect on
Malawi's colonial economy and sowed the seeds of rural
poverty which still exists in that country today.

Malawi is a natural subject for a study of this kind..
Even the country's extraordinary increases in GNP, which
made it one of independent Africa's most notable economic
successes, have failed to eradicate the dire poverty which
made this small central African country Albion's most
notorious “imperial slum."2 The inability to rescue the
Malawian people from poverty and hunger despite remarkable
economic growth underscores the devastating impact that
colonialism had on Malawi's economy. Like their compatriots
elsewhere, Malawian historians have thus far failed to
explain why colonialism created such devastating poverty in
a country whose productivity has been amply demonstrated in
the independence era.

This historiographical confusion is in large part a
reflection of continuing uncertainty about the nature of
colonial Africa's political economy. This issue has always
been a complex and controversial subject. Even as the
imperial age dawned in Africa, critics argued that
imperialism and, by logical extension, the colonial state

were merely ways for Europeans to extract wealth from

Africa and transfer it to Europe.3 Colonial officials
denied this calumny and protested that they were only
serving progress and enlightenment, not to mention empire,
by bringing modernism to primitive peoples. This debate
reached new levels as Marxist scholars entered the fray
during the First World War and denounced colonialism in
several polemics.4 The establishment of a Russian Marxist
state antithetical to the colonial powers in Western Europe
ensured that the Marxist critique of colonialism would
become an ideological standard around which left-wing
critics could assail the colonial governments.

The raising of the Marxist banner soon generated new
theoretical insights. The most popular of these Marxist
revisions suggested that European capitalism systematically
underdeveloped Africa in order to create greater wealth in
the metropole and perpetuate dependent economic
relationships between colonizers and colonized.5 Scholars
have accorded the colonial state a very important role in
this process. They argue that the natural anarchy of
capitalism would have prevented the systemic creation of
dependent economic relations unless the state, with the
rational institutions and the political authority necessary
for the successful consummation of economic plans, acted as
capital's lackey.6

The Marxist perspective soon assumed a powerful
position in academic circles, especially in inter-war

Britain. Even the vociferous criticisms about colonial

administration which arose from within colonial
bureaucracies or expatriate communities in Africa were
seized upon as further vindication of an emerging Marxist
orthodoxy. Only in the post-war period did Oxbridge
scholars try to break the shackles of the Marxist critique
by arguing that order and co-existence, not economic
exploitation, were the real bases for colonial authority.7

Such revisions were swept aside in the tumult of
decolonisation. Throughout the continent, the winds of
change ensured that only the darkest portrait of the
colonial regime would be painted as Africans struggled to
achieve self-government. The rhetoric of Africa's new
leaders reinforced the notion of the colonial state as a
capitalist lackey. Leaders like Nkrumah and Nyerere
campaigned not only against European political control but
also against capitalist exploitation. The African socialism
which emerged from those campaigns, combined with anti-
colonial struggles in Lusophone Africa, reinforced the
theory that colonial rule and capitalism were two sides of
the same coin.

The increasingly anti-capitalist sentiment in Africa
dovetailed neatly with Western academic currents. Old World
scholars, enthusiastic about the ascension of socialist
governments in several Western European states, happily
embraced any theory which would undermine both the
traditional state and capitalism. American scholarship's

slow emergence from the fear of MCCarthyism caused young

American scholars to embrace the apparently fresh concepts
of world economy and underdevelopment.8 Thus, even as
Africa's new leaders extolled the theories of the old left,
Western scholars heralded the apparent freshness and
utility of the same material.

This coincidence soon created a hothouse climate of
scholarship as universities expanded their African studies
programs and Africans won their independence. New studies
which elucidated the concepts of underdevelopment and
dependency often mirrored work done by Marxists in the
1930s.9 By the late 1960s, the notion of political economy
began to emerge from this framework and by the early 19703,
it established the colonial state as a principal villain in
the economic despoilment of Africa.10 Some scholarly
critics continued to argue that colonialism and the
colonial state had actually helped Africa, but their
critiques usually fell on deaf ears and the political
economy model became paramount in African studies.11

Ironically, even as Africanist scholars began to
explore and apply Marxist theories, the concept of
historical materialism was emerging from a Dark Age.
Eurocommunists began to assert their political independence
from the Kremlin while Western scholars began to revive the
dynamism which had characterized Marxist studies before the
Russian Revolution.12 One of the most important
ramifications of this renaissance was a reevaluation of the

role of the state in capitalist society.

This revision ironically began undermining many of the
precepts of the Africanists' theories even as those
paradigms were maturing. Like the colonial state, the
capitalist state had been a mere tool of the ruling classes
in virtually all Marxist studies before the 1960s. The
revitalization of left wing theory catalyzed a stimulating
debate as Marxist scholars, most notably Nicos Poulantzas
and Ralph.Miliband, tried to develop a comprehensive theory
of state and politics.13 Although the consequent debate
frequently resembled a quarrel between British pluralists
and French structuralists, it nevertheless produced
startling innovations about the role of the state in modern
society. Both Miliband and Poulantzas concluded that the
state assumed a more neutral "autonomous" position in
socio-economic affairs than Marxists had previously
conceded.

Subsequent studies have strongly supported the notion
that states in capitalist societies are autonomous.14
Marxists and their fellow travellers now feel that the
state is more concerned with the transformation of class
conflict into political clashes than with the actual
repression of subordinate classes, especially because the
latter requires an exorbitantly expensive level of constant
violence. These scholars argue that the state’s role is to
organize ideology and tradition in such a way that the
class conflicts inevitable in any mode of production will
be channelled into political institutions which will settle

the disputes without a radical reorganization of the
dominant modes of production. In essence, the state seeks
to manipulate ideology and tradition so that they will
mystify exploitive relations of production and defuse any
violence which economic domination might occasion.

This theory obviously gives the state a much different
role than previously assumed. Instead of defining class
formation and structure, the state simply provides a venue
in which the socio-economic conflicts inherent in any
economic system can be reconciled with a minimum
disturbance in production. Giving the state this role
reinforces the crucial point that transformations in the
mode of production, and not the dictates of a political
superstructure, turn the wheels of history.

There are limits to the state's autonomy which have an
impact on class formation. A state does need to maintain
dominant classes so that it can obtain the revenue it needs
to sustain its bureaucracy. Therefore, political
institutions are designed to reproduce dominant modes of
production, be they capitalist or non-capitalist, until
transitions in productive activity create a new dominant
mode. Thus, it is unlikely that a state will ally itself
with a class from a nascent mode of production in any
society. Only when a class represents a dominant economic
system, and by extension is itself the dominant class in
society, can the state even appear to take its side. Even

then the state's primary function is to ensure that this

class maintains its hegemony by winning political victories
rather having the state exerts its authority through
coercive activities which drains the government's exchequer
and undermines its legitimacy.

The ramifications of such a theory for African
historians are obviously enormous. If the capitalist state
itself only serves capitalist classes because they
represent the means to reproduce a dominant mode of
production, the orthodox position that the colonial state
supported capitalist classes in the empire becomes very
dubious. After all, capitalism was rarely the dominant mode
of production in colonial areas despite the best efforts of
both indigenous and expatriate populations. Thus, the state
needed to adopt a policy which not only sought to transform
traditional ideologies into political idioms compatible
with European rule but also aimed to restructure class
relations by encouraging primitive accumulation.

The nature of primitive accumulation itself makes it
unlikely that any state would seek to pursue both these
policies simultaneously. Primitive accumulation of course
describes the process by which capitalism emerges. Although
this process suffers from the same mystification which
affects so many Marxist ideas, its central point is that
society divides itself into ”two very different kinds of
commodity owners: on the one hand, the owners of money,
means of production, means of subsistence, who are eager to

valorize the sum of values they have appropriated by buying

the labour-power of others: on the other hand, free
workers, the sellers of their own labour power, and
therefore the sellers of labour."15 Only the transformation
of a society into these two predominant classes can create
capitalism.

This process is, as Marx himself admits, ”anything but
idyllic."16 Laborers have to become alienated from
traditional means of subsistence so that individuals who
have accumulated both capital and the means of production
can hire them. That alienation fragments traditional
society in such a manner that it becomes difficult to
salvage traditions and ideologies which the state can
manipulate to create a civil society which depends on
hegemony rather than coercion. Therefore, unless the state
can depend on a capitalist class which can sustain extended
coercion until new ideologies mystify the exploitive
characteristics of the newly socio-economic system, it
probably will not seek to alienate labor because that
process will make the establishment of legitimate authority
far more difficult as traditions disintegrate.

Indeed, the state would fear using coercion in order
to sustain primitive accumulation because of the
possibility that it could not draw the conflicts inherent
in any emergent economy out of the workplace and into the
political arena. Not only would such a failure generate
conflicts which the state sought to prevent, but it could
also antagonize the capitalist class if the state failed to

10

apply its coercive power. Thus, the political imperatives
of the state might lead it to discourage primitive
accumulation rather than create it. Such discouragement
would allow it to rely on traditional social patterns which
it could manipulate to establish legitimacy and maintain
order rather than depend on a costly coercive bureaucracy
funded by a nascent dominant class whose future was at best
uncertain.

This political perspective tends to demystify many of
the enigmas surrounding colonial rule. For instance, it
explains how imperial authorities could maintain order
inspite of the small number of police each colony had. Such
an explanation is especially important because unswerving
support of capitalism and the capitalist class by the state
would require the latter to exert enormous amounts of
constant violence in order to maintain order. It also
places the question of dependency within the framework of
the socio-economic transformations which occurred as a
result of the state's socio-political machinations rather
than as a result of the numerous economic laws which the
state passed and on which political economists tend to
dwell.

The last point is especially important in terms of
understanding colonialism from the perspective of
historical materialism. All too often scholars have assumed
that legislation created reality in colonial Africa.

However, as our understanding of basic socio-economic units

11

such as households has become more refined, scholars have
begun to realize that law had less to do with the way in
which Africa evolved than did tradition, social
organization and most importantly economic interaction with
representatives of the metropolitan economy.17 As these
revelations occur, the state's role becomes more ambiguous.
Consequently one can legitimately ask whether its role in
social organization may actually have subverted the process
of primitive accumulation and thus actually undermined
capitalism, at least as a mode of production, as colonial
rulers tried to bridge the chasm between African and
European culture. .

Of course, laws did have some effect on African
economies. They clearly did limit the ways in which socio-
economic structures could emerge. But the state's
insistence on maintaining socio-political structures
inconsistent with primitive accumulation ensured that the
capitalist class would always question the state's
legitimacy, at least in economic matters. This generated
tension between capitalists and colonizers, and many
accumulators eventually developed productive systems which
sought to avoid both the state's scrutiny and its
intervention. Moreover, this tendency was crucial because
it tended to signal to other groups that state policy vis-
a-vis economic matters was irrelevant, leading to the
establishment of economic formations, particularly in terms

of articulation between capitalists and non-capitalists,

12

which were scarcely affected by the myriad rules developed
by the central administration.

Little work has actually explored this vein. D.P.
MCCarthy’s study certainly suggests that the state
exhibited enormous autonomy in Tanganyika during the inter-
war period.18 Nevertheless, MCCarthy is virtually alone in
his assertions. Other scholars interested in political
autonomy, most notably Professors Berman and John Lonsdale,
have until recently been preoccupied by attempts to
establish the state’s autonomy in the face of hostile
historiography.19

This continued uncertainty has become more important
as the role of primitive accumulation becomes increasingly
important in African historiography. John Iliffe has
recently addressed this issue in his investigation of
capitalism in Africa.20 Robert Shenton's fine analysis of
capitalism in Northern Nigeria has furthered this trend by
asking whether dependency is actually a consequence of
capitalism’s failure rather than its structural
manipulation.21 Moreover, Shenton's questions about the
effectiveness of primitive accumulation in Africa bring up
the central question of this thesis: if primitive
accumulation did not occur in Africa, what role did the
colonial state play in that failure?

This question inexorably leads us back to the state’s
attempts to establish hegemony while fulfilling its

prerequisite functions. While the type of hegemony upon

13

which the state is dependent does not completely organize
relations of production, it does affect them enough to
determine the viability of certain modes of production,
most notably capitalism, and the effectiveness of socio-
economic transformations such as primitive accumulation.

If the state chooses to eschew indigenous traditions and
ideologies and instead rely on other hegemonic devices, it
will facilitate primitive accumulation by creating
political institutions which are more compatible with
capitalism and in which capitalists may participate. Such a
course will also force the state to adopt a policy of
strong coercion to maintain order as people try to retain
their traditions and adapt to newly subordinate political
and socio-economic positions. If, on the other hand, the
state reduces the level of coercion it needs to exert by
legitimizing a traditional social order, it will inhibit
primitive accumulation by reinforcing non-capitalist social
relations among the general population and reinforcing
ideologies frequently antithetical to capitalism's
prerequisites.

Colonial administrations did not follow perfectly
theoretical paths, of course. Most states were simply too
haphazardly organized to plan, let alone adopt, a
systematic pattern of social control. Moreover, the state’s
initial conquest of a territory usually gave it a breathing
space in which its legitimacy would not be questioned
because of the viciousness with which it had established

14

imperial rule, thus reducing its need to establish a
functioning socio-political structure. The early state also
helped primitive accumulation by ensuring that its
indigenous economy achieved some degree of articulation
with metropolitan economies so that it could obtain the tax
revenue needed to reproduce the state.

Articulation encouraged capital accumulation by
linking Africa's non-capitalist economies to European
capitalism. Colonial economies became monetized, and
markets in which capital could be obtained emerged. But
this linkage did not depend upon the formation of
capitalist relations of production in Africa, and
capitalists found that they needed either to entice and
induce people to work in their enterprises or establish
“labor-service systems” to maintain production.22 These
requirements became even more pressing as it became
apparent that colonial capitalists could not rely on the
state for coercive assistance. Relying on cooption rather
than coercion was costly and debilitating for nascent
capitalists though, and primitive accumulation consequently
stalled time and time again.

Under these conditions, capitalism as a productive
system ultimately failed to establish itself as a dominant
mode of production and left the various colonies at the
mercy of multinational corporations built up with
metropolitan capital. These conglomerates were able and

willing to accept the non-capitalist modes of production

15

that they found in the colonies in order to produce the raw
commodities needed for their capitalist enterprises back
home. The arrival of these monolithic corporations
considerably retarded local capitalism, either expatriate
or indigenous, because the multinationals' objectives
strengthened non-capitalist production and thus slowed down
the transformation of the indigenous society.

The state further antagonized its own capitalist class
by readily accepting multinational participation in the
colonial economy. The state's reason for behaving in such a
manner was a consequence of simple economics. The
multinationals could provide the administration's treasury
with badly needed finances without significantly altering
the social organization upon which the state depended to
maintain order. Moreover, the expatriate conglomerates did
not need financial assistance for infrastructural
development. Local capitalists simply could not provide
revenue under the same conditions. Instead, their ability
to produce revenue depended upon significantly larger
outlays of financial assistance than the administration,
constrained by a penurious Exchequer, could provide.

The state's dependence upon traditional authority and
multinationals almost insured that primitive accumulation
in Africa would be a torturous affair. Thus, the state's
role in the creation of dependency in Africa was very large
not because administrations supported capitalism but rather

because they structurally constrained primitive

16

accumulation. The colonial state contributed to the
impoverishment of Africa by inhibiting capitalism, not by
assisting it. As a result, Africa today is not only
hampered by excessively large amounts of non-capitalist
production, but it still has to survive the debilitating
social costs which primitive accumulation inevitably
entails. L

Certainly this kind of relationship between state and.
economy characterized colonial Malawi. Sir Harry Johnston's
first administration openly worked against Malawi's
expatriate capitalists because of the commissioner's
alliance with the British South_Africa Company. After
Johnston and Rhodes suffered a falling out, the little
commissioner legitimized the capitalists' position. But his
tepid support for their enterprises and his focus on his
administration's internal problems did little to help their
position.

Things did not improve after Sir Alfred Sharpe
succeeded Johnston in 1897. Even after a devastating
recession at the turn of the century, Sharpe did little to
help the economically beleagured capitalist class.
Moreover, new predatory multinationals such as the Imperial
Tobacco Company moved into the colony and further
threatened the local capitalist class. Despite Sharpe's
benign neglect, capitalism nevertheless began to expand by
the end of his regime.

This expansion brought about new problems. The state

17

belatedly realized that it lacked effective control in
rural areas and began investigating the establishment of
traditional political systems. Meanwhile, African
proletarians and capitalists became increasingly restive
about their subordinate positions in colonial society.
Matters came to a head when John Chilembwe led a rebellion
of indigenous workers and capitalists in 1915. The state
realized it needed to gain more control over the African
community and asserted that Malawi would be an indigenous,
not expatriate, colony.

The territory's expatriate capitalists rather
naturally resented this decision, and a few planters even
threatened to rebel. These threats became hollow as the
postwar recession undermined their position, and the
government stood by and watched them wither. The capitalist
class had one last chance to initiate primitive
accumulation in the mid-19203, but class fractionalization
made it virtually impossible to start the process without
state assistance. By 1930, even the faint hope of the mid
1920s had evaporated and capitalism had clearly failed.

Thus, the making of an imperial slum had less to do
with administrative support for capitalists than it did
with government inhibition of primitive accumulation. The
continued poverty of the Malawian people is not a
consequence of the population’s exploitation by capitalism
but rather a result of the colonial state's refusal to

allow the social basis for capitalist exploitation to

18

occur. Colonialism did create dependency in Malawi, but it

was a result of a design far different from the one

scholars have traditionally ascribed to the colonial state.

5.

ENDNQIBS

The best example being Walter Rodney, H w Europe

Underdexeleeed Afriee (Washington. 1974)-

The best summary of Malawi's economic achievements, as

well as the structural limitations of those
developments can be found in the proceedings of a
conference held in Edinburgh during the summer of
1984. See John McCracken, ed., ugi§1i1_An Alternatiyg
Pattern of Deselennene (Edinburgh. 1985)- The best
description of Malawi's continuing cycle of poverty
can be found in Louis Msukwa and Vim Ettema, [god and

Helnutritien.in Balaxi (Zomba. 1985)-

For instance, J.A. Hobson, Imperialism (Ann Arbor,

1965).

Rikolai Bukharin. Imperialism and.flerld.neenemx (New
Innerialiem1.The.nisheee

York,1973): v. I. Lenin,
Stage ef,£eniteliem (New York. 1979)-

An excellent example of this genre is Andre Gunder

Frank. Dependent Aeeumnlaeien and Underdexeleement
(New York, 1979), 157-153.

As some Malawian historians still believe. For instance,

see Leroy Vail, "The State and the Creation of
Colonial Malawi's Agricultural Economy," in Robert
Rotherg. ed-. Innerialieni Qelenialienl and Hunger
(Lexington, 1983). Even the Elias Mandala's recent
revisionist study, while conceding that Malawi's
administratioon "was not the obedient servant of
European enterprise that many writers have made of
colonial states, ultimately discusses its "historic
mission...as an agent of metropolitan capital." See

Elias Mandala. Eerk.and.§entrel in e.2eaeant Eeenenx
(Madison, 1990): 131 and 277.

7. Ronald Robinson and John Gallagher, Africa and the

Victorians (Garden City, 1968).

8. Perhaps best exemplified by the work of Immanuel

Wallerstein, whose first effort was Wallerstein,

Afrieai The Relitiee.ef Indeeendenee (New York. 1961)-

19

9. A.G. Frank, ”The Development of Underdevelopment,"
H9n£h1¥.B§!i£E (September, 1966): a prime example of
work from the 19303 is A.T. Nzula, et al, Eereeg
Lesser in Qeleniel,Afriea (London. 1979)-

10. For instance, see E.A. Brett, Qeienieiiem end
underdexeleenent in Best Afriee (London. 1973)-

11. The critics being L.H. Gann and P. Duignan, Bergen 2f
Ennire (New York, 1967).

12. The key study in this emancipation is probably Louis
Althusser and Etienne Balibar, Bending
(London, 1970): for more on the vivacity of Marxist
theory before the Russian Revolution, and its
subsequent degradation, see Leszek Kolakowski, Main
surrents ef Marxism; 2211 21 The.§elden Ase (Oxford.
1985). and ibid. 1112211 11.Tne.Breekdexn-

13- Ralph Miliband. The.§tete in seeitelist Seeietx
(London, 1969): and Nicos Poulantzas, Eeiitieei Beyer

and seeiel glasses (London. 1973).

14. Anthony Giddens and David Held, eds., gineeee‘ EQEgIL
and genfliet (Berkeley. 1982)-

15. Karl Marx, anitdli Veinne Qne (New York, 1977): 874.
By far the best summary of primitive accumulation and
its meaning can be found in Part Eight of this volume,
especially chapter twenty six. Others have picked up
the theme, most notably Lenin in V. I. Lenin, The
Dexeleement ef.§eeitelisn in Russia (MOSCOW. 1977)-
But depressingly little work has focussed on this
central issue in either African historiography or
Marxist scholarship, and the term remains unclear.

16. Marx, genirei, 874.

17. As recent studies on colonial Malawi demonstrate. See
Landeq White. Easeneret Pertreit of an Afrieen _iilese
(Cambridge, 1987): Megan Vaughan, The firery er en
Afrieen.£enine1 Gender and famine in Tnentietn Qenturx

Mdldfli (Cambridge, 1987): and Mandala, _erfi end
. Law has not been abandoned though, and I

MIA—Lul-
eagerly anticipate the publication of Kristin Mann and

Richard Roberta. eds-.ALex.in Qeleniel Afriee
(Portsmouth, 1991).

18. D-M-P- McCarthy. Qeleniel Bureanereex and treating
underdexeleenent (Ames, 1982)-

19. Bruce Berman and John Lonsdale, ”Coping with the
Contradictions: the Development of the Colonial State

20

in Kenya, 1895-1914,” JAB, 20, 4 (1979): Berman and
Lonsdale, "Crises of Accumulation, Coercion and the
Colonial State," £155, 14, 1 (1980). Another
interesting attempt by Anne Phillips to unravel the
mysteries of the colonial state has also emerged
recently, but like other studies has fallen short of
it potential. See Phillips, The Enigma er
(London, 1989). In Central Africa, Karen Fields has
done some interesting work on the autonomous state
which, like McCarthy's, appears to have occasioned
little comment. See Fields, Beyiyai ang Beheiiien in
hiriea (Princeton, 1985). Berman's
long awaited book has also just appeared, and promises
to resolve many of the questions which still persist
about the nature of the colonial state. See Bruce

Berman. Qentrelenderisisinseienielxenmrhe
Dialectic ef nomination (Athens. 1990)-

20. John nine. The Emersenee ef Afriean daeitalism
(London, 1983).

21. Robert Sheraton, The nexeieenent ef seeitelisn in
Northern Nigeria (Toronto. 1986)-

22. As Lenin described them in his discussion of the
transition from a corvee to capitalist economy in
Russia. See Lenin, The DQIQIQREQEELLL. 195-207. The
kind of system developed in Malawi on these lines was
the notorious thangara production.

Chapter 2
Crown and Charter:
The Establishment of Colonial Rule in Malawi

Malawi's colonial state faced a difficult task at the
end of the 19th century. It not only had to establish its
own authority over a violent territory populated by diverse
peoples, but it also needed to establish political
institutions to administer what it seized. Nor could it
depend on a strong socio-economic structure since the
country's dominant productive activity was slave raiding.
Thus, the state had to encourage the creation of an
economic system around which it could create a civil
society based on hegemony and not coercion.

Unfortunately, the state failed almost completely.
Johnston's dependence on the largesse of the British South
Africa Company made him ignore the territory's existing,
albeit nascent, capitalist community. As a result, that
community began to develop in a number of ways which
created deep schisms within the European population and
contradictions among commodity producers. Johnston
simultaneously made a bad situation even worse by relying
on violent coercion so much that even the sympathetic
British community became alienated.

That alienation became a problem as Johnston’s
relations with Rhodes soured. As the South African's
largesse ended, the colony's first commissioner desperately

cast about for new sources of revenue. He consequently

21

22

failed to rationalize the class fractions established by
the immigration of new settlers seeking their fortune in
Britain's new territory. Instead, he strengthened the
schisms in the European community by granting wholesale
land grants to practically anyone who wanted them.

This land plan made Malawi's economic future unclear.
Virtually all of the Shire Highlands were alienated, making
peasant production impossible in the country's most fertile
areas. What type of estate production would predominate was
uncertain. Large estate owners, mostly settlers from the
pro-colonial era, apparently wanted to depend on tenant
laborers while small estate owners, principally new
immigrants, depended on local labor supplies and migrants
from the central and northern regions. The contradiction
between these two kinds of production effectively hobbled
both of them and thus hindered primitive accumulation.

Nor was economic policy Johnston’s only foible. He
also failed to establish more than a primitive bureaucracy
which could establish British hegemony even if the economic
contradictions were resolved. The northern and central
parts of the country remained remote areas governed by a
handful of administrators. Even in the south where he
stationed more administrators, Johnston neglected to
demarcate districts and establish any routine other than
terror. Moreover, the commissioner virtually disdained
traditional authorities and society once his administration

was in place.

23

The net effect of these policies was that Malawi
changed masters but not its future. A colonial anarchy
replaced the chaos of the pro-colonial period and left many
questions hanging. The kind of production around which the
country would organize as it entered the imperial economy
was uncertain. Definitions of law and order in any new
society which did emerge were equally unclear. Indeed, the
only certainty was that the Union Jack had been run up the.
pole. But that could do little for the territory's economy
or society until the state began working in concert with a
class which effectively utilized the country's rich

resources 0

In many respects, it was ironic that Britain ever
became interested in Malawi.1 There was little to attract
the British in the small, narrow country between modern
Mozambique and Zambia. Indeed, Malawi was not prime
property: it had none of the mineral deposits which drew so
many African adventurers to the continent: nor did it
harbor the kind of geographic mysteries which attracted
other Europeans to the continent.

Most importantly, the British faced a daunting task in
creating a unified polity from the territory's disparate
cultures and peoples. In the Shire River and Shire
Highlands, the Nyanja and Mang'anja dominated. The Chewa
who today dominate the country's politics inhabited the
central region. Farther north, a number of distinct

24

peoples, most notably the Ngonde, the Tonga and the
Timbuka, lived.

The northern groups were the most distinct and shared
few cultural and political traditions other than their
common Bantu origins.2 The Chewa, Nyanja and Mang'anja were
far more closely related: they shared mutually intelligible
languages and a common culture. However, while they had
once been able to unify into relatively large states,
such as Undi's kingdom, by the nineteenth century they
lived in ”a number of separate and more or less independent
chieftainships."3 Indeed, although there were theoretically
paramouncies which dominated vast regions, by the mid
nineteenth century nothing ”could destroy the realty of
village autonomy” and traditional political systems "did
not form a tightly integrated system."

The decentralization of political authority in
central and southern Malawi made the village, or mngri,
those regions’ most important political institution. Each
village was ruled by a headman, or henna, who had a loose
allegiance to a chief, or mfnmn. This loose system not only
ensured that there was ”instability in the hierarchial
system of leadership" but also guaranteed that societies
in the southern two-thirds of Malawi were becoming more
"atomistic as the number of hierarchial systems was
multiplying."5

Ironically, the instability which characterized

the Chewa domains also spread to the north in the

25

eighteenth century when Balokwa clans moved into the
northern lake regions. These groups, who were interested in
establishing trade routes from Zambia to Lake Malawi, did
not establish political control in northern Malawi, but
their presence began to upset traditional relations in the
more centralized northern societies.6 Thus, throughout the
territory, change, instability and disunity characterized
indigenous societies by the dawn of the nineteenth century.

These problems made the country a natural target for
predatory groups, and by the mid-nineteenth century
foreigners intent on exploiting local conditions began to
arrive. The first of these groups were slave traders who
travelled from the coast and began to prey on the local
population.7 Simultaneously two new groups, the Ngoni and
the Yao, displaced from their own homelands, migrated into
the area and established new states.8

These interlopers made a shambles of indigenous
society, displacing thousands of people.9 People in the
Shire Highlands, the southern region's most fertile
territory, feared Ngoni raids so much that they fled the
more habitable plains for more defensible hills.10 Further
north, Ngoni raiders and slave traders laid seige to
Timbuka, Tonga and Ngonde settlements and severely
disrupted those societies. Thus, the country's already
anarchic conditions grew even worse as the nineteenth
century progressed.

The disruption caused by these intruders was not

26

entirely negative though, and, left on their own, the
immigrants might have developed more stable and unified
polities. For instance, when the Ngoni eventually settled
in the north central part of the country, they established
relatively stable states which effectively kept other
predatory slave raiders at bay. The Yao and "Arabs" also
built new political and economic systems based on caravan
trade to the coast.11

The societies dependent on caravan trade had problems
than the emerging Ngoni polities. Since slaves were the
most coveted commodity in Mozambique's entrepots, both the
Yao and the ”Arabs" became suppliers and began raiding
their neighbors to obtain the human cargo needed. These
military expeditions naturally undermined indigenous
culture even further and made its replacement with more
stable systems more imperative. Indeed, Yao raiding became
so common that one scholar has claimed that it produced
"anarchy" in pre-colonial Malawi.12

The slave societies created Yao and "Arabs” also
experienced difficulties beacause they did not reproduce
traditional societies in a new setting but instead sought
to create new systems. Consequently, leaders fought bitter
civil wars to establish their legitimacy, and traditional
figures, displaced by the transformation of the political
economy, bitterly resented the new men and took every
opportunity to subvert the new paramounts.13

Nevertheless, these emerging societies also had

27

positive influences on the region. They were heavily
populated by people seeking sanctuary from the slave wars.
And by the late nineteenth century, some of these polities,
like Mlozi's, had become very powerful, thus providing
bases from which social systems more unified than
traditional Malawian societies might emerge. But their
dependence on the slave trade increased the level of
violence throughout the territory in the interim.

The slave trade did more than undermine traditional
society. It also brought Malawi into British consciousness
through the work of David Livingstone. The missionary had
first ventured into Malawi during an exploration of the
Zambezi.1‘ Appalled by the rampant slave raiding he
witnessed, he decided that he needed to return and
establish missions which could offer sanctuary and
protection for the beleagured indigenous community. Like
many of his plans, Livingstone's vision for Malawi
foundered upon reality. His most notable contribution to
Malawi occurred when he abandoned his Makololo porters in
the Shire Valley, and these well armed interlopers
established states which grew strong enough from commodity
production to resist slave raiders.15

Livingstone's death stimulated his fellow Scots to
take up the gauntlet in Malawi and strive to end the slave
trade. Scottish missionaries set out for both the lake
regions and the Shire valley.16 Their stations eventually

became centers around which other expatriate activity,

28

particularly economic enterprises, organized. Malawi was,
however, very remote from other commercial centers in
southern Africa. Goods either had to be transported
overland by porters or up the shallow Zambezi and Shire
Rivers. The absence of a navigable entrance to the Zambesi,
resulting in a need to tranship goods from the KwaKwa
River, further complicated communications.17 As a result
of these problems, there was little European interest in
Malawi, and by 1889 only one expatriate corporation, the
African Lakes Company (hereafter A.L.C.), operated in the
territory.

Even this company would never have been founded if the
country's large missionary population had been able to
provision itself.18 But selling supplies to Christian
proselytizers was not very profitable, and without large
profits the A.L.C. was unable either to develop or
encourage economic operations which would interest
metropolitan investors or governments. The local managers
gamely tried to improve their situation, but throughout the
pre-colonial period only the ivory trade kept the company
out of the hands of its creditors.19

Despite its poverty, the A.L.C. did influence the
transformation of Malawi's economy. It not only provided
the only regularly scheduled boats from the coast inland to
the ivory-rich areas, but it also established trading posts
where people could sell a few agricultural commodities.20

This consumption allowed a small number of European

29

planters, primarily former missionaries, to begin
operations on a very small scale. The development of this
planter class was important. Despite its small size, this
new group experimented with crops and began to develop the
type of commodities which were most compatible with
Malawi's climate.21 They also advertised the viability of
profitable enterprise in a region more noted for its
missionaries than its capitalists.22 Most importantly, they
advanced the argument that Malawi ought to be under the
Union Jack by establishing British commerce as well as
Christianity in the small country. Indeed, the planters
frequently petitioned the Foreign Office to assume formal
control of the country.23

The lobbying was not entirely in vain. In 1883,
Whitehall established a consulate in order to monitor the
slave trade.24 Though there were frequent disputes between
the ambitious expatriate community and the more cautious
officials, the latter's presence reassured the European
community that Britain would not abandon them in the
scramble for Africa.25 Nevertheless, to the consternation
of the local expatriates, Whitehall obstinately refused to
be drawn further into Malawian affairs, and it certainly
appeared that this small territory with such marginal
potential warranted little consideration or concern in
Whitehall. So the situation remained static yie:a:yie the
Portuguese claims to the country.26

Two events changed that apathy forever: the

30

establishment of the British South Africa Company
(hereafter the B.S.A.C.) and the participation of Sir Harry
Johnston in its affairs. It was hardly coincidental that
Johnston and the affairs of the early B.S.A.C. were
inextricably linked. Johnston was an ambitious young
adventurer who had decided to fulfill his destiny in the
growing empire: by the late 1880s, he already had conducted
delicate negotiations for the Foreign Office over the Oil
Rivers.27 By the late 18808, he tried to further his
reputation by proposing that the empire establish a domain
from the Cape of Good Hope to Cairo.28

These activities ensured that Johnston would gain an
important position in the establishment of British hegemony
north of the Limpopo, and in 1888 he was appointed Her
Majesty's Consul to Mozambique. This was a difficult
position because while Britain was willing to grant a
charter to the B.S.A.C. for administering the area between
Mozambique and Angola, the Portuguese still claimed that
region as part of their empire. Johnston's first task was
to resolve this problem by traveling to Lisbon in order to
negotiate an agreement with the Lusitanians.29

Johnston stunned everyone by reaching a provisional
agreement which actually excluded the Shire Highlands from
the British zone. In some respects, Johnston's abandonment
of Scotland’s most important Malawian outpost remains
inexplicable. The consul was certainly aware of the

presence of a small but well entrenched British community

31

there. He also recognized that the area was a potential
gateway into the rich African interior.3o But Johnston's
decision allowed him to obtain a larger area for Rhodes'
nascent empire, and he appeared more than willing to
sacrifice a few Scottish clerics and entrepreneurs for the
sake of his patron's imperial ambitions and his new charter
company.

Johnston's rash action distressed Lord Salisbury, the
Foreign Secretary. The government's slim majority depended
upon Scottish voters, and any abandonment of the Shire
Highland's large community of Scottish missionaries,
especially for the aggrandizement of a South African
charter company, was certain to raise the hackles of Her
Majesty's Caledonian subjects.31 Salisbury consequently
decided that the provisional agreement was completely
unacceptable and impressed this lesson upon Johnston by
sending him to Edinburgh to explain the treaty to the
Scots. The tumultuous and acrimonious welcome which he
received convinced Johnston that any settlement would have
to place the Shire Highlands in Britain's territory.32
Salisbury gratefully accepted the commissioner's new
appreciation of the situation, and with Johnston's
acquiescence London denounced the treaty.

The rejection left the fate of Malawi in the air.
Stung by his reception in Edinburgh, Johnston was anxious
to go to Mozambique and conduct a treaty making expedition
which would firmly entrench Malawi in Britain's sphere of

32

influence. Salisbury, however, refused to provide the
consul with the necessary funds, which were finally offered
by Rhodes.33

Rhodes' generosity was an ominous sign for Malawi's
capitalists. Johnston had already demonstrated that he was
willing to sacrifice Malawi for the B.S.A.C.'s benefit even
without any formal obligation to Rhodes: now that Johnston
was economically tied to Rhodes, his capacity to act
impartially began even more suspect. The commissioner's
bias became even more problematic when Rhodes purchased the
A.L.C. in June 1889.34 Although Whitehall denied it, it
certainly looked like the charter company was about to
expand its operations north of the Zambezi.35

The question of charter rule was very troublesome for
Malawi's expatriates. No one doubted that the B.S.A.C.
could establish an administration which would curtail the
slave trade and improve communications. However, the
expatriates did not expect the South African colossus to
tolerate the presence of competing economic enterprises,
and they feared that charter rule would inevitably cause
the loss of their estates and businesses. Johnston himself
experienced this uneasiness upon his arrival in Malawi:
after landing at Katungas, the Mozambique consul found that
some of the planters and traders were unhappy about his
association with the B.S.A.C. and concerned about his real
purpose in traveling to the country.36

The expatriate community, however, was even more

33

worried about the immediate threat presented by the
presence of a large Portuguese force at the confluence of
the Ruo and Shire Rivers. Major Serpa Pinto, the Portuguese
commander, insisted that his party was only interested in
conducting scientific inquiries along the west side of the
lake, but no one doubted that the Lusitanians would be more
than willing to collect treaties as well as specimens as he
travelled to the lake.37

Johnston's timely arrival stalled the Portuguese
advance after the consul sternly warned his Lusitanian
counterpart that London could not allow Pinto to march
through the Shire Highlands with such a large military
force.38 Not wanting to start an international incident,
the major agreed to wait at the junction of the Shire and
Ruo Rivers until he received instructions. But his refusal
to demobilize his troops made it imperative for Johnston to
establish a cordon of allies around the territory before
Lisbon decided to test London's mettle.

The expatriate community was keenly aware that
Johnston needed to gather his treaties quickly, and they
readily facilitated his negotiations with local leaders.39
John Moir, the territory's leading trader, and his
compatriots not only translated for the consul, but they
also used their considerable influence with the region's
chiefs to assure Johnston's success. As a result, the
consul rapidly obtained a series of treaties among chiefs

on Malawi's southern frontiers.

34

The accords did not actually establish British
sovereignty in place of traditional authority: instead,
they simply prohibited the chiefs from signing covenants
with other powers.40 But the chiefs' acceptance of the
treaties ensured that Portugal could not legitimately claim
southern Malawi. Johnston now turned to securing a viable
route into the interior, which meant establishing British
hegemony along the lake.

This task was far more daunting. Many chiefs'
dependence upon the slave trade made them suspicious of
British aims.41 Moreover, Portugal's willingness to send
guns into the interior, which the British vehemently
opposed, reinforced the paramounts' reservations about
abandoning Lisbon in favor of London.42

Johnston nevertheless had some advantages. Among the
Yao, the disunity created by the evolution of a new
political economy provided the consul with an opportunity
to force the chiefs' acquiescence. If the new paramounts
refused to sign, Johnston could always make agreements with
displaced leaders, thus eroding the new men's legitimacy
and authority.“3 Such a policy was not applicable to the
"Arabs," but the consul succeeded with them by implying
that he would not disturb their sovereignty and
unquestionably accepting the frequently inflated
descriptions of their territory.44

Like the southern treaties, Johnston's accords did

little to change the indigenous economy. Indeed, the

35

consul's discussions with the Arabs indicate that he was
willing to accept the etarne age indefinitely, despite the
prevalence of the slave trade.45 Such tolerance is not
surprising: Johnston's principal aim was establishing his
cordon of authority, not the formal reorganization of the
region's economy. Indeed, it is hard to escape the
conclusion that Johnston had no intention of making any
decisions about the eventual redefinition of the
territory's economy until he returned to London and worked
out a plan for the country's administration with Whitehall
and Rhodes.

The expatriate community had no intention of allowing
Johnston this period of grace. They fervently hoped that
the crown would assume control of the territory as soon as
possible. Upon his arrival in southern Malawi, Johnston had
tried to explain that he had no intention of declaring a
protectorate unless Serpa Pinto actually entered the
highlands.46 Convinced that he had impressed his audience
with the narrow criteria needed to declare a protectorate,
Johnston named John Buchanan acting consul to Nyasaland and
left for the lake.

Buchanan's appointment gave the expatriates exactly
the opportunity they had been seeking for years. For the
first time, one of their number had the authority to
establish British sovereignty in Malawi. Buchanan lost
little time in taking advantage of this rare chance. On
August 19, he sent a dispatch to Serpa Pinto in which he

36

unofficially informed Lisbon's envoy that the Shire
Highlands had become a British protectorate.47 By October,
he made the announcement official.

Some commentators feel that Johnston actually
instructed Buchanan to make these declarations in order to
escape blame if London did not approve.48 Such an assertion
clearly underemphasizes Johnston's links with Rhodes and
his sympathy with the eventual establishment of charter
rule in Malawi. Johnston still hoped to establish charter
rule in Malawi: just before his departure for the lake, he
informed Salisbury that the A.L.C. (i.e. the B.S.A.C.)
could "maintain order in South Nyasa-especially if
strengthened by alcharter.""9 Yet, establishing charter
rule would be far more difficult if the territory was
already a protectorate. The expatriates' allies in the
United Kingdom, particularly the Scottish churches, would
view such an action as acrimoniously as they had received
news of the draft treaty.so In their mind, there was little
difference between the ”decadent" Catholic Portuguese and
the rapacious B.S.A.C..

It seems scarcely conceivable that Johnston, who had
learned about the Scots' influence from bitter experience,
would cooperate with the expatriates to establish a state
which would undermine charter rule. It is more plausible
that Buchanan seized the opportunity offered in order to
make it more difficult for the B.S.A.C. to gain control of

the country. By declaring a protectorate, the laird of the

37

Mulunguzi had established a government which prohibited
both Portuguese and B.S.A.C. authority, thus protecting the
planters from the imposition of a hostile political
economy. .

Johnston was not pleased about this turn of events. He
cut his northern expedition short and scurried off to
London.51 There he found an unhappy Lord Salisbury, who was
especially displeased about having to finance an
administration for his new protectorate. Johnston tried to
allay these concerns by continuing to champion charter
rule, which of course would relieve Whitehall of the burden
of paying for Malawi's administration.52

Events were rapidly making charter rule even more
untenable. By the fall of 1889, the A.L.C.'s board of
directors reconsidered their agreement with Rhodes and
tried to abrogate it.53 Rhodes' complaints led to new
negotiations, but the A.L.C. reasserted its independence
and refused to follow the B.S.A.C.‘s instructions.54

This split obviously discouraged charter rule. The
B.S.A.C. could no longer argue that it had a preeminent
position in Malawi's economy once the A.L.C. had reasserted
its claim to that honor. Rhodes' company consequently had
no economic rationale for assuming authority. Indeed,
granting charter rule would only make it harder for the
A.L.C. to regain its autonomy from the B.S.A.C., lending
credence to metropolitan concerns about the sacrifice of

Christianity and Commerce on the altar of the City stock

38

exchanges.55

The influx of a number of new settlers further
complicated the establishment of charter rule. The
declaration of a British protectorate catalyzed a surge of
expatriate immigration. In April 1891, the Blantyre
missionaries complained that

the paper demon is absorbing tract after tract of fair

country into his insatiable paunch. Of course nothing

like the amount purchased can ever be occupied, but
the purchase confers power of exclusion and possible
resale, which may from a political and commercial
point of view justify purchase.56
The powers of exclusion mentioned by the missionaries was
especially damaging to any illusions about charter rule,
since any governing company would be not be able to exploit
vast tracts of alienated land in the very country it was
administering. Johnston recognized this danger and warned
Rhodes that he needed to arrange an administration before
”a hundred bogus claims and interloping companies...contest
with you the exclusive right to mine and govern.'57
Finally, the A.L.C.'s refusal to purchase land at Rhodes'
behest made the B.S.A.C.'s position even more tenuous since
the company was obtaining virtually none of the country's
land.58

The settlers' poverty undermined the B.S.A.C.‘s
ambitions even more. Hector Duff, an important chronicler
of the protectorate's early years, noted that "the great

majority [of the settlers] were poor men” who scarcely had

enough money to buy their new estates.59 They hoped that

39

their investments would make their fortunes and were
unlikely to easily surrender their new domains to an
already profitable corporation.60 In essence, expatriate
immigration established economic conflict between
independent planters and large corporations, particularly
the B.S.A.C..61 If Whitehall granted a charter to any large
company, let alone the B.S.A.C., this friction would
inevitably cause political troubles too.

Johnston nevertheless continued to believe that
charter rule was the best way of governing Malawi.62
Despite Salisbury's opposition to charter rule, Johnston
hoped that the B.S.A.C. might benefit from the cabinet's
decision to have one commissioner oversee the company's
territory in Zambia and the Crown's in Malawi.63 The two
administrations would in theory be fiscally independent:
the B.S.A.C. would contribute an annual subsidy for
transportation and police forces in Zambia, while the
commissioner would pay for Malawi's administration through
taxes on the local economy.54

But reality was very different from theory. Although
the commissioner was supposed to keep separate accounts,
Malawi's local community simply could not yet provide
enough revenue to support an administration. Since
Whitehall refused to give Johnston any money to hire
administrators, the commissioner could not expect to
establish an administration in Malawi without using

B.S.A.C. funds theoretically earmarked for Zambia.65

40

Moreover, the woebegone nature of Malawi's economy made it
obvious that the commissioner could not repay these ”loans"
in the near future. Thus, the agreement in effect placed
much of the burden of administering the protectorate upon
Rhodes' shoulders.

The B.S.A.C.'s directors were not happy about this
state of affairs, but they accepted it after Johnston, the
champion of charter rule, was named as the territory’s
first commissioner. Johnston soon justified the company's
faith by inhibiting the economic activities of other firms
in the protectorate. For instance, he refused to sanction
accords made between the Central Africa Company and
Malawian chiefs because he felt that “it would be very hard
if this greedy Central Africa Company were to worm its way
in and try to oust the other company [the B.S.A.C.] from
its rights."66 Captain Cameron, the C.A.C.'s founder, not
deterred by a mere commissioner, eventually complained
directly to the Foreign Office.67 Whitehall, concerned
about maintaining the fiction that its commissioner ruled
separate territories, insisted that he provide the company
with some land, but Johnston circumvented the intent of
these instructions by endorsing leases to some fairly
worthless and inaccessable land west of the Shire River.68
Johnston's actions so frustrated the company's directors
that they abandoned their efforts, thus eliminating one
potential rival for the B.S.A.C..

Johnston's land policies also affected the planter

41

community. The commissioner not only refused to recognize
the titles of companies like the C.A.C., but, to the
consternation of the Foreign Office, he also ignored the
claims of the growing settler community.69 This obstinacy
obviously did not inhibit production on estates where
planters had already settled. However, the commissioner’s
refusal to confer formal titles made it impossible for the
planting community to obtain loans on their estates since
no one would accept land as collateral without a legitimate
title. Johnston further restricted the capitalists’ ability
to raise capital by refusing to allow them to sell any of
their land. In at least one case, the commissioner
physically removed a planter who had bought land from
another expatriate.7o Thus, the commissioner’s land policy,
or, more accurately, his refusal to adopt a land policy,
severely inhibited the planters’ capacity to acquire
capital and thus thwarted primitive accumulation at an
early stage.

Johnston’s tax policies made these restrictions even
more damaging. Scholars have traditionally claimed that
most colonial taxes were instituted in order to support
capitalist production.71 Yet, in Malawi, the commissioner’s
levies not only consumed the planters’ small capital
reserves but disrupted production as well. The taxes
naturally undermined the planters’ position and thus
hobbled the process of primitive accumulation even more.

But sacrificing primitive accumulation did not necessarily

42

contradict the state’s role (at least as it was defined by
Johnston) since the taxes provided revenue for the
administration.

Johnston decided to impose a poll tax of six shillings
upon his African subjects before he had even reached the
Shire Highlands. This levy, which the commissioner insisted
was only a response to indigenous inquiries about taxes,
had a devastating impact upon the local economy.72 Because
cash was in such short supply, Johnston was forced to
accept agricultural payment-in-kind.73 Meanwhile, his
military force and porters stretched the Shire Highland’s
limited food resources to the limit by placing
unprecedented demands upon local producers. Extracting even
more food through taxation devastated the subsistence
sector, and the highlands suffered a severe famine.74

The crisis immediately affected the production of
exportable commodities. Since ”migrant workers suffered
principally“ during food shortages, planters could not
obtain laborers who would not work in the highlands if the
price was starvation.7s The planters’ situation was made
even more desperate as the famine reached its peak in the
fall of 1891. Since Malawian cropland has to be prepared
for cultivation during this season, the planters were
deprived of labor when they most needed it.

Many planters consequently developed a system of labor
tenancy known as thangara.76 Thangara is justifiably

described as one of colonial Malawi’s darkest stains. It

43

was a system of labor tenancy in which people would be
given land on an estate in return for a specified amount of
labor, usually one or two months worth. Since rhangara was
supposedly a system used in traditional societies, estate
owners made lucrative offers to various chiefs in order to
convince them that their followers should move onto the
alienated land and work in the fields.77 But the planters
soon learned that rhangara was expensive because the state
made them pay the poll tax for their tenants.78
Johnston had to obtain revenue from somewhere, and the
estates were a golden goose. Their owners were not
protected by the legal ambiguities of the treaties Johnston
had signed with the country’s chiefs.79 They had to accept
the dictates of the little commissioner, like it or not.
Moreover, the estates’ proximity to the centers of
administrative control, most particulary Zomba and
Blantyre, made it easier for the administration to collect
revenue there than among the more remote, inaccessible and
unalienated areas. Taxing planters did not require the
commissioner to appoint numerous district officers because
he could use officials from the central administration.
Ironically, Johnston’s attempts to force the chiefs to
assent to taxation and collect revenue caused even more
hardship for the planters. The traditional authorities’
obstinacy soon forced the commissioner to conduct a number
of punitive expeditions.8o His campaign was remarkably
effective: throughout the Shire region, authorities bowed

44

down before the administration’s superior armaments.81

Resorting to arms hurt the planters because the
consequent mistrust and animosity physically threatened
them. A group of Mlanje planters complained that ”the
burning of huts is, by native interpretation, a declaration
of war, and seriously endangers the life, property and
capital of the white residents."82 Certainly the number of
violent acts aimed at the the planter community increased..
A Mlanje expatriate informed her sister that

last week a man was caught going to burn Mr.

Bradshaw’s house on Thursday Mr. Hastings was going

home [and] stepping outside was fired on...We have

men out watching all night here for fear of anyone
coming with fire at night.83
Thus, the commissioner’s poll tax policies not only
siphoned capital away from the planters but actually
reduced their physical security as well, adding a heavy
psychological burden to a community already suffering
considerable stress.84

The planters’ hostility grew even more intense when
Johnston sought more revenue by placing duties on both
imports and exports.85 Reducing the profits from exports
was bad enough, but the higher cost of imports fueled a
cycle of inflation already initiated by the
administration’s enormous consumption of foodstuffs and
labor. Now planters not only had to expend more goods for
services and food, but they also had to pay more for those
goods.86

The expatriates bitterly complained about the impact

45

of the commissioner’s policies upon their enterprises, but
Johnston could do little to ease their burden.87 The
Foreign Office’s wanton refusals to offer more assistance
drove the beleaguered commissioner into increased
dependency on the B.S.A.C..88 After only seven months in
the protectorate, he reported that
At present this administration costs about 22,500& of
which 20,000i are found [sic] the British South Africa
Company, i.e., 10,000% for police, 7,500i for
administration (2,500% of this sum being devoted for
the present year to expenditure by Mr. Rhodes in the
Barotse country), and 2,500% subsidy paid to the Lakes
Company for the water transport of the administration:
and about 2,500% by the Foreign Office (my salary,
Sharpe’s, and Marshall’s police allowance).89
Six months later, Johnston confessed that "I am compelled
to employ nearly all the men and money of the British South
Africa Company’s establishment north of the Zambesi on the
development of Nyasaland, and especially of the Shire
Province."90 In December 1892, The Foreign Office admitted
that "the whole sum [of the B.S.A.C. subsidy] has been
applied to the exceptional expenditure required for
Nyasaland."91
Nor was the subsidy itself enough for the growing
administration. Within a year of return to Malawi, Johnston
began to borrow money from the B.S.A.C. in order to meet
his mounting obligations.92 Penury was, to a large extent,
the basis for all of the commissioner’s policies, and he
desperately needed money with which he could repay the

charter company. If the means needed to collect this lucre

bankrupted the struggling planters, so much the better:

46

their collapse would leave the B.S.A.C. as the only
enterprise which could pay for Malawi's administration and
thus make charter rule more acceptable to Whitehall.
Johnston's tax policies therefore provided the potential
for clearing Johnston's I.O.U.s with the B.S.A.C. while
paving the way for the company's ascension to authority.
Although Johnston's policies implicitly supported the
company's ambitions, Rhodes, beset by financial problems,
decided that he could no longer rely on the commissioner's
loyalty alone. By spring 1893, the B.S.A.C. demanded that
Johnston formally recognize the company's "preferent
rights" in the protectorate.93 The commissioner, aware that
the expatriates' continued presence ensured that Whitehall
would veto charter rule, tried to avoid a showdown, but
Rhodes persisted.94 As a result, Johnston travelled to
Capetown and made a provisional agreement with his patron
on May 3 1893. This accord guaranteed that Johnston would
give the B.S.A.C. four-fifths of the protectorate's
territory in return for an annual subsidy of $17,500 over
the next five years.95
The Foreign Office was not pleased with this
agreement: Lord Roseberry, the new Foreign Minister,
insisted that ”the Protectorate is not included in the
charter granted to the British South Africa Company."96
Nevertheless, the Foreign Office's determination to avoid
the cost of administering the country caused Whitehall to

attempt negotiating a compromise which would continue

47

B.S.A.C. subsidies without actually giving the protectorate
to the company.97 Rhodes, leery of further compromise,
refused to parlay and insisted that the Foreign Office
immediately recognize his preeminence in Malawi.98

London refused, aware that Rhodes' demands were really
the first step towards an eventual amalgamation of Malawi
and Zambia. The government simply could not hand a
territory already populated by plucky British subjects over
to a charter company. Therefore, the Foreign Office, noting
that the 1891 agreement was renewable until 1895 "at the
discretion of Her Majesty's Government," finally informed
Rhodes that "the 1891 agreement shall continue" without
amendment.99

Rhodes was livid and felt that Johnston had first
deceived and then betrayed him.100 These feelings ensured
that the commissioner could no longer depend upon his
patron's largesse but also guaranteed that the company
would expend no capital developing the protectorate's
floundering economy. This decision was almost fatal:
Johnston had restricted the introduction of capital into
the country under the assumption that the B.S.A.C. would
make good the loss. Rhodes' unbridled hostility now made
that idea untenable, and Johnston had to develop a scheme
which would revitalize the protectorate's economy.

The commissioner's options were extremely limited. The

recent collapse of the B.S.A.C.'s stock on the London

exchanges made it highly improbable that metropolitan

48

financiers would invest in any Central African territory
and forced the commissioner to create a revival of the
country's established industries.101 Johnston consequently
became the planters' champion, and he sought to provide
them with the legal tenure which he had refused to cede. In
October 1893, Johnston finally submitted a land settlement
for the Foreign Office's approval.102

The plan was a crucial watershed in Malawian history.
Johnston's final demarcations alienated virtually all of
the arable land in the Shire highlands and firmly
established estate agriculture, rather than peasant
production, as the territory's dominant system of
production. Although most historians feel that Johnston's
decision was really based on his desire to confirm white
supremacy in the country's economy, the commissioner's
acquiescence was more accurately the result of economic
necessity.103 Malawians were unprepared for the
"legitimate" world economy and thus could not develop a
peasant economy capable of producing the revenue so
desperately needed by the state.

Moat indigenous societies were structurally ill suited
and technologically unprepared for peasant production.104
Developing indigenous production would require both capital
and time, and the commissioner had neither. He therefore
had to rely on productive systems which were already
integrated into the imperial economy and at least had a
potential for immediate capital accumulation. Aside from a

49

few ivory hunters, only the estate owners could satisfy
these prerequisites. Yet, establishing the primacy of
plantation agriculture through the distribution of land was
at best a partial solution. Johnston had not only
dangerously weakened the estate sector by inhibiting
additional investment, but his precipitous land policy also
created fundamental economic contradictions which needed to
be resolved before the process of primitive accumulation
could take off.

Resolving these contradictions was especially
important because of the Shire region's ecological
limitations. Unlike other African regions, the dense
indigenous population completely used the resources of the
highlands to feed itself.105 The dislocations caused by the
slave wars and Yao/Ngoni invasions had partially relieved
the pressure on the area's ecology, but new demands made by
plantation agricuture were bound to create serious
problems. Estate cultivation required an enormous number of
laborers, and it was inevitable that the planters would
soon have to rationalize their enterprises in a way which
would provide resources for both the sustenance of life and
the production of export commodities.

They could only do so by developing a harmonious
relationship between themselves and indigenous producers.
Such consonance would allow the continued production of
foodstuffs for the ever growing number of workers without

inhibiting plantation activity. However, this integration

50

depended on the presence of a unified capitalist class. Any
fractionalization of this class would inevitably establish
contradictory systems of production and hence strain the
area's finite resources by placing too many demands upon
them.

But the land settlement made fractionalization of the
capitalist class inevitable because it established large,
medium and small sized estates.106 Such diversity was not
unique in Africa: many colonies had different sized
plantations and farms within their territorial boundaries.
In most cases, however, these industries were
geographically as well as economically differentiated. In
other words, variably sized estates existed in their own
particular regions of a colony, not contiguously within one
province.

Malawi's estates, however, were all mixed up in the
highlands. Huge spreads were immediately adjacent to small
and medium sized estates. Such proximity was devastating
because the variation in estate size ensured the emergence
of different types of production. As a result, the
capitalist sector's articulation with indigeous production
established itself through a wide range of competing
channels. This diversity eventually placed too many demands
on the area's economy and created havoc in the subsistence
and commodity producing sectors.

To some extent, the adoption of labor tenancy already
demonstrated the impact of capitalist fractionalization

51

upon the nascent export economy. Only large estates could
support subsistence tenancy and commodity production:
smaller estates simply did not have enough land to do both.
Instead, they depended on ”free" labor for the operation of
their enterprises. But the tenant system reduced local
potential for the production of foodstuffs by withdrawing
male workers from the villages during crucial periods of
cultivation.107 The subsequent decrease in the area's food.
surplus inhibited the flow of labor into the area and
constrained production on small sized estates.

Johnston was not concerned with such esoteric problems
as economic contradictions or articulation. He decided that
the plantation sector was the key for the territory's
economy and acted accordingly. What was important was the
legitimization of the planters' position: any problems
which arose from this process could be dealt with later.
Indeed, the commissioner faced far more serious problems
than stress created by the establishment of plantation
agriculture. He still had no authority in large sections of
the country, particularly among the lakeside slave traders.
Even in the territory he did control, there was virtually
no administration on the ground: he had not even made
district boundaries by January 1894.108 Nor had he
developed any administrative departments which could
improve the communications system or conduct horticultural
experiments. In short, Johnston still had not established a
state. His uncertainty about the future of the territory

52

already created delays in the establishment of an
administration and the definition of the region's political
economy.

Once Johnston did act, the best he could do with the.
country's political economy was lionizing a deeply divided
class virtually bankrupted by his policies. This policy
angered ill for the territory's future, but at least the
commissioner established an economic base around which he
could organize an administration. Disaster might yet be
averted if the state proved itself able to cope with the
contradictions and conflicts inherent in the export sector
of the economy. But Johnston would have to perform far
better than he had done so far in order to stabilize the

country's economy.

1. Malawi, of course, is the name given the country after
its independence. During colonialism, Malawi was
actually called British Central Africa and then
Nyasaland. For purposes of simplicity, I have
identified the territory as Malawi throughout this
project.

2. The northern groups still remain relatively
understudied, possibly due to their precarious position
in contemporary Malawi. Dr. Leroy vail and Dr. Owen
Kalinga have done the best work on the Timbuka and the
Ngonde respectively, see Owen Kalinga, ”Cultural and
Political Change in Northern Malawi, c. 1350-1800,"

Afrieen Studies W 3 (1983): Owen Kalinga, A
Histem ef the Bonds Kingdom of Malexi (Berlin. 1985):
and Leroy Vail, "Suggestions towards a reinterpreted
Timbuka history," in B. Pachai, ed., Ih£.EdIIY.31§§QI!
ef_haiayi (Thetford, 1972).

3. H.W. Langworthy, ”Chewa or Malawi political organization
in the precolonial era," in Pachai, The
EIILQIYLLL. 104. The pro-colonial history of these

4.

5.

9.

53

sections also remains obscure although Kings Phiri and
Matthew Schoffeleers have done important work on this
subject. See Kings Phiri, ”The Pre-Colonial History of
Southern Malawi: An Interpretive Essay," naiayi,genrnai
OI fieeiai fieienee, 8 (1980-81): Owen Kalinga, "Cultural
and Political Change in Northern Malawi, c. 1350-1800,"

srngiee_uenegranhe 3 (1983): Owen J.M. Kalinga,

AHisteuefthengendeKinedemefHelexiworlin.
1985): and Matthew Schoffeleers, ”The Zimba and the

Lunda State in the Late Sixteenth and Early Seventeenth
Centuries." leurnal of Afriean History. 28 (1987) -

Mandala: HQIK find.;9n§IQlLLeo 17-

J.As Kamchitete Kandawire, Thangggal Egrggg‘Lgthr 9:
Reeiereeal Assistants: (Blantyre. 1979). 40-

Melvin E. Page, ”Malawians in the Great War and After,"
Ph.D. thesis, Michigan State University, 1977, 2.

The best discussion of the slave trade moving into
the region is Edward Alpers, Tyery and_§iayee_in
nae; general hiriea (Berkeley, 1975). For more on the
impact of slavery in the region, the best sources are
Marcia Wright, ”Women in Peril...,' fieeiai
, December 1975: and P.R.O. O'Neill to Foreign
Office, October 3 1884, F.O.84/l67l.

Three of the best studies about the Yao are Yohannes
Abdallah, The_Xaee (Zomba, 1919): Edward Alpers,
"Trade, State and Society Among the Yao in the 19th
centurYo' lgnzndl Q: AIIIan HIEEQIXI X, 3 (1969); and
Kings M. Phiri, ”Yao Intrusion into Southern Malawi,
Nyanja Resistance and Colonial Conquest, 1830-1900, ”
Transafriean Journal of 1135.93.13 (1984) For more on
the Ngoni, see J.K. Rennie, "The Ngoni States and
European Intrusion," in E. Stokes and R. Brown, eds.,
The Zamheeian Rae; (Manchester, 1966): A more general
treatment of the period can be found in John MCCracken,
"The Nineteenth Century in Malawi,” in Terrence

Ranger. eon Asneets of central Afriean histerx
(Evanston, 1968), 25.

Diary of Henry O'Neill, enclosed in O'Neill to F.O.,
March 23 1884, F.O. 84/1671.

10. Oral Interview, Ndawinga Skamu, Skamu Village, July 15

1985.

11. For more on these "Arab" states, Marcia Wright and

Peter Lary, "Swahili Settlements in Northern Zambia and
Malawi.” Afrieen Histories]. Studies. IV. 3 (1971):
O'Neill to Foreign Office, February 12 1889, F.O.

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.

17.

18.

19.

54

84/1671. The term ”Arab" is used to describe three
kinds of people: real Arabs from the coast, Swahili,
any indigenous person who became throughly Islamized.
See H.W. Macmillan, "Notes on the Origins of the Arab
War," in B. Pachai, ed., Th§.EdIlY Hieteryrii, 276. For
more on the confusion on these early states, see Melvin
Page's revisions of Shepperson's work on the Jumbe of
Kota-Kota: George Shepperson, "The Jumbe of Kota Kota
and Some Aspects of the History of Islam in British
Central Africa," in I.M. Lewis, ed., Teiam in Trepieai
arriea (London, 1966): Melvin E. Page, "The Manyema
Hordes of Tippu Tib: A Case Study in Social
Stratification and the Slave Trade in Eastern Africa,"

Journal of.Afrioen Historioel Studies. 7.
1 (1974): and Melvin E. Page, "David Livingstone and
the Jumbe of Nkhota-kota,” Bhegeeian Hierery, 3, 1
(1972).

Andrew Ross, ”The Origins and Development of the Church
of Scotland Mission Blantyre, Nyasaland, 1875-1926,"
Ph.D. thesis, University of Edinburgh, 1968, 11.

Ian Linden, ”Mponda Mission Diary, 1889-1891,"
International

oI.Afrioan.Bistorioel.Studies.
VII, 2 (1974), 281.

The best study of Livingstone in Malawi is probably Tim
Jeal, Liyingerene (Suffolk, 1985), 197-215.

W.H.J. Rangely, "The Makololo of Dr. Livingstone," The
lenrnai, 12, 1 (1959): and Hugh Macmillan,
"The African Lakes Company and the Makololo, 1878-
1884,” in Roderick J. Macdonald, ed., {rem hyaeaiand

to Maiayi (Nairobi, 1975), 66.

There are a number of solid studies on these early
missions. For instance see John McCracken, Reiiriee
and dhristianitx in.nalasi (Cambridge. 1977): Andrew
Ross, "The Origins...,”: and George Herbert Wilson,

The.nistorx.of.the.Unixersities.Mission‘to.£entrel
hiriea (Freeport, 1975).

John Buchanan. The.§hire.nishlands (Edinburgh. 1885).
7-38 and 77-78.

The A.L.C. was originally incorporated as the
Livingstonia Central Africa Company in June 1878 and
changed its name in 1879. By far the best study of the
company's origins and development is Hugh Macmillan,
"The Origins and Development of the African Lakes
Company,” Ph.D. thesis, University of Edinburgh, 1970.

National Library of Scotland, ms. 8021, "Prospectus of

20.

21.

22.

23.

24.

25.

26.

27.

28.

29.

30.

31.

32.

55

the African Lakes Company, 1879." This document noted
that ”the shareholders have become satisfied that a
larger capital is needed than was at first
contemplated.” The company dependence on ivory is
demonstrated by the fact that the Moirs exported some
120,000 worth between 1879 and 1889, Macmillan,

"The Origins...," 161.

Murlene McKinnon, "Commerce, Christianity and the
Gunboat: An Historical Study of Malawi Lake and River
Transport, 1850-1914,” Ph.D. thesis, Michigan State

University, 1977, 186: Buchanan, The Shire Highlands,
38.

Unfortunately little is known about these early
settlers, but certainly John Buchanan developed a
number of crops on his Mlunguzi estate, most
importantly coffee, see Buchanan, The Shireiii, 60-71.

Buchanan was chief in this activity, and his book is
clearly a chamber of commerce type of tract.

For instance, see Hawes to Foreign Office, March 30
1886, F.O. 84/1751.

Alan Smith, "The Anglo-Portuguese Conflict over the

Shire Highlands," Macdonald, ed., EIQn.N¥d§d1dn§111.
49.

Goodrich to Foreign Office, August 29 1885, F.O.
84/1702.

As Smith makes clear, see Alan Smith, "The Anglo-
Portuguese...".

The best study of Johnston is Roland Oliver, Sir Harry
Johnston and the soronhle.for Afrioe (London. 1957)-

Oliver, air Harryiii, 140-44.

Sir Harry H- Johnston. nritish.oentrol Afrioe (London.
1897), 31.

Indeed, Johnston wrote an article about the importance
of including Malawi in the empire, The_Timee, August
22, 1888.

The Scottish churches demonstrated this concern by
sending literally hundreds of petitions to the F.O.
demanding the inclusion of the Shire highlands in the
British sphere, see F.O. 84/2013-2015.

Ross, "Origins...,” 182.

33.

34.

35.

36.

37.

38.

39.

40.

41.

42.

43.

44.

45.

46.

47.

48.

49.

50.

56

Harry Johnston, The Storx.of.M!.Life (London, 1923),
234-238.

F.L.M. Moir, After Liringetene (London, n.d.), 176.

Indeed, in July 1889 Salisbury reminded his subjects
that the company genie net be allowed north of the
Zambezi, Macmillan, "Origins and Development...,' 318.

Johnston, Britiehtti, 85-86.
Johnston to Salisbury, August 9 1889, F.O. 84/1969.

Ibid.
Johnston to Salisbury, August 29 1889, F.O. 84/1969.
The first treaties were enclosed in ibid.

As early as 1884, the problems of Britain's
abolitionist posture had been apparent, O'Neill to
Foreign Office, February 20 1884, v.0. 84/1671.

Ian Lindon. Catholiosi Peasants §.§heua Resistanoe.in
nyaeaiand (Berkeley, 1974), 26-27.

Johnston demonstrated the potential of this approach
when he bypassed Mponda in his negotiations with that
Yao chief, Johnston, Britiehtti, 90: see also, Oral
Interview, Ndawingu Skamu, Skamu village, July 15
1985. '

See, for instance, what Johnston did with the Jumbe at
Kota-Kota, Johnston to Foreign Office, October 10
1889.

Hanna claims that Johnston ”thought Britain could use
[the Arabs] as fellow workers in the task of

oivilizing Africa". Hanna. The.sedinnines of.nxasaland
and.North:Eestern.Bhodesia (Oxford. 1956). 154.

Johnston, firitiehiiti, p. 85: Johnston to Salisbury,
August 9 1889, F.O. 84/1969.

Buchanan to Serpa Pinto, August 19 1889, enclosed in

Buchanan to Salisbury, September 10 1889, F.O.
84/1942.

Hanna. The Beginnings ill. 145-
Johnston to Salisbury, August 9 1889, F.O. 84/1969.

Especially since the missionaries were already

51.

52.

53.
54.

55.

56.

57.

58.

59.

60.

61.

62.

63.

57

complaining that "a large company aided by Government
is welcome indeed: but the relegation of all interests
to...a large monopolizing commercial concern is not
and never has been considered help at all [and] is
certainly not protection,“ Lite ang_flerx in Britieh
central Afrioa. August 1890: see also M.
October 1890.

Edinburgh University Library, Gen. 717/11, Mrs. Moir to
Jeanie, January 29 1890. Mrs. Moir complained that
Johnston left "without a word” to anyone.

Ross, "The Origins...,' 196: Macmillan, "The Origins
and Development...,' 302.

Macmillan, ”The Origins...,' 320-321.
Macmillan, "The Origins...,' 322.

Especially because of the company's traditional links
with the missions.

LIMA... April 1891-

Rhodes House Library, Mss. Afr. s. 228/c3a, #18,
Johnston to Rhodes, July 25 1890.

Hanna. The Beoinninoser... 175.

Sir Hector Duff, Airiean Small ghee (London, 1932), 73.
Duff was a devoted civil servant who rose from
assistant collector in the mid-1890s to the position
of acting governor after the First WOrld War.

Oral Interview, Eric Emtage, Newslands Rest Home, June
15 1985. Emitage, the Society of Malawi's librarian
emeritus, originally came to Malawi in the mid-1920s,
and held a variety of official and unofficial
positions through the years. His sensitivity and
intelligence make him an invaluable source of
information.

Oral interview, A.F. Stark, Lauderdale Estate, February
28 1986. Stark, the grandson of R.S. Hynde's partner
and current general manager of Blantyre 8 East Africa,
emphasized the antagonism between estate owners and
large corporations, particularly the A.L.C. and
Imperial Tobacco.

Macmillan, "The Origins..,' 331.

MacMillan, "The Origins...,” 336.

64.

65.

66.

67.

68.

69.

70.

71.

72.

73.

74.

58

This distinction has often led scholars to
underemphasize the presence of the B.S.A.C. in Malawi,
see Ross, “The Origins...,' 98.

Johnston to Salisbury, December 6 1891: Margin note
dated September 30 1891, F.O. 84/2114.

Johnston to F.O., January 21 1893, enclosed in Bowler
to Roseberry, June 9 1893, r.o. 403/185.

Central Africa Company to Salisbury, April 28 1891,
F.O. 881/5950. It is worth noting that this
corporation was not the firitieh Central Africa Company
which played such a large part in the colony's
history.

Johnston to Roseberry, January 5 1892, enclosed in
Bowler to Roseberry, June 9 1893.

Johnston to Roseberry, October 13 1892, F.O. 403/174.

Johnston to Roseberry, October 13 1892, F.O. 403/174:
M, October 1892 .

These works are the progeny of Arrighi's classical
study, G.A. Arrighi, “Labour Supplies in Historical
Perspective." Journal of Dereloomental Studies. VI.
(1970). The most notable examples of this trend in
Malawian historiography are Simon Myambo, "The Shire
Highlands Plantations: A Socio-Economic History of the
Plantation System of Production in Malawi, 1891-1938,”
M.A. Thesis, Chancellor College, University of Malawi,
May 1973: B.S. Krishnamurthy, "Economic Policy: land
and labour in Nyasaland, 1890-1914," in Pachai, ed.,
The Edzlxilr: and Leroy Vail, "The State...'.

Johnston, m: 110 o

Johnston to Salisbury, December 10 1891, F.O. 84/2114.
It is worth noting that Krishnamurthy insists that
taxes were paid in cash from the early years even
though Duff discusses taxes in kind and local
documents record taxation in goods well into the 20th-
century. see Krishnamurthy, "Economic Policy...," 392

offioe

and Hector Duff Exasaland under the foreign
(London, 1906), 352.

Nyasaland Timer, XI, 44, November 2 1911. Henry Brown,
asserted in this issue that “some may yet remember the

famine that took place the year after the
administration came, due to taking grain for taxes."
See also M, September 1891, October 1891,
February 1892: and Megan vaughan, "Social and Economic

75.

76.

77.

78.

79.

80.

81.

82.
83.

84.

85.

86.

59

Change in Southern Malawi,” Ph.D. thesis, University
of London, 1982.

Vaughan, "Social...," 117.

For more on this system, see J.A. Kamchitete Kandawire,

Thongdtdiii-

For instance Eugen Sharrer enticed a number of Angoni
groups onto his estates, Lonrho (Malawi) Company
Archives, Sharrer to Folliott, July 8 1925. I am
grateful to Mr. Gordon Davies of Limbe for making this
material available to me: A.L. Bruce also adopted this
policy, Oral Interview, Laiden Chitsulo and Laiton
Juma, Nchema village, July 23 1985.

Messrs. Emmanuel and Simonds to Roseberry, May 26
1893, F.O. 403/185.

Most notably since it was unclear whether Johnston had
the right to collect taxes from indigenous
inhabitants. See Duff, Nyasalandlll, 351: Vaughan,
”Social...,"20: A.J. Swann, "A Nyasaland Pioneer
Looks Back.",East Afriea and Rhodesia. 155. September
8 1927. Dr. Vaughan points out that many of her
informants never paid taxes to the colonial
administration (1) while Swann, the first
administrator at Kota-Kota remembered that Johnston
"instructed me to choose my own time for introducing
the hut tax."

N.L.S. mss 7534/692, McMurtie to Salisbury, March 24
1892: mss. 7534/744, Hetherwick to Scott, June 13
1892: mss. 7534/762, Rev. Henry Scott to Dr. Scott,
June 12 1892. This need was especially pressing since
most chiefs just wanted to be left alone, see Johnston
to Salisbury, December 10 1891, F.O. 84/ 2114: Royal
Geographic Society, Sharpe to Keltie, November 30
1894.

Oral Interview, Andrew and Michael Likambale, Likambale
village, July 4 1985.

Hair to Roseberry, November 23 1893, F.O. 403/197.
E.U.L., 717/12, B. Moir to J. Moir, October 12 1895.

”Recapitulation," enclosed in Messrs. Emmanuel and
Simonds to Roseberry, May 26 1893, F.O. 403/185.

Johnston to Roseberry, October 21 1892, F.O. 403/185.
M, August 1892, analyzed this inflation and

87.

89.
90.
91.

92.

93.
94.

95.

96.

97.

98.

99.

100.

101.

60

blamed the administration for the higher costs.

For instance, Sharrer to Simonds, May 4 1892, enclosed
in Emmanuel and Simonds to Salisbury, May 14 1892,
F.O. 403/174.

Foreign Office to Johnston, June 8 1892, F.O. 403/174:
Treasury to Foreign Office, January 25 1893, F.O.
403/185: Treasury to Foreign Office, November 7 1894,
F.O. 403/198.

Johnston to Salisbury, December 10 1891, F.O. 84/2114.
Johnston to snlisbury, May 11 1892, r.o. 403/174.
F.O. to Treasury, December 5 1892, F.O. 403/174.

Royal Commonwealth Society, microfilm of Central
African Archives files, CT 1/16/4, Johnston to
Wetherby, March 13 1892: Johnston to Roseberry,
October 21 1893, F.O. 403/185.

R.C.S., CT 1/16/4, Rhodes to Johnston, April 30 1893.
R.C.S., CT 1/16/4, Johnston to Rhodes, January 8 1893.

Johnston to Rhodes, May 3 1893, enclosed in Johnston to
F.O., may 3 1893, F.O. 403/185.

Foreign Office to Emmanuel and Simonds, June 7 1893,
3.0. 403/185.

Foreign Office to B.S.A.C., August 24 1893, r.o.
403/185.

B.S.A.C. to Foreign Office, October 18 1893: B.S.A.C.
to Foreign Office, November 6 1893, F.O. 403/185.

Memo by Percy Anderson, November 6 1893, F.O. 403/185:
Foreign Office to B.S.A.C., March 17 1894, F.O.
403/197.

Rhodes to Johnston, September 16 1893, enclosed in
Johnston to Roseberry, October 8 1893, F.O. 403/185:
Memo by Percy Anderson, November 19 1894, F.O.
403/198.

Arthur Keppel-Jones, Bhegee and Bhedeeia (Kingston,
1983), 294: Ian Phimeister, untitled manuscript, 90. I

am deeply indebted to Dr. Robin Palmer for allowing me
access to the latter. It is interesting to compare the
B.S.A.C.'s problems in the city with its increasing
demands on Johnston, suggesting that the company

102.

103.

104.

105.

106.

107.

108.

61

simply could not afford to subsidize Malawi any
longer.

Johnston to Roseberry, October 14 1893, F.O. 403/185.

Bridqal Paohai. Land and Politios in Malauil 18.221215
(Kingston, 1978): Krishnamurthy, "Economic

Policy...,': vail, ”The State...'.

As was demonstrated by the Makololo, see vaughan,
'Social...,' 287-288. This concept is especially
important within the context of the contributions made

in Gavin Kitohins. Slass and Eeonomio Shanna in Kenya
(New Haven, 1980).

Macmillan, "The African Lakes Company and the
Makololo."

Actual estate size is hard to determine for reasons
which will soon be clear. However, from a map Johnston
sent to the Foreign Office, the following table can be
made:

Estate Size SMALL. mom: LARGE
Number of Estates 39 20 7

vaughan, 'Social...," 186.

Johnston had established judicial districts in October
1892 in response to dunning notices from the Foreign
Office, but he did not actually establish
administrative districts until February 1894. F.O. to
Johnston, July 26 1892: Johnston to Roseberry, October
11 1892, v.0. 403/174: aritisn central

gazette, I, 2 (February 1, 1894): Malawi National
Archives, Historical Manuscripts AD 1/2/1/1, ”The
Provincial and District Administration, 1891-1979:
Historical Notes.”

Chapter Three
; The Lost Decade:
The Conquest State in Malawi, 1894-1904

The establishment of a colonial administration in
Malawi was a confusing and contradictory process, as even a
a brief review of the period's historiography shows. From
the administration's beginning, some commentators have
argued that the state and its administrators did an
effective job of establishing imperial authority which
benefited the country.1 Others have argued that the state
acted as a virtual stooge of capital and grievously harmed
the indigenous community.2

The early state really fit neither description well.
Instead, it could most accurately be described as a
"conquest state" which introduced "unprecedented levels of
violence" into a territory in order to accomplish its
goals.3 Some dismiss that violence as a necessary byproduct
of the country's subjugation, but it is clear that the
military characteristics of the early administration
defined its very structure and aims.4 The state during this
period revolved around expeditions and the glory obtained
from them. Even when the country became more peaceful,
administrators still restively awaited excuses to take up
the sword again.

The consequences of these military ambitions were
devastating. Administrators paid little heed to mundane
activities, and the state's ability to establish hegemony

foundered as coercion became the only coin of the realm.

62

63

The subjugation and humiliation of indigenous authorities
created by the state's violence further hampered the
development of a new hegemony which could replace the pre-
colonial structures. Finally, the conquest state hampered
the establishment of order by creating a state dependent on
the caprices of its governors rather than the political
imperatives of its departments. Zomba mirrored local
administrators' lassitude by neglecting to create
bureaucracies which could address the colony's problems,
and the governor consequently had to adjudicate issues
about which he had little information or expertise.

These deficiencies were especially serious because of
the territory's economic and social transformations. The
economy experienced a brief boom as planters developed
their estates. But the continued vitality of the country's
economy depended on a number of factors which needed the
state's intervention. Producers needed roads and
agricultural advice as they struggled to get their produce
to market and maintain the land's fertility.More
importantly, the nascent capitalist economy needed
rationalization as various capitalist factions competed for
labor, food and land.

The precarious nature of the economy was best
demonstrated by the dramatic decrease in the number of
settlers. By the mid 1890s, the expatriate population
peaked at a little under four hundred Europeans. But as
planters experienced growing difficulties producing

64

profitable crops, the population began declining as
settlers failed.5 The collapse of the economy obviously
hindered primitive accumulation and left the economy at the
mercy of metropolitan capital far more than before.
Mereover, the continuing economic crisis effectively kept
the north out of the country's economy and left many
Malawians with no means of obtaining a living. Finally, the
state's failure to assist entrepreneurs and producers
caused many Malawians to abandon the bleak prospects of
their homeland for the seemingly sunnier fields in Southern
Africa's mining regions.6
Ironically, the population lost through labor
migration was offset by immigration into the country from
Mozambique. Districts in the lower Shire region experienced
close to a doubling of their population during this era.7
This immigration was not entirely beneficial though. Most
of the new immigrants settled in the colony's southern
region. Simultaneously, migrants from Malawi's central and
northern regions poured south to seek their fortunes. This
influx destroyed the last vestiges of traditional authority
in many districts as diverse people settled together. That
collapse of indigenous cohesiveness became especially
pressing as population pressure, made even worse as Chewa
and Mananja groups moved from their hilltops back onto the
fertile plains, created new problems such as thangata.

These problems were not the only indigenous

difficulties confronting the state. New forces were

65

stirring in Malawi's indigenous community as preachers like
Joseph Booth began sowing dissension.8 Land pressure and
thwarted ambitions ensured that these messages fell on
receptive ears, and control of the indigenous population
gradually became more tenuous than ever.

Zomba's conquest state ensured that none of these
problems would be redressed during this era. Only when the
economy finally collapsed at the turn of the century did
the state begin to respond. But even then, the state
undertook little real reform, and the situation continued
to deteriorate. Thus, the first ten years of the
administration were a lost decade: primitive accumulation
foundered as capitalists received little substantive
government assistance and social relations generated a

restive and potentially rebellious indigenous community.

The state had one asset in 1894, Johnston's land plan.
This agreement produced salutary effects despite the
structural flaws it created. Planters were not only
psychologically reassured, but they also gained assets
which could be mortgaged or sold for badly needed capital.
At least one large company, the Buchanan Brothers,
mortgaged their vast land holdings to two London merchants
shortly after they gained their titles.9 Eugen Sharrer,
another prominent planter, also apparently mortgaged the
vast holdings of the British Central Africa Company to a

Hamburg merchant.10

66

Of course, obtaining capital in such a way only
accentuated the class divisions within the unofficial
community. It was fine for people like Sharrer and the
Buchanan brothers to borrow against their estates: they had
thousands of acres which could be used to raise fairly
substantial amounts of capital.11 But the smaller, and to
some extent, the middling farmers could scarcely hope to get
the same kind of capital by risking their land titles.
Thus, in many respects, the land plan allowed the rich to
get richer while the poor remained the same, accentuating
the inequities within the so-called capitalist class.

Nor was the fractionalization of the capitalist class
the only problem besetting Malawi's commodity exporters.
Although they now had some land security, the planters
still faced a number of other problems. They had little
knowledge and information about tropical agriculture and
faced enormous difficulties in developing profitable crops.
Moreover, a virtual absence of any roads in the territory
ensured that marketing would be difficult even after the
horticultural questions were resolved.

Transportation was probably the region's most pressing
problem. R.C.F. Maughan, then a government oficial, claimed
that:

there were no roads, or, at least, none worthy of the

name. For the most part, nothing more ambitious

connected even important centres than mere tracks cut
through forest, which in the summer or rainy season,
speedily became overgrown with high grass where

indeed, they?were not rendered impassable by surface
water or deep quagmires of adhesive mud.12

67

The planters protested the absence of communication
networks, and even the commissioner conceded that he should
"commence at once" to build roads throughout the
territory.13 But despite the assertions of recent
historians, Johnston typically did nothing.14 Even at the
end of his reign, he still conceded that that ”road-making,
next to native labour, is now the most important problem
for solution."15

Johnston's administration also provided little
horticultural assistance to the planters. Although Johnston
established a scientific department and appointed Alexander
Whyte as the government's botanist, neither Whyte nor his
department did much which could be usefully applied to
estate cultivation. Indeed, things eventually got so bad
that the Qentral,hiriean{2lanter, the planters' newspaper,
complained that it was ”true [that] he [Whyte] has
discovered a 'Wellingtonia Whytei' but of what value is
that to us."16 Moreover, Whyte compounded his problems by
refusing to work with the botanists at Kew Gardens, thus
cutting the territory off from one of the world's best
botanical institutes.17

Of course, it is hard to fault the commissioner
entirely for his administration's failings. The withdrawal
of Rhodes' support had been a serious setback. The
commissioner had liberally borrowed from the charter
company's resources to pay for Malawi's administration, and

the 'disentanglement of accounts" after the estrangement

68

led Whitehall carefully to investigate Johnston's
finances.18 The ensuing inquiry found "financial
irregularity of very grave character," and the Exchequer,
always concerned about finances, consequently insisted
that "the administration would have to reduce its spending
considerably."19 In such circumstances, the commissioner
could scarcely start expensive public works projects or
establish new departments which required even greater
expenditures. '

But keeping costs down only partially explains the
commissioner's failings: the voluntarist imperatives of the
state and Johnston's idiosyncratic personality also played
an enormous role in the administration's structure and
actions. The individual often ruled supreme in the frontier
atmosphere of the colony, and institutions frequently
served the ambitions of men rather than yiee,yerea. Nothing
demonstrates this point quite as well as Johnston's war
policies. Despite his repeated assertions that he could not
find enough money to build decent roads, Johnston mounted
several military expeditions to the north even after the
BSAC left the scene.20 These forays ostensibly aimed at
ending the slave trade on the lake, and certainly no
British subject could then condemn a government servant for
trying to end that noxious trade. Nor were Johnston's
military activities confined to the northern regions:
during the mid 18903, he mounted expeditions against

numerous southern chiefs as he "cashed[ed] in...tho3e

69

'treaties' of 1889."21

Johnston's expeditions kept his discontented officers
pacified. In this age, of course, it is hard to believe
that military operations could keep men happy, but for the
Victorian officers under Johnston's command, war was the
perfect antidote for the misery and drudgery associated
with day to day administration of a strange new colony. And
there can be no doubt that Johnston's officers viewed their
daily duties with considerable opprobrium. The young
Francis Poole complained "I am getting rather tired of this
life, there is nothing much doing."22 Edward Alston
seconded these sentiments by complaining about ”this
blasted, much bucked up country."23 Even Alfred Sharpe,
Johnston's eventual successor, pointed out that the
expeditions were "pleasant little interludes" in an
officer's life.24

Indeed, at least one historian claims that going to
war was an ideal ”form of amusement for the military
officers, and a means of acquiring medals."25 The latter
was as important as the breaking of the tedium because it
provided a way in which officers from various regiments
could "get their [army] promotion."26 Indeed, one early
official advised his brother to join the staff because it
was "an excellent chance for you.'27 The same officer later
advised his mother that "you'll hear that two of your sons
are occupied in that noble design of suppressing the slave

trade [a] fine bit of cant but a good leg up the

70

ladder."28

The officers themselves recognized the value of the
campaigns. One pointed out that "we form a mutual
admiration society."29 Johnston tried to make sure that
"the fighting in [these] small wars becomes boomed at home
so that the combatants may duly get the coveted honours."30
And get the honors they did. Major Edwards and Commander
Cullen, two of Johnston's better officers, received a C.B.
and a C.M.G. respectively.31 Another, the peripatetic
Lieutenant Alston got an even more valuable prize, a letter
from one of the Princesses Imperial.32

These appeals to vanity and ambition were especially
important for Johnston because there were virtually no
other rewards for serving in the colony other than honor
and decoration. Hector Duff, later an acting governor of
the territory, remembered that salaries were so low that
his comrades were "often put to acute embarrassment."33 The
absence of pensions and reasonable home leaves made it even
harder to induce men to serve Queen and Empire in Malawi.
Finally, mortality rates were extremely high, a condition
made more dangerous by the "almost ludicrous" number of
duties an officer had to a33ume.3‘

In these circumstances, the commissioner had to
allocate resources in a manner which would attract the best
civil servants, and building roads in the middle of nowhere

was hardly a3 appealling as earning honors against slave

traders. So the imperative of keeping the administrators

71

happy dictated that the state would undertake a "forward"
policy in the north and an aggressive one in the south
while neglecting to establish wise government anywhere.
Consequently, the-administration fulfilled the peculiar
needs of the conquest state while undermining its ability
to fulfill those of a capitalist state.

It is wrong nonetheless to place all the blame on the
state's structural imperatives. The commissioner's own
personality had much to do with the wanton mismanagement of
the territory. Sir Harry Johnston was certainly an
adventurer and imperialist par exeellenee, but, despite the
assertions of his biographers, he was not much of an
administrator.35 The planters' newspaper complained
bitterly that although "Johnston had unquestionable
literary and artistic ability...we fancy that there are no
two opinions in this country as to his administrative
capabilities.”36 He did little to establish sound
government and drafted legislation almost at whimsy. The
commissioner's prickly personality, characterized by
"flamboyance and asceticism" rather than sobriety and
rationalism, seriously affected the management of Malawi's
early government.37

Johnston's dealings with Kew demonstrate how the
commissioner's sensitive ego could impede sound
administration. The Queen's chief gardener suggested that
Zomba establish a "central experimental station or botanic

station under the eye of the commissioner" in order to help

72

the planters develop marketable export crops.38 But Sir
Harry, oblivious to the interests of his expatriate
charges, took umbrage at the botanists' suggestions: he not
only refused to establish this station but also excluded
the Royal Gardens from the list of institutions to which he
sent botanical specimens. Such exclusion, of course, cut
Malawi off from the Empire's most important agricultural
research institution and thus deprived the government of
precisely the expertise which the planters needed.39

Nor did Johnston show any better judgment with local
affairs. He caused an enormous commotion over the
management of the territory's first library. In 1896,
Wordsworth Poole, an administration official, ordered a
number of books for a literary society he had organized.40
After the books arrived, he asked Johnston if he could
print a catalogue at the Government Printer. Johnston
agreed, but, much to his chagrin, Poole found that Sir
Harry ”'had drawn out a lot of rules for a new library
consulting no one, whilst he was only a private member like
anyone else'."41

Poole complained about this tyrany, and Johnston
replied with a pointedly worded four page memorandum. Poole
responded to this missive by asserting the ”he never asked
anyone whether they wanted it. Just threw his rules at our
heads'.” And when Johnston mentioned that he broached his
scheme because of a "'desire for the common good'," Poole

proclaimed "'Read--by a desire to have the whole thing

73

under my control'."42

Here was the real Sir Harry Johnston: capricious,
tyrannical and extremely sensitive. He was not above
whimsically redesigning affairs to his own advantage even
if it did upset others. Moreover, he reacted with almost
unbelievable pique to the fairly justifiable criticisms
from one of his subordinates. Indeed, a later commentator
declared that "Poole's long preparation of the new library
had come to grief on the rocks of another man's
[Johnston's] pride."43 And although the library incident
was a small affair, it clearly showed how the
commissioner's personality affected his dealings with his
staff.

Unfortunately, Johnston's relations with the settler
community were not much better.44 The commissioner made no
secret of his contempt for the territory's unofficial
community. He complained that “all this trouble and worry
with the Shire Highlands planters and missionaries is at
bottom based on one fact--that they are Scotch and they
want to make the whole country Scotch, and if possible to
do it with English money."45 Johnston's antipathy became so
great that he eventually proclaimed that he 'intend[ed] to
fight them...by starting my own newspaper--The British
central Afrioa mm“ Of course, the Sazette could
also be used for other purposes, most notably establishing
a record which Johnston could dictate. One official pointed
out "that reports [in the gazette] never tell the whole

74

truth [and] nothing but the truth. They are made to suit
various ends. A little care in writing makes things appear
so different.”47

This comment demonstrates another of Johnston's less
appealing traits, his disregard for the truth. The same
writer later pointed out that "there is something intensely
pathetic about the way that historians like Freeman
insisted that they wrote out the truth as in all cases they
had gone to the original documents. One can imagine some
stupid old historian taking infinite pains to get to the
original [Johnston's]. . .dispatches and thinking that at
last he had hit upon the truth, the plain and
uncontroverted truth."48 And there can be little doubt that
Johnston's original documents described the commissioner's
desires as much as actual fact. Both his dealings with the
BSAC and his basis for the forward policy showed a
duplicitous side to Johnston's character. Combined with his
thin-skinned nature, this combination was deadly for sound
government.

Johnston did provide some assistance to estate owners.
His military campaigns brought the chiefs into line, and he
gradually increased the number of Africans required to pay
hut taxes.49 His success not only shifted the burden of
finance to the indigenous community but also forced more
Africans to participate in the cash economy, mostly as
laborers. He also insisted that customs duties be cut so

that the planters could import vital goods at a lower cost.

75

But these policies took place at a time when the planters
were already in crisis, and their impact has generally been
overestimated.so

Johnston's admitted failures demonstrate this
historiographical tendency. Probably the most notable
example of this inconsistency was the commissioner's
complete inability to solve the labor crisis besetting the
territory. Johnston himself admitted that managing the
labor situation was crucial for the well-being of the
estate sector, and he even implemented a number of
laws which were designed to regulate the hiring of labor,
especially Ngoni workers from the central region.51

Historians have traditionally described this
legislation as an important benchmark in the history of the
country, claiming that it helped the planters gain the
upper hand.52 But finding evidence to substantiate such a
claim is extremely difficult. Europeans complained that
'the...labor regulations threaten unless they are modified
or removed to press very heavily on the planting interests
if not to extinguish it in many places."53 Responding to a
deputation of planters, the commissioner later commented
that he "had no intention of 3ugge3ting...that labourers
were unfairly treated” when he drafted his labor
regulations.54

Johnston compounded these problems by refusing to help
regulate the Shire ferries on which many of the laborers

from outside the estate region arrived. This issue was

76

especially important because the more affluent planters
were sending their gapitggfi to hire workers as soon as they
stepped off one of the ferries, thus reducing the labor
available for smaller planters and accentuating the already
tense relations within the European community. Even the
gazette, hardly the most objective source, reported that
"unfair play has taken place on the Upper Shire."55 But
Johnston's only response to these reports was a survey
asking whether planters wanted the ferries to be government
run, and he failed to follow through with any other action
or regulations. ,

Johnston's rather chaotic administration rapidly
eroded the planters' faith in the state. Although
historians insist that the official and unofficial
communities worked hand in hand, much evidence suggests
that very real antagonisms were developing between the
two.56 The state further accentuated the differences
between the two groups by placing the capital at Zomba,
some forty odd miles away from the business center at
Blantyre. A serious schism amongst the planters kept them
from unifying against the commissioner for a while, but by
1895, it was apparent that a real rupture between state and
European society had occurred.

The settlers' newspaper, the an;zgl_5fiz1g n Elantgz,
demonstrated the antagonism by lambasting Johnston and his
administration on several occasions. At one point, R.S.

Hynde, the paper's fiery editor, pointed out that "the

77

administration...has undoubtedly been mostly of 'whims and
fads'.'57 By 1897, the paper bitterly complained that
the B.C.A. administration has not encouraged the
development of its territory nor has it been
overmindful of the interests of the residents in it.
The administration so far as promoting the welfare and
advancement of British Central Africa has been, we
regret to say, a failure. This is in no small degree
due to the rule to autocracy inaugurated by
Commissioner Johnston...that is a disease that kills
every effort and every attempt of private
enterprise.58
Hynde also added that "Residents and planters in B.C.A....
would hail a change...which would give them a new lease of
life and some chances of realizing their first estimate of
the possibilities of Nyasaland." One of Johnston's own
officers underlined these declarations by pointing out that
"in the minds of some of our residents there is
unfortunately a strong prejudice against all members of the
administration and should an Archangel be ill-advised
enough to accept the collectorship...I have no doubt that
he would be abused like a pickpocket within a week."59
It is not hard to understand why estate owners had
such violent prejudices against the state. In late 1895,
one of the territory's prominent planters complained that
”we never make money on anything--only slave away + make
nothing...I can't see that we will be better in another
year than now."60 Indeed, things were so bad that Sir Harry
began to draw up plans calling for the mass immigration of
Indian peasants to replace the planters as the principal

producers of export commodities.61

78

But the obstinate planters were luckier than anyone
could imagine. Armed with their mortgagable land grants,
they borrowed enough money to start up coffee production.
And as their estates began producing, a temporary
aberration in the world coffee market allowed them to eke
out meager profits.52 The period of relative prosperity
immediately had salutary effects. The unofficial community
settled the quarrels within its midst and finally
established a unified association, the Nyasaland Chamber of
Commerce and Agriculture.

Africans also began to particpate in the economy much
more.63 The most lucrative activity was producing food for
estate laborers, and it soon became apparent that many
Africans were living on food production. The Blantyre
resident reportesthat his indigenous subjects could
"supply their wants and pay their taxes by the sale of a
few fowls or a little grain."64 The West Shire resident
sadded that an African in his district could "sell
foodstuffs so well that he can get calico and money without
having to work for it."65 A year later, the same resident
pointed out that his subjects could earn a 100% profit by
selling food in Blantyre.66

This kind of production initially created a few
problems for the local economy. It reduced the amount of
local discretionary labor available to estate owners.
Moreover, it put a strain on the local money supply as

Africans began demanding cash instead of calico for their

79

produce.67 Nevertheless, it eventually had some salutary
effects on estate production. One of the most important
reasons for Africans' refusal to work in the southern
region was "the food question."68 As indigenous production
answered that question, more people from the north and
central regions began to trek into the southern region and
settle on estates.

Ironically, the development of this cash economy
formed strong bonds between the planters and the indigenous
community.69 A pattern soon emerged in which Africans and
unofficial expatriates developed a close relationship
beyond government purview. Part of this phenomenon stemmed
from the absence of colonial officials on the ground: part
of it emerged as a result of the thangata systems and the
recruitment of workers from the central region for
settlement on estates. But whatever the reasons, it
established an economic system in which the government was
only marginally involved and in which both Europeans and
Africans viewed administrative interference with distrust
and distaste.

Political events also seemed to auger well for the
estate sector too. In 1897, the planters' bet; ngizg, sir
Barry Johnston, finally left for Uganda and was replaced by
his lieutenant, Sir Alfred Sharpe. Sharpe's appointment was
welcomed with "great hopes," and the Central African
Elgntg: noted that "Sharpe has done his best under great

disadvantages and no man can do more."70

80

But these expectations were bound to be disappointed--
for Sharpe was scarcely different from his predecessor.71
He complained about the "obstinate, malicious, unruly,
troublesome, ungrateful white population of this
protectorate," and added that "it is the whites who cause
all one's anxieties here! They are all at sixes and sevens
with one another. Also + only agree in one thing-e211 to
oppose everything in the shape of government.'72 Mbreover,
the new commissioner began his term with little stomach
left for life in Malawi. Even before he took office, he
complained that "I am beginning to feel that I have been in
Central Africa long enough.“ As he departed for home a year
later, he prayed "please providence I may never return
here."73

Nor was Sharpe's distaste for the local environment
his only drawback. Like Johnston, he was more of an
adventurer than an administrator. Indeed, he liked hunting
elephants so much that he crippled his shoulder by shooting
large caliber guns.74 His memoirs are replete with tales of
tracking down massive pachyderms, but embarrassingly
slender about the actual affairs of state in East Africa.75
In short, there was little to indicate that his
administration would be much different from that of his
immediate predecessor.

If anything, Sharpe proved to be even less diligent
than Johnston. Through his administration's early years

about all he managed to do was to request pay increases76

81

One of the worst results of his inactivity was a continued
erosion of traditional authority in rural areas. Instead of
working with the chiefs, Sharpe refused to grant them any
judiciary powers and instead decided to allow ”the British
officers of the Protectorate" to administer justice.77 This
decision simply expanded the void created by the
establishment of colonial rule. Sharpe himself recognized
this problem and pointed out that ”during the past year
there has been a marked diminution of the autocratic power
formerly held by native chiefs."78 Two years later, another
officer commented that ”the village chiefs have been
deprived of nearly all power."79

Unfortunately, any dimunition of traditional authority
endangered the state's ability to maintain order. The
administration on the ground was at best minimal throughout
this period. Officers were not required to know indigenous
languages or customs, and therefore were scarcely able to
make important decisions about the fate of many people.
Moreover, the gapitggg in the government were hardly the
kind of people who engendered respect among either the
indigenous or the European community.

This state of affairs did not go unnoticed. In 1899,
Captain Close, a Foreign Office official sent Lord
Salisbury a devastating memorandum about conditions in the
Protectorate to Lord Salisbury.8° Close began by averring
that ”most of the accounts of British Central Africa...are

so inaccurate, that...it may not be out of place to notice

82

the following facts." He then pointed out that "three of
the most important districts were...administered by
notorious drunkards' and that "the Protectorate has done
little or nothing towards improving the communications. The
roads are not creditable to the administration. The public
works department, in the charge, I believe, of another
drunkard, appears inefficient." Close further asserted that
Malawi was ruled by "an administration which at present has
done nothing to improve the country."

But Close was also concerned about the
administration's insensitivity towards the unofficial
community. He pointed out that the territory's survey
department was virtually useless and that its high fees
hindered the sale of land, an important method of acquiring
capital. He also claimed that Zomba was "a most unsuitable
place for the head-quarters of government” because of its
remoteness from the centers of trade and agriculture. He
ultimately lambasted the administration as a "Government by
officials for officials, who waste much paper in writing to
each other, who frame ingenious and unnecessary
regulations, and the nett [sic] result of whose labour is
nil.”

Even more ominous, though, were Close's comments on
the estate sector. After claiming that ”so far as can be
ascertained nearly every planter is bankrupt," Close
claimed that "it would be a questionable proceeding to

encourage whitemen to engage in planting.” Of course, there

83

had been signs that the economy had been in trouble for
some time. Coffee production had tailed off dramatically
because the plants yielded fewer beans as they matured.81
Simultaneously coffee prices had been falling in London as
Brazil coffee finally recovered its dominance in the world
economy.82 And even as the colony's most important
commodity became less renumerative, employers from south of
the Zambezi began recruiting labor and thus driving up the
cost of production.83
But the early signs were only a mild forecast of what
eventually happened when drought again gripped the country
and Rhodesian mines began fullproduction. The coincidence
of these events practically wrecked the planters, and they
begged Sharpe to reduce the duties imposed on goods so that
they could husband their meager capital.84 But the new
commissioner, upset about editorials in the Cent; 1 African
Tings, simply asserted that ”settlers in British Central
Africa can in no way complain of heavy duties."85
The unofficial community's internal divisions allowed
Sharpe to maintain this kind of sangfzgid. In what would
eventually become a characteristic of hard times, the
planters divided against themselves as they cast about for
ways to solve their dilemma. The best example of this
occurred when the Chamber of Commerce requested that the
state set up an experimental station for the cultivation of
tobacco and hire an expert for that commodity.86 This was

an eminently good suggestion since it was clear that

84

Malawian agriculturists needed to find an alternative to
coffee.

Before Sharpe could even consider this proposal, the
Mlanje Planters Association, led by Henry Brown, protested
that the appointment of a tobacco expert would be unfair
because ”money has already been spent by us in raising
tobacco crops."87 Brown did mention that the commissioner
might approve a bonus for the first planter to sell a ton
of tobacco on the London market, but this was not even a
well disguised attempt to gain a pig in the poke since the
Mlanje planters already had much tobacco on the London
market.

Such disunity was devastating for the settlers because
it afforded the state virtually unlimited political
autonomy. The administration could freely pursue its own
prerogatives and ignore the demands of the planters. This
situation was especially galling because settler dissension
inevitably reached its acme during periods of economic
hardship, precisely the time when the capitalists most
needed the state's assistance.

The state did not hesitate to take advantage of its
autonomy. For example, as the drop in Malawi's coffee
production caused revenue to decline, the Foreign Office,
concerned about the administration's continued deficits,
subsequently refused to allow Sharpe to hire a coffee
expert because it was not the ”proper function of the

Protectorate administration."88 Instead, the Foreign Office

85

decided that the producers should hire their own man since
acquiring an expert was ”designed immediately to benefit
the coffee industry, [and] might very well be undertaken by
some cooperative effort on the part of the planters and
firms directly concerned.” In short, the imperial nggng
ngrangi dictated that the state should look after itself
and entrepreneurs after themselves.

Imperial policy was not the only problem confronting
Malawi's unofficial community: the state's own ramshackle
organization made it even more difficult for the planters
to obtain government assistance. Until the administration
could actually take care of all the duties with which it
was entrusted, there could be no thought of it assuming
extra responsibilities. Thus, even as the the economy
collapsed, Sharpe was still hiring district residents so
that he could actually make direct rule work, a diversion
of spending from economic areas which needed immediate
attention.89 ’

The state's prerogatives were not only material. The
commissioner's ambition caused him to delay reporting the
full extent of the crisis. For instance, he reported that
1899-1900 showed a "a satisfactory advance...in the
development of new exports” and that "several
industries...give substantial profits" even though he
proposed military reductions because of a drop in revenue,
especially from customs duties.90 Colonel Manning, Sharpe's

stand-in while he was on home leave, continued this

87

their leaders. Such a dimunition of authority naturally made
efficient administration even more difficult. As it was,

the district officials scarcely made any impression in many
parts of the country. Without chiefs helping to maintain
order, there was little doubt that political stability in
rural areas would be more mythical than real.

Sharpe, however, had to resolve continuing personnel
problems before he could establish administrative authority
in rural Malawi. The commissioner had to fire a clerk
because he was illiterate and freely commented that at
least one of his officers was not interested in his own
district.98 He also reported that "all departments in this
protectorate are suffering from being shorthanded at the
present date."99 He backed up this assertion by
telegramming that "unless vacancies are filled as they
occur great disorganization" will result.100

The history of the legal department illustrates this
point. The first judge in the territory left in 1899 and
was replaced by an ambitious legal authority named J.J.
Nunan.101 Much to his surprise, Nunan found the legal
department in a shambles. Nunan not only lacked an adequate
staff, but he also found that he occasionally had to
prosecute cases which he judged!102 Even after the state
hired a prosecutor to avoid this situation, the new man
found himself forced to act as judge while Nunan was on
home leave.

Sharpe also had problems with his indigenous

86

duplicity by claiming that ”the affairs of this
protectorate, inspite of the very serious state of the
labour market, are still flourishing.'91

But not even the most optimistic reporter could
continue to cover-up the impending crisis. By 1901, even
Sharpe had to admit that "the commercial development of the
country itself has already begun to decrease." By then,
exports had dropped from £79,349 to 138,723, and imports
had also fallen some 130,000.92 A famine which required
relief compounded the country's problems even more.93 In
this environment, the number of bankruptcies increased so
much that the judiciary department's work doubled.94

Things became so bad that even Sharpe felt constrained
to act. In July 1901, he suggested a two tier tax system.95
Under this plan, Africans had to pay six shillings a year
in hut tax unless they worked for a EurOpean for a month.
In such cases, the tax payer would be given a three
shilling rebate. Such a policy was clearly designed to
encourage more Africans to work for the beleaguered
planters.96 The plan also allowed Sharpe to collect more
revenue from the indigenous population and thus avert a
dramatic decrease in total revenues.

The new tax policy accelerated the decline of the
chiefs' authority in the villages. Africans were outraged
by the doubling of their taxes and protested
vociferously.97 As it became clear that their chiefs could
do virtually nothing to assist them, they lost faith in

employees. For example, when a battalion of Malawian
soldiers marched through the southern region in the fall of
1902, the troops ran amok, looting and raping almost
indiscriminately.103 The unofficial community raised a
storm of protest about this behavior. They felt that it
endangered the good relations which they had worked so hard
to establish with the indigenous community and caused
unneccessary turmoil and anxiety. R.H. Hynde, the nygfialgng
Tings founder and editor, complained that this incident was
illustrative of numerous abuses. He even claimed that
”every case of arrest by police without a white man being
present is accompanied by stealing."104 He also added that
this rampage was not an isolated incident and that many
local people were terrified of the government's gapitggg.

But Sharpe was not having any of it. He merely pointed
out that "the trifling incidents in connection with the
transit of the native troops through the Protectorate have
been seized upon by those inimially disposed towards the
Administration..as a reason for attacking military officers
and officials generally."105 He dismissed the other
allegations by commenting that the "accusations were
greatly exaggerated and largely incorrect." So, in the end,
the state antagonized the settlers and Africans even more
by disregarding the very real abuses of government
authority.

The administration was not, however, completely

insensitive to the Protectorate's economic needs. At the

89

turn of the century it tried to bolster the economy by
including Malawi in the new South African customs union and
restricting indigenous emigration outside to mining
regions.106 The customs union issue was especially
important because membership would provide a close and
potentially lucrative market for the territory's beleagured
agriculturists, especially the tobacco farmers. If the
administration could gain access, farmers could sell their
produce in the south rather than shipping it to the United
Kingdom: if it could not, the high duties on goods would
effectively bar Malawi's commodities from South Africa.

Ironically, the customs union issue catalyzed
dissension among the expatriates, again demonstrating how
capitalist fractions immobilized the unofficial community
at crucial times.107 The planters, of course, were all for
inclusion, but traders and transporters feared that their
undercapitalized enterprises would be swamped by better
financed South African companies. Thus, even as the state
pushed for the customs union, the settlers divided over the
issue. '

Their disunity was especially debilitating because
Sharpe could not overcome the reservations of the Colonial
Office. The policy makers were far more concerned with
developing South Africa's agriculture than with helping
Malawi, which was a Foreign Office protectorate.108 Whether
or not support of Malawi's capitalist community could have

guaranteed inclusion in the customs union is obviously

90

moot, but clearly the settlers' inability to unify and
lobby Whitehall made Sharpe's efforts more onerous.

To his credit, Sir Alfred was equally concerned about
the loss of labor to the region's expanding mining
activities and fought vociferously to keep Malawi's workers
at home.109 Ironically, one of his chief opponents in this
struggle was none other than Sir Harry Johnston, who
decided that Malawi was an ideal spot from which to draw
labor for the southern mines. In an uncharacteristically
perceptive letter, Sharpe complained that Sir Harry's plans
would only ensure that the Protectorate's 'industry...would
be doomed."110 The commissioner backed up his letter by
informing Whitehall he had been issuing instructions to
discourage outside recruiters for the "last three or four
years.”

By 1902, however, the commissioner was beginning to
concede defeat. Noting that there was "some decrease in
planting activity,” he admitted that he might have to
devise a labor emigration plan if the indigenous
inhabitants continued to express a desire to go.111 As it
became clear that ”at present the industries of the country
are not very flourishing," Sharpe agreed to send Milner
some "3000 or 4000' men.112 Sharpe tried to soften the
blow by adding that the plan could only be implemented
"provided that local needs for labour do not increase.” Yet
he knew that the settlers would be apoplectic and covered
himself by pointing out that they were "not of a very high

91

class, and are as a rule, and as a matter of policy,
opposed to all forms of Government and control.”

Sharpe's decision was momentous. It officially
sanctioned the idea of using Malawi as a labor reservoir
for the southern mines and established an economic
tradition which persists today.113 It also occasioned a
major retrenchment in the colony's systems of production.
For as the state decided that it could not stem the flow of
free labor from the territory, various landowners decided
to legitimize labor tenancy so that their supply of workers
would not be threatened by mass emigration.

Labor tenancy had been an established practice since
the Protectorate's founding. The most notorious system,
known as thangata, was at least nominally a legacy of the
pre-colonial era, when chiefs coopted the labor of their
followers. Acquiring labor through this practice had
questionable legal standing, and Johnston had tried to
thwart it by placing non-disturbance clauses in the
settlers' claim certificates. However, the clauses had
little effect on estate activities, and planters still
forced their tenants to work. But coercion was
theoretically illegal in many cases, and the question of
indigenous rights always made tenuous the future of labor
tenancy. The massive labor emigration at the turn of the
century forced large planters to adopt thangata on a
grander scale, forcing the government to act in the spring

Of 1903.

92

The first landmark was a court case, Supervisor of
Native Affairs versus Blantyre and East Africa.114 The case
focused on what indigenous rights Johnston had established
in his certificates of claim. Typically, the judge found
that ”there is no direct evidence as to the intention of
the administration at the time this clause was inserted."
The magistrate nevertheless concluded that it would be
impossible to determine who was originally excluded from
thangata in the certificates of claim and suggested that
”the interest of the native will be best served by a new
arrangement by which, without distinction between old
occupiers and new settlers, he engages to pay a moderate
rent." Thangatg had survived its first test and actually
was legalized for the first time.

After the court case, both the Chamber of Commerce and
the state established land commissions to investigate the
issue further.115 Both concluded that labor tenancy
required new legislation, and Zomba rapidly enacted the
Native Lands Ordinance.116 This law followed Nunan's lead
and stipulated that all planters leave aside ten percent of
their land for indigenous allotments. In return for
occupying this land, African tenants would have to pay 4/-,
approximately one month's work, a year to the landlord. if
they could not pay, they would have to work for the estate
owner.

In one stroke, the planter community gained an

important source of labor. Inanggta was now accepted in

93

law, and the minimal protection offered by Johnston had
been swept aside. Moreover, the state pressured indigenous
inhabitants into becoming tenants by restricting their
ability to buy land. Since the Shire Highlands were
overcrowded, the effect of limiting land sales virtually
forced people to live on estates. Africans had to move onto
the estates as the population increased. And so the estate
owners finally got the state to sanction a policy which
provided them with a steady stream of labor.

It was at best a Pyrrhic victory. The new law still
did not address the needs of smaller proprietors whose
estates did not have enough room to house all their
workers. It also destoyed chiefly authority by undermining
their capacity to intercede with the land owners. Moreover,
it established a system that less than a dozen years later
catalyzed a serious rebellion in the territory.

Most importantly, however, it tacitly admitted that
capitalism's first efforts had failed miserably. Abandoning
the consumption of free labor in favor of labor tenancy was
a serious regression in relations of production and
indicated that the planters needed to accumulate more
capital in non-capitalist production before they could
begin another attempt at primitive accumulation. Many
settlers openly recognized this and lamented their naviete.

The state also bore an ugly responsibility. Contrary
to the assertions of several historians, Zomba had refused

to assist the settlers in several critical areas.117 It had

94

not provided agricultural assistance, failed to resolve the
labor issue and neglected any infrastructural improvement.
The central authorities had instead relied on an almost
surreal faith that if they said things were fine, they
would be.

The administration's inaction might have been more
comprehensible if an orderly state had emerged, but even
after emphasizing its own prerequisites the state had
failed to establish any real political order. The power of
the chiefs had been smashed, but district administration
was so haphazard that the countryside had no real order.118
Various departments were undermanned, and employees were at
best roues and adventurers. African employees continued to
act so cavalierly that they antagonized both European and
African subjects.

Thus, the protectorate's first ten years were an
unmitigated disaster. The economy had failed, the official
and unofficial communities were at loggerheads, and
authority over the indigenous population had essentially
disappeared. Virtually nothing had been gained in over ten
years. The only advantage was that things could not get any
worse, at least in theory. But only practice would tell if

that were really true.

EHDNQIEE

1. For instance, see Hanna, Ihsxflfiginninglll: C.A. Baker,

19mm We (Zomba. 1971): and P-A.
Cole-King, "Transport and Communication in Malawi to

95

1891, with a summary to 1918,” in B. Pachai, ed., The
Earlx.nisterx sf Malari-

2. The best examples are Krishnamurthy, "Economic
Policy..,”; Myambo, ”The Shire...,”; and Vail, "The
State. 0 O”.

3. John Lonsdale, "The Conquest State of Kenya," in J. de
Moor 8 H. Wesseling, eds.,Qelenial Warfare (Leiden,
1986), 1. I have borrowed this term from a manuscript
generously given to me by Professor John Lonsdale. At
the time he indicated that it should be cited as I
have. Unfortunately, I have never tracked that volume
down and am unsure whether it has ever been published.

4. R. Tangri, "African Reaction and Resistance to the Early
Colonial Situation in Malawi, 1891-1915, ” genrral
‘Aeeeeiarien, Pamphlet # 25 (1968),
2; and Robin Palmer, "Johnston and Jameson: A
Comparative Study in the Imposition of Colonial Rule,"

in Pachai. ed-. The Earlx.flisferxiil. 306-

5. The reason for this drop was the collapse of coffee as a
crop. Unfortunately, little has been published about
the country's export trade, and the best summary
remains Baker's somewhat suspect study, see C.A. Baker,
"Malawi's Exports: An Economic History,” in B. Pachai,
G.W. Smith and R. Tangri, eds., Malagi Rae; and
Rreeent (Zomba, 1968). Ironically, Dr. Tangri told me
that one of the conclusions of the conference which
produced this study was a pressing need for an
economic history of Malawi, something which the
historiography still lacks. Population is also an
understudied phenomena, and I have used Robin Palmer's
figure for maximum European settlement, see Palmer,
"Johnston and Jameson...,' 295. Perhaps the best way
in which to observe the drop in European population is
by comparing addresses in the territory's postal
directories in 1899 and 1901. Doing so demonstrates
that numerous planters left between these years as

their estates fell. see British.£enfral.bfrisa Reetal

Direstele.1§22 (Zomba. 1899): and British.§enfral
nireereryrm (Zomba, 1901). To the

Mfgatal
best of my knowledge, them only copies of these
directories are in the Royal Commonwealth Society's
library.

6. The story of Malawi's labor emigration has been most
extensively told by Robert Boeder and F. E. Sanderson.
See Boeder, ”The Effects of Labor Emigration on Rural
Life in Malawi,“ Rural Afirieana, 20, I (Spring, 1973);
Boeder, ”Malawians Abroad," Ph.D. Thesis, Michigan
State University, 1974; Sanderson, "The Development

96

of Labour Migration from Nyasaland," {earnal‘er
arriean , 2, 2 (1961): and Sanderson,
"Nyasaland.Migrant Labour in British Central Africa,
1890-1939," M.A. Thesis, University of Manchester,

1960. See also, Mandala, ERIK and QQDLIQLLLI. 115.

7. As both Mandala and Schoffeleers have pointed out, see
J.M. Schoffeleers, "From Socialization to Personal
Enterprise: A History of the Nomi Labor Societies in
the Nsanje District of Malawi, c. 1891-1972," Rural
Afrieana, 20, I (Spring, 1973), 13: and Mandala, Kerk
an; QQBEIQLLL&I 95. Perhaps the biggest impetus for
this change was the imposition of Portuguese rule in
neighboring Mozambique. As Lusitania's representatives
exerted local control for the first time, at least one
Lomwe historian claims that "the people suffered
greatly....They were butchered without mercy: even
women, boys and girls and little children became
victims of this savagery." Under these conditions,
thousands fled to Malawi to escape, and one of my
informants bluntly declared that his people came to
the Bruce estate because it was better than

Mozambique. See B. Pachai, ed., Memeire‘ef_a,ua1axian1

mmmmmgzmmm
(Blantyre, 1971), 43: Oral interview, Edward Sapato,

Yavi village; July 10 1985.

8. Booth's influence is best demonstrated in George
Shepperson and Tom Price, Independent Afriean
(Edinburgh, 1958). For more on the influence of
Booth's students, such as Eliot Kamwana and Peter
Nyambo, see Harry W. Langworthy, "Peter Nyambo of
Malawi, c. l884-c. 1970,” mimeo, n.d.: W. Ndopa
Chijere Chirwa, "Masokwa Elliot Kenan Kamwana Chirwa:
His Religious and Political Activities, and the
Effects of Kamwanaism in South-East Nkhata Bay, 1908-
56," History Seminar, Chancellor College, March 12
1984: and John McCracken, ”African Politics in
Twentieth Century Malawi," in Ranger, ed., Aepeere,ef

minimum-

9. Lonrho Company Files, Limbe, Land Title # 869, September
10 1902.

10. Malawi Department of Lands, Valuation and water, Lands
Register, Deed 88, Revd James Rankin to A.J.P.
Meezies, April 23 1902. In both these cases, the
mortgages were recorded in later land sales.

11. Indeed, both the Buchanan and Sharrer holdings
eventually became the basis for large Malawian
companies, Blantyre 8 East Africa and British Central
Africa Company, which played important roles in the

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.
17.
18.

19.

20.

21.

22.
23.
24.
25.

26.

97

colonial economy.

R-C-F- Meaghan. Nyasaland in the Nineties (London.
1935), 151.

£entral.bfriean Gazette. II. 7 (June. 1895)-
Johnston actually made this statement at a May 23rd
meeting at Blantyre about the Zomba-Chiromo road. From
personal experience, the author is confident that
neither the Commissioner nor his successors ever did
much about this road.

Most notably Baker and Cole-King, see Baker, JennerenLa

gaminierrarien, 46-54: and Cole-King, 'Transport...,”
86-87. ‘

"Report on Trade and General Conditions...," enclosed
in Johnston to Salisbury, April 29 1896, F.O. 403/229.

Central.Afriean.Blanfer II. 7. December 1 1897.
M.N.A., A 1/1/1, New to Foreign Office, June 4 1895.

Foreign Office to Treasury, July 4 1394, r.o. 403/198.

Treasury to Foreign Office, August 16 1894, F.O.
403/198.

As the numerous entries in Poole's and Alston's diaries
demonstrate.

White, Magemere, 85: Dachs points out that these
expeditions Came later because Johnston's initial
weakness forced him to crush the Yao and others
piecemeal, see A.J. Dachs, "Politics of Collaboration:
Imperialism in Practice," in Pachai, ed., The Early

meter); 21! mm. 288-
M.N.A., H.M. PO 2/1, F. Poole to Mother, 18-3-98.

M.N.A., H.M. AL 1/1/1, Alston Diaries, June 1 1896.
Royal Geographic Society, Sharpe to Keltie, May 1 1905.
Macmillan, "The Origins...,' 373.

M.N.A., H.M. PO 1/1/1, W. Poole to Mother, June 14
1895. Indeed, even imperial historians concede the
value of military expeditions for this purpose. For
instance, L.H. Gann and peter Duignan claim that
"there was plenty of friction betwen Johnston and his
subordinates} but none suggested that a professional
military man would be disgraced by serving under a

27.

28.

29.

30.

31.

32.

33.

34.

35.

36.
37.
38.

39.

40.

98

self-taught soldier who had never worn a uniform,"

L-H- Gann & Peter Duignan. The.Bulere.ef Brifieh
Afriea (Stanford, 1978), 85.

M.N.A., H.M. PO 1/1/1, W. Poole to F. Poole, January 8
1896.

M.N.A., H.M. PO 1/1/1, W. Poole to Mother, January 16
1896.

M.N.A., H.M. PO 1/1/1, W. Poole to Mother, January 16
1896.

M.N.A., H.M. PO 1/1/1, W. Poole to Isabelle, April 30
1896.

M.N.A., H.M. AL 1/1/1, Alston Diaries, Sept 15 1896.

M.N.A., H.M. AL 1/1/1, Alston Diaries, April 6 1896. In
our rather jaded age, such a letter might not mean
much, but for a hot-blooded young Victorian, the
Princess' favor was wonderful indeed.

sir Hector Duff. Airiean.£mall.£hen. 24.

N.L.S., Mss 7874, ff 35-38, ”Medical Report," by Kerr
Cross, n.d.: Maughan, uyaealangrrr, 14.

Most notably Baker and Oliver. See Oliver, The
Seranbleiii. and Baker. Jehneten_e
Palmer has a more balanced view, but still hesitates
to stress his incompetence. See Palmer, "Johnston and
Jameson...,' 229-230.

central,Afriean.£lanter II. 222. August 16 1896-
M.N.A., H.M. PO 1/1/1, W. Poole to Mother, June 11 1896.

M.N.A., A 1/1/1, Kew to Foreign Office, June 4 1895.

Johnston to Kimberley, October 13 1894, enclosed in Kew
Gardens to Foreign Office, October 9 1894, F.O.
403/198.

Extract from James A. Edwards, "Storm over Zomba: The
Tale of Nyasaland's First Library,"L1hrary
Aseeeiefien ef Bhedesia and.8xaealand Nexsletfer
(February 1963), 3-12. A typed manuscript of this
interesting article is contained in the Society of
Malawi's photographic collection, and I suspect it was
done by that group's emeritus librarian, Eric Emtage.
Mr. Emtage's fine historical sense and commitment to
Malawian history remove many reservations I would

41.
42.
43.

44.

45.

46.

47.

48.

49.

50.

51.

52.

53.
54.

55.

99

normally have about using such a source.
Edwards, ”Storm...,' 6.
Edwards, 'Storm...," 8.
Edwards, 'Storm...,' 10.

Palmer points out that at least one settler found him
"'a thoroughly unlikeable person'," Palmer, "Johnston
and Jameson...,” 299. For more on the official
unofficial schism, see Andrew Ross, "The African-'A
Child or a Man':-The Quarrel Between the Blantyre
Mission of the Church of Scotland and the British
Central Africa Administration, 1890-1905," in Stokes
and Brown, eds., The Zanheeian Paar. Gann and Duignan
also imply that Johnston's relations with the less
than satisfactory by claiming that Johnston
established his capital at Zomba because he
"appreciated the blessing of living at some distance
from the Scottish traders and preachers at Blantyre,"

Gann 8 Duignan. British. 163.

Royal Commonwealth Society, microfilm, CT 1/16/4,
Johnston to Cawston, December 9 1893.

CT 1/16/4/1, Johnston to Rhodes, June 7 1893, quoted in
Ross, "The Origins...,' 199.

M.N.A., H.M. PO 1/1/1, W. Poole to Mother, November 13
1895.

M.N.A., H.M. PO 1/1/1, W. Poole to MOther, November 13
1895.

Johnston to Salisbury, August 5 1895, F.O. 403/213.

Most notably by Krishnamurthy, vail and Mandala, see
Krishnamurthy, "Economic Policy...,”: Mandala, Kerk
ang_§enrre1: and Vail, "The State...,'.

Johnston to Roseberry, January 12 1894, F.O. 403/197.

Two of the best examples are Krishnamurthy, "Economic

Policy...,”: and Simon Myambo, "The Shire Highlands
Plantations...".

M, no. 73, March 1894.
negrarer, II, 22, December 1 1896.

m, II, 10, July 15 1895.

56.

57.
58.
59.
60.
61.

62.

63.

64.

65.
66.

67.

68.

69.

70.

71.

72.

73.

74.

100

As I have pointed out elsewhere. See Tony Woods, "The
Myth of the Capitalist Class," Hie;ery,1n,51r1ea 16
(1989).

£15121. December 1 1896.

m, June 15 1897.

Letter from L.T. Moggridge, £&AL2&I April 26 1896.

E.U.L. Gen 717/12, B. Moir to Jean, October 12 1895.

Johnston to Kimberley, June 1 1895, F.O. 403/213.

C.A. Baker, "Malawi's Exports...," 83. The aberration
involved a precipitous fall in coffee production in
Brazil, which forced up the price of the bean in world
markets and thus gave greater profits to Malawian
producers.

vaughan, ”Social and Economic Change...," 158.

"Extracts from Mr. MCMaster's Report...," flagrargr, III
5, March 1 1896.

'Extracts...,' BIQIAIQI. III 8, April 15 1896.
”Extracts...," BIQIAIQI. IV 8, May 1 1897.

Royal Geographic Society, Sharpe Correspondence, Sharpe
to Keltie, October 12 1896.

Vaughan, "Social and Economic...,' 184: for more on
this topic, see Megan vaughan, "Food Production in
Early Colonial Southern Malawi," History Seminar,
Chancellor College, December 16 1981.

As I have suggested elsewhere. See Tony WOods,
"Planters, Administrators and Chiefs," IDEEIDQIIQDQL

Jeurnal efmgtalxnieterx. 10. 3 (November 1989).

genera, June 15 1897.
Despite the assertions of his biographer. See Robert
fgzger..§ir Alfred Sheree; Builder e: Empire.(zomba.

Royal Geographic Society, Sharpe to Keltie, December
[7] 1897.

R.G.S., Sharpe to Keltie, Novemeber 25 1896.

R.G.S., Sharpe to Keltie, December [7] 1897.

75.

76.

77.

78.

79.

80.
81.
82.
83.
84.
85.
86.
87.
88.
89.

90.

91.

92.

93.
94.
95.

96.

101

Sir Alfred Sharpe. The Baehhene.ef.£mnire (London.
1921). As early as 1894, Sharpe complained that "my

right arm is at present disabled" from shooting,
R.G.S., Sharpe to Keltie, October 12 1896.

See for instance, Foreign Office to Treasury, July 5
1898, F.0. 403/265.

Memo by Sharpe, August 29 1898, F.O. 403/265.

"Report on Trade..., April 1 1896 to March 1897," F.O.
403/245.

Foreign Office to Colonial Office, December 22 1898,
r.o. 403/ 265.

Close to Salisbury, January 27 1899, F.O. 403/286.
White, flaggmerg, 84.

Baker, ”Malawi's Exports...," 87.

Boeder, "Malawians Abroad".

Pearce to Foreign Office, November 1 1899, F.O. 2/210.
Sharpe to Foreign Office, May 9 1899, F.O. 2/209.
Sharpe to Foreign Office, August 2 1899, F.O. 2/209.
Sharpe to Foreign Office, August 2 1899, F.O. 2/209.
Foreign Office to Sharpe, November 1 1900, F.O. 2/304.
Sharpe to Clement Hill, December 17 1899, F.O. 2/210.

"Report on Trade and General Conditions, 1899-1900,”
F.O. 2/307.

Manning to Foreign Office, October 29 1900, F.O. 2/309.

”Report on Trade and General Conditions, 1900-1901,"
r.o. 2/468.

Sharpe to Foreign Office, February 11 1901, F.O. 2/469.
Sharpe to Foreign Office, April 9 1901, F.O. 2/470.
Sharpe to Foreign Office, July 8 1901, F.O. 2/470.
Once again though, there is a tendency to overestimate

the impact of this change. For instance, Mandala
claims that taxes were actually increased to twelve

102

shillings, the legal maximum under the new law.
However, correspondence after his cited reference
clearly shows that the rates were six and three
shillings, while his second reference, Pachai, points
out "the twelve shillings limit existed on paper only:
it was too high in 1901. In actual practice the upper
and the lower limits were six and three shillings."
See Mandala, Kerk and QQDIIQL. 112: and Pachai,

Melanie The Bisterx ef.fhe.Natien. 114.

97. Sharpe to Hill, April 3 1902, F.O. 2/605.

98. Manning to Sharpe, December 5 1900, F.O. 2/469.

99. Sharpe to Foreign Office, April 9 1901, F.O. 2/470.

100.
101.

102.

103.

104.

105.

106.

107.
108.
109.
110.
111.
112.
113.

114.

115.

Sharpe to Foreign Office, April 9 1901, F.O. 2/470.
E.U.L., Gen 717/13, B. Moir to Jan, December 30 1898.

Sharpe to Foreign Office, February 27 1899, F.O.
2/208.

Sharpe to Hill, November 14 1902, F.O. 2/608.

Sharpe to Foreign Office, Decemeber 2 1902, F.O.
2/608.

Testimony of R.H. Hynde, enclosed in Sharpe to Foreign
Office, December 2 1902, F.O. 2/608.

Sharpe to Foreign Office, Septemeber 30 1901, F.O. 2/
471.

Woods, ”The myth...': 366.

Milner to Sharpe, December 6 1902, F.O. 2/608.
Sharpe to Milner, December 18 1902, F.O. 2/608.
Sharpe to Foreign Office, March 10 1902, F.O. 2/605.
Sharpe to Clement Hill, December 18 1902, F.0.2/608.
Sharpe to Milner, December 11 1902, F.O. 2/608.
Boeder, "The Effects of Labor Emigration...”. Mine

remittances still play a valuable role in Malawi's
economy.

argrargr, April 30 1903.
M.N.A., S 1/385/23, enclosed Pearce to Lansdowne, July

116.

117.

118.

103

7 1903.

M.N.A., S 1/385/23, enclosed in Pearce to Lansdowne,
July 7 1903.

Most notablyiVail and Pachai. See vail, "The
State...,”: and B. Pachai, "Christianity and Commerce
in Malawi: some Pre-Colonial and Colonial Aspects,” in

Pachei e1: 51., eds. Helm Feet and Present-

Indeed, Tangri has pointed out that demonstrations
against colonialism had begun as early as 1902 in
Nkata Bay, Tangri, "African Reaction and
Resistance...," 10.

Chapter Four
The Conquest's State's Last Hurrah, 1904-1911

1904 promised great change in Malawian politics.
London finally decided to place the territory under the
Colonial rather than the Foreign Office and within a year
authorized the appointment of the country's first
"experts."l But many of the old guard, most notably Alfred
Sharpe, remained firmly entrenched in Zomba and fought
comprehensive reform vigorously. Consequently, the conquest
state clung tenaciously to life until 1911 and continued to
inhibit the emergence of a more rational bureaucracy
capable of coping with the territory's expanding problems.

Unfortunately, the need to establish a new
administration grew more pressing as the state dithered.
The planting community struggled to recover from the
collapse of coffee as an export crop. As they did so, they
grew more antagonistic towards Zomba and more dependent on
large metropolitan concerns. The net effect of this process
was that much of the export economy slipped away from the
state's purview and control. Zomba tried to rectify the
situation by allowing unofficial representation on the
Legislative Council formed in 1908, but the divisions
within the European community and the small number of seats
available ensured that many settlers still felt
unrepresented in the administration's upper echelons.

Ironically, while the planters struggled, the
indigenous community apparently experienced a brief

104

105

economic boom as more Malawians worked in the region's
mines and on the construction of the country's new
railroad. However, just as the planters finished recovering
in 1908, the bottom fell out of the African economy. New
restrictions on labor emigration combined with the
completion of the railroad and curtailed indigenous
prosperity. Malawians consequently had to emigrate
illegally or accept lower paying jobs in the territory.
This change increased indigenous anxiety and sparked a
number of incidents in the country.2

These events were especially dangerous because changes
in indigenous society had undermined Zomba's ability to
rule. Continued Lomwe immigration, internal labor migration
and the state's continued disdain for traditional
authorities all caused an erosion of pre-colonial social
organizations. What kind of new structures emerged in the
new society still remains unclear, but there is no doubt
that new family and village patterns were developing.3

Simultaneously, new ideological forces were exerting
an increasingly important influence on Malawians. The
independent churches which had established themselves
earlier began to influence people, and millennial movements
grew stronger each day.4 Moreover, Malawians began to
develop closer contact with outside elements of the black
diaspora, most notably the African-American community in
the United States.5

These developments were an ill omen for Zomba.

106

Colonial administrators were gradually losing control of
the economy as well as the ”unofficial" community, both
European and African. Zomba could still depend on the
politics of kith and kin to keep the planters relatively
passive, and the continuing legacy of the conquest state's
terror placed a damper on indigenous discontent. But the
state could ill afford to ignore the country's changes as
it tried to fashion a workable bureaucracy.

Governor Sharpe was keenly aware that he faced
considerable problems in 1904. In his Annual Report, he
frankly admitted that a "somewhat difficult question for
consideration is the extent of power which should be
allowed to Native Chiefs...the people formerly subject to
them often refuse to obey or take any notice of their
directions."6 This gradual dissolution of traditional
authority left the administration with a potentially
rebellious and dissident population, and the presence of
numerous Lomwe immigrants made the situation even more
unstable. The commissioner had already pointed out that
they had been responsible for a number of highway robberies
in 1898 and 1899.7 Unless the state could find some way of
establishing a legitimate hierarchy in the villages, the
potential for indigenous unrest was extremely high.

The dissolution of indigenous authority was not the
country's only problem. The recession triggered by the
collapse of coffee cultivation still gripped the country,

107

and capital was scarce.8 New crops, most notably tobacco
and cotton, were being developed, but these ventures were
still not profitable.9 Indeed, the British Cotton Growers
Association frankly admitted that cotton cultivation had
failed in 1903.10

Ironically, the recession aided the state in an
entirely unexpected way by widening the schisms among
unofficial community's classes. This intensification of
class fractionalization soon produced a political
fragmentation of Malawi's white community.11 Late in 1903,
a new association, the Nyasaland Planters' Association,
challenged the Chamber of Commerce's authority to claim it
was the voice of the planters. Relations between the two
groups eventually became so bad that the The_§enrra1
Afiriean Iinee complained that "if the two bodies exist as
at present, there is little hope of united action...a
condition which would annul any good they may possibly
contemplate."12 The disunity provided the state an enviable
opportunity to maintain political autonomy since capitalist
fractionalization inhibited the unofficial community's
ability to pressure Zomba.

The state now had an opportunity to act, and for a
brief period, it appeared that a new era of reform was at
hand. The Colonial Office assumed control of the territory
from the Foreign Office in early 1904. At the same time,
Sharpe uncharacteristically admitted that new labor

regulations were needed since the old ones "have, in fact,

108

for some time past been almost a dead letter.”13

Old habits die hard though, and the promised reforms
never arrived. To some extent, Zomba's failure to implement
change was understandable. Sharpe spent much of his time
weeding out incompetents, drunkards and reprobates. One of
his department heads was an emotionally unstable individual
who frankly admitted that he practically suffered a nervous
breakdown in 1903 and was cashiered because of "acute
mania" in late 1904.14 In an even more spectacular case, a
district officer was invalided home because he claimed that
upena, a local rain spirit, had possessed him.15 Zomba also
found that it had to fire at least one official for
drunkeness and another because of financial problems.16 But
the most intriguing case involved the dismissal of an
officer accused of a ”breach of financial instructions."17
The man defended himself by asserting that his alleged
embezzlement was normal and implied that other officers
likewise supplemented their salaries.18

Resolving these personnel problems was a daunting task
for Sharpe. Working conditions in the country were onerous
and pay small, and the governor admitted that the "general
conditions of life [here] are such as to render highly
inadvisable prolonged residence without change."19 Nor had
the work load improved since the colony's early days. One
department head frankly advised his superiors that proposed
legislation should not be passed because he had only one

officer to complete his department's work.20

109

Sharpe did not help matters by insisting that his
officers should not be married.21 The Colonial Office
admonished the commissioner that "such a rule may often
prevent...the sending of a specially competent man."22
Indeed, a petition from district officers argued that it is
in ”the best interests of Government, for the comfort,
health and contentment of the individual, and for the
settlement and progress of the Protectorate, that officials
should enter the married state."23

The outcome of these problems was quite clear.
District administration was at best shoddy, and on at least
two occasions Zomba reported that residents were not
fulfilling their obligations.24 Indeed, things got so bad
that the Mandarins in Whitehall eventually concluded that
district administration was in a shambles and 'require[d]
immediate improvement."25

The state's disarray did not auger well for the future
of the country, and Zomba's initial movement toward reform
soon petered out. By September 1904, Pearce replied to
complaints about transportation by insisting that the
country's roads were "distinctly good."26 Zomba also argued
its willingness to "do anything possible to assist
planters, short of coercing labour," while simultaneously
ensuring that London knew the settlers' labor problems
stemmed from the "poor housing and indifferent food" given
to estate workers.27 In essence, the state insisted that

the solution to the labor problem "lay in the planters' own

110

hands."28

The state also demonstrated its autonomy in its
response to continuing land problems. Sharpe best
demonstrated this independence when he informed the
planters that the administration should not only cease
selling crown land to plantation producers but that Zomba
should also take advantage of the shortages by raising the
rents on any leases.29 A month later, he testily pointed
out that land really was available around Blantyre.3o

The state's refusal to address the land question was
dangerous indeed. Settlers used up valuable capital
obtaining acreage from large landowners rather than
devoting it to developing better crops.31 Moreover, land
leases might have kept planters from obtaining loans to
expand their operations.32 But the state was convinced that
"no Europeans come to Nyasaland with the idea of permanent
settlement: but rather with the object of temporarily
taking up planting and other industries, which they hope
may enable them after a certain number of years to leave
the country in bettered circumstances."33 So it was not
keen to help the beleaguered planters as they tried to
reestablish themselves.

The state also hurt the planters by not providing any
agricultural services.34 In 1904, the British Cotton
Growers' Association pointed out that the country's
Scientific Department "is not at all well organised, and

the planters have no-one to help them in case of

111

difficulty."35 Sharpe confirmed this observation by
complaining to the department's head that its work was
"extremely humiliating for me."36

It is hard to blame Sharpe entirely for this problem.
Whitehall tied his hands by refusing to sanction more votes
for agriculture because "it would be out of the
question...to approve so large an expenditure...until it is
possible to forecast with great certainty the lines which .
the agricultural development of the protectorate is likely
to follow."37 But while the reasons for the state's
inactivity were unclear, the outcome was not. By 1905,
commentators observed that the lack of extension services
had led to an ”absolute ignorance of the planters on all
matters connected with cotton growing."38 More importantly,
the state's inertia insured that ”thousands of pounds have
been wasted by the planting community owing to lack of
advice."39 ‘

The state also undercut the planting community by
trying to encourage indigenous cotton production. As early
as November 1904, Sharpe asserted that ”there is a far
greater future for native grown cotton in this Protectorate
than for any quantity which can be produced, or is likely
to be produced, by European planters.'4° Sharpe did more
than comment on this industry though: he also encouraged
its development by giving a labor rebate on hut taxes to
any African who produced 36 pounds of cotton.41 This policy

sought to entice Malawians to stay home rather than migrate

112

to the neighboring mines, but even Sharpe conceded that one
side effect would be a dimunition of labor available for
estate cultivation.42
Reducing the planters' workforce was not so crucial as
responding to threats made by authorities in the mining
territories. In September, Lord Milner requested that the
Rand mines be allowed to pay Malawian workers before they
left South Africa rather than remit their salaries home.43
Such action would naturally decrease the flow of money
pouring north from the mining districts and eliminate the
prosperity many indigenous inhabitants consequently
enjoyed.44 Sharpe thwarted Milner's plan by claiming that
at least two-thirds of the miners' salaries had to be
remitted or the ”constant and continued opposition" of
local capitalists would boil over.45 But Sharpe was
concerned that the remittances from the south did not
.outweigh the socially devastating consequences of labor
emigration, and he became determined to develop other
sources of revenue for the local community by doing all
”that I can to encourage the growth of cotton by
natives."‘6
Sharpe remained as inconsistent as ever though: even
as he argued for peasant cultivation, he began stultifying
village capitalism by passing legislation which made
lending Africans more than one pound illegal.47 Yet, if

Africans were to cultivate crops, it was clear that they

would eventually need advances for tools, seeds and

113

fertilizers. By strictly limiting the amount of capital
they could borrow, the commissioner was in effect
inhibiting their capacity to become agrarian capitalists
even as he was extolling the virtues of peasant production.
Nor did he provide any services which might make up for
these difficiencies. Indeed, it appeared that the
government was not even able to pass out the cotton seed it
had decided to provide African growers.48

The state also hurt the local economy by failing to
supervise construction of the railroad. Though a contract
had been awarded in late 1903, apparently not one mile of
line had been laid by December 1904.49 Instead, the British
Central Africa Company, a large planting concern which had
won the contract, had been using the railroad's duty free
status to import goods with which it paid its agricultural
workers as well as the rail laborers.50 The British Central
Africa Company apparently used this ruse to seek a
preeminent economic position. Eventually, the Crown Agents
claimed the railroad was just part of a scheme in which
"the British Central Africa Company are doing everything in
their power to crush out opposition in the Protectorate."51

But even with the duty free privileges, the strain of
building the railway proved too much for the British
Central Africa Company. By January 1905, the Crown Agents
reported that the company's stock did "not represent money,
but paper only" and that the company "is nothing but a

paper company."52 A year later, the same agency reported

114

that the company was in critical condition.53

The collapse of the company was just one sign of a
general economic malaise which occurred during the decade's
middle years. By April 1905, Sharpe himself admitted that
in the Cholo area ”there are now not more than two estates
which may be considered at all prosperous, and few estates
are now worked.”54 By 1906, the British Cotton Growers
Association reported that ”in all probability the total
[cotton] losses incurred by planters and others in the
colony [since 1904] are very little short of 120,000."55 In
July, the Association's local representative reported that
only Mr. Ashcroft of Chirala made a profit from cotton
cultivation.56 And the recession continued through that
year as exports fell some 16,531.57

Ironically, the recession did not have as much impact
on the indigenous community. Although the British Cotton
Growers Association pointed out that rail construction
delays "must have a very serious effect on...the extension
of cotton growing," evidence demonstrates that the
indigenous community enjoyed considerable prosperity at
this time.58 In 1905, the administration reported that the
villages experienced a "freer circulation of cash."59 A
year later, another report indicated that prosperity was
continuing and that ”the native's wants are increasing year
by year: what he was content with a few years ago will not

do for him now."60

Although the reasons behind this prosperity are

115

obscure, African affluence merits further discussion
because it indicates that indigenous society was rapidly
changing in a way which threatened the state. Many
indigenous inhabitants now opted to alienate themselves
voluntarily in order to earn wages, and as they did so
their migration threatened family structure and the
stability of indigenous society. In particular, the state
now faced the possibility of having to cope with
increasingly large numbers of families made destitute by
the loss of productive males. Mbreover, as marginalized
members of the indigenous community obtained enough capital
to change their status, their social mobility threatened to
destabilize further the country's already tattered social
organizations, thus contributing to anarchy in the
countryside. The apparent correlation behind prosperity and
alienation presented Zomba with a potentially volatile
situation because it created a new social order which
traditional hegemony could not control.

The most obvious example of alienated laborers
generating income for the villages involved mine workers.
The 1905 Annual Report freely admitted that African
prosperity stemmed from "the large sums paid to...natives
from the Transvaal mines."61 Both Boeder and Sanderson
stress that Malawian participation in the mining economies
blossomed after the 1903 agreement with the South
Africans.62 Unfortunately, modern historians have

ignored the local effects of labor migration in depth,

116

and it is hard to determine its impact on colonial
society.63

Nevertheless, the country's colonial historiography
allows us to conclude that labour migration tore indigenous
society apart.64 J. van Velsen claimed that labor migration
created an environment in which "struggles for political
power are won and lost, and titles appear and disappear.
The Tonga political system shows relatively little
continuity of titles and produces great numbers of rival
claimants for political titles."65 Magaret Read seconded
the idea that emigration created political chaos by
stressing that "for the most part the Chewa chiefs and
headmen were only just holding their own."66

Labor migration further eroded indigenous social
structures as well. Read claimed that one Chewa informant
told her that ”'our son-in-law used to be our
servant...now...it is we who are his servants, looking
after our daughter, his wife'."67 Read ultimately
concluded that Chewa marriage was moving from a matrilineal
pattern to a patrilocal ceremony.68 Van Velsen supported
this assertion of a shift from matrilineal to patrilocal
traditions and insisted that the offspring from migrants'
"quasi-marraiges" in foreign territory often were sent to
Tonga villages instead of their mothers' homes.69 Such
changes undoubtedly put villages under enormous strain and
70

threatened to undermine traditional social patterns.

Labor migration also had other debilitating effects,

117

bringing ”poverty and misery to hundreds of thousands
of families" as vital male labor left the villages.71
Although both Read and van Velsen argued that emigration
did not impoverish local villages, other evidence suggests
that the departure of husbands and fathers created serious
problems.72 Moreover, even when the maehena, or "missing
ones,” returned, they often brought alien ideologies which
further disrupted indigenous society.73

The ambiguity about emigration's impact on traditional
society does not mask the fact that it generated
fundamental changes within traditional society. Read
perhaps gave us the best decription of the effects of labor
migration when she claimed that the "labour demands of an
alien economic enterprise have completely undermined the
old economic life of the country and are going to undermine
its social life as well...Nor is it only the economic
progress in rural areas which is threatened. The future of
'indirect rule', which can only be built on stable social
life in the villages, is at stake.'74

Other factors which contributed to indigenous well-
being also threatened the traditional patterns of
indigenous society. Perhaps the most important of these was
railroad construction. By February 8 1905, some one
thousand Malawians were working between Chiromo and Port
Herald.7s As construction progressed, the railroad's
undercapitalization undoubtedly ensured that more and more

jobs were available for both men and women.76

118

Unfortunately, Malawian historiography is even more
silent about rail laborers than it is about mine workers.77
Mandala claims that "the undercapitalized railway
companies...were primarily responsible for the unpopularity
of wage labor and for intensifying the role of the state in
labor recruitment.”8 What little evidence still exists in
the rail Limbe archives indicates that rail workers had
unpleasant jobs.79 In 1905, rail officials warned their
supervisors to avoid abusing workers since ”cases of this
kind are most discreditable to those concerned, and it is
requested that in future more humanity should be shown."80
And even though Zomba insisted that the company hire
assistants because of "accidents...resulting in serious
injury," the company resisted complying for several
years.81

Nevertheless, company officials managed to obtain
enough workers to complete the job in four years even
though their coercive powers were clearly limited. The
circular which warned about avoiding brutality pointed out
that "it should be remembered that, apart from the question
common of decency, the continuance of such cases will be
certain to bring us into conflict with the administration,
with the probable result that new and irksome regulations
will be drawn up which will make railway construction
almost impossible."82 Therefore, it is likely that the
company depended on the kind of reciprocity which

characterized relations between employers and employees

119

elsewhere in the colony.83

Some evidence certainly suggests that the company
provided opportunity as well as oppression for certain
Malawians. The enormous imports of the British Central
Africa Company which caused the Crown Agents such anxiety
had to be going somewhere, and it is likely that the labor
intensive railroad was pouring them into indigenous
communities.84 Moreover, wages were not the only way in
which Malawians could obtain money from rail construction.
The company's European and Indian employees also introduced
money into the economy by consuming local produce and
occasionally even women.85 This influx of capital
potentially threatened traditional society by providing
marginalized Africans with a means of superseding their
ascribed positions and changing traditional patterns of
marriage and labor division. Such transformations, whatever
their particulars, undoubtedly contributed to a growing
anarchy with which the state would eventually have to
contend.

Unfortunately, until we learn more about the social
history of colonial Malawi, the impact of both mining and
rail work will remain unclear. But it is not unfair to
assume that they stimulated alienation and accumulation
which threatened to destroy indigenous society and
thus undermine the country's political stability.86 Zomba
recognized that indigenous prosperity was not an unmixed

blessing. For example, Sharpe openly worried that too much

120

labor emigration would mean that "women, children, and old
men are unable to carry out the necessary work of clearing,
planting and house building.”87 But the state was unable to
stop social tranformations created by the indigenous
community's material ambition, and Sharpe never acted upon
his concerns.

Ironically, Zomba used African prosperity to downplay
the severity of the economic crisis facing the country's
expatriate community. For instance, Sharpe accompanied some
pessimistic reports with a note claiming ”planters are
inclined to exaggerate such [economic] losses, especially
when they are taking advances."88 The governor's cynicism
irritated the settlers, and evidence suggests that their
relations with the state deteriorated as the economy
declined. In March 1906, Sharpe informed Whitehall that
"you have gathered long before now that this paper, the
genrra1,A£r1ean_Iimee, is our 'opposition'-the proprietor
and editor is a man named R.S. Hynde who practically runs
the so called 'Chamber of Commerce and Agriculture'...[and]
represents the decidedly democratic element in British
Central Africa."89 A few months later, an administration
spokesperson emphasized the sarcasm of this comment by
claiming that ”there is no reason to suppose that the
Blantyre Chamber of Commerce expresses the opinion of the
majority of the responsible inhabitants in the country. It
is an association which is practically run by Mr. Hynde,

who has always shown himself antagonistic to the

121

administration."90

Zomba's refusal to cope with the European
recession was devastating because it allowed transnational
associations to establish preeminence in the country as
planters tried to cultivate new crops. These firms achieved
this dominance because neither the country's indigenous nor
its expatriate community had either the capital or the
acumen to establish an effective articulation with the
merrepele. Relying on multinationals to maintain
articulation, however, ensured that at least some of the
profits made in commodity production went into
metropolitan, not local coffers and thus hindered primitive
accumulation even more.91

The best example of multinational encroachment into
the Malawian economy was the appearance of the Imperial
Tobacco Company.92 The Buchanan brothers had early grown
tobacco, but after their death production dropped off in
the colony. However, after coffee cultivation collapsed,
planters sought new crops, and interest rekindled. By 1904
Blantyre 8 East Africa (headed by Hynde) sent its "first
samples of stripped dark fired tobacco” to London.93 Three
years later, the British Central Africa Company sent a
number of samples to the Imperial Tobacco Company in
Bristol.94

The arrival of Imperial Tobacco was momentous. The
company had been formed at the turn of the century by a

consortium of independent tobacco manufacturers in the

122

United Kingdom anxious to keep the American Tobacco Company
from seizing control of the British market.95 As part of
its effort to beat the Americans, Imperial decided to
establish its own leaf buying operations overseas and began
searching for untapped markets.

Malawi's tobacco therefore picqued Imperial's
interest, and in late 1906 or early 1907, it sent A.W. Boyd
to Malawi to investigate local conditions.96 Boyd
recognized that the depression presented a big opportunity
for Imperial. Boyd informed his supervisors that "there is
every reason to believe that if the Imperial Tobacco
Company established a factory at or near Blantyre, and paid
cash on delivery for the tobacco, the production would
rapidly increase...this is an opportune time for a buyer to
commence business as there is a clear field.'97

One of the reasons Imperial had such an opportunity
was that local capitalists did not have the resources to
pay enough for tobacco or advance planters money for their
crops.98 A. Metcalfe, the manager of the British Africa
Company, claimed that "the local planters are extremely
dissatisfied with the present market for purchasing their
tobacco, the only purchasers being Messrs. Blantyre and
East Africa Ltd., and they do not intend to plant again
this year unless other buyers are in the market."99 Boyd
seconded this opinion by pointing out that Blantyre 8 East
Africa "has bought and handled most of the tobacco grown in

the colony, but the prices and terms have been so

123

unsatisfactory that the planters are dissatisfied, and
contemplate reducing the[ir] acreage. The terms of the
purchase were payment six months after the date of last
delivery."100 Thus, the local economy's lack of capital, to
which state policies contributed enormously, ensured that
only multinationals with abundant capital and safe
metropolitan markets could establish articulation with new
commodities.

Imperial's directors in Bristol eagerly received
Boyd's report, and soon dispatched him and Ernest Howard to
Malawi. There, the Imperial agents, both Virginians with
considerable expertise in tobacco cultivation, began
helping local planters grow and cure their crops. The
Americans also set up a factory adjacent to the British
Central Africa Company headquarters and future site of
Malawi's main rail yards.

The establishment of this factory was a crucial
watershed in Malawi's history because it effectively ended
the recession which had wracked the settler community. The
Limbe operation ended consignment payments, and planters
could now earn a return on their produce right away.101 As
a result, planters had more money to expand their
operations and pay their bills.

One of the most interesting facets of tobacco's
establishment in Nyasaland was the virtual absence of any
official participation or involvement. The administration
eventually tried to grab some of the credit for bringing

124

the company out, but other records do not support its
assertions.102 In 1906, the Scientific Department reported
that "no work has as yet been undertaken by the Department
in connection with tobacco."103 Two years later, an
Agricultural Department report discussed the company's
operations extensively without once mentioning official
involvement.104 Tobacco would prove to be a profitable
crop, but its genesis started outside the administration's
aegis.

The other important crop, of course, was cotton. And
like tobacco, cotton enticed a large metropolitan firm, the
British Cotton Growers Association, to Malawi. Formed at
the turn of the century, this consortium of Midlands
consumers strove to establish areas in which cotton could
be produced without the periodic inflation in prices which
had previously bedeviled the international market.105
Therefore, it began seeking British territories in which to
establish cotton production.

Malawi was a natural target for the company as its
planters sought an alternative crop to coffee, and by 1904
the company was advancing money to various estates and
companies.106 The payments undoubtedly kept a large number
of planters afloat through the worst of the recession. As
cotton cultivation floundered in 1904, corporate oficials
became concerned and requested that Zomba's Scientific
Department be reformed and an expert sent out in order to

assist cotton cultivation.107 As we have seen, Whitehall

125

had no intention of paying for such luxuries.

So in 1905, the company dispatched W. Simpson, a
cotton expert, to work with the administration.108 Simpson
was extremely well qualified. He had been a professor of
Agriculture at the Egyptian College of Agriculture at Ghiza

109 He was also energetic.

before his posting to Nyasaland.
Less than a year after his arrival in the protectorate, he
was establishing experimental stations throughout the
territory.110

Unfortunately, he was also an acute and outspoken
observer. He admitted that "on my first arrival in the
country the conditions of agriculture appeared hopeless"
since "the country suffered badly from the evil effects of
being a one crop country--at first coffee--and then a mad
rush to cotton."111 Many people may have shared this
opinion, but few confronted Sharpe as forcefully with it.
It soon became clear that relations between the
commissioner and his adviser were becoming strained. In
July 1906, Sharpe confidentially informed his superiors
that he was willing to experiment with cotton under "a
really competent and eapahle man...Mr. Simpson is not by
any means the man I should suggest."112 And after the
Association's man officially reported that "everything
appeared in hopeless and desperate condition," Sharpe
exploded in righteous indignation.113

The commissioner immediately informed London that ”I'm

rather tired of this young man 8 I look on him as a waste

126

of money."114 Simpson was not daunted though: he continued
to demand better facilities and to report conditions
accurately.115 Sharpe finally got so exasperated that he
informed London that "at the expiration of [his] term...I
do not recommend his re-engagement.'116 Ironically, when
Simpson departed for Uganda three years later, Sharpe
remarked that "Mr. Simpson I am in many respects sorry to
lose: he has settled down during the last year or two."117

This interlude demonstrates some important points
about both the administration and its relations with the
British Cotton Growers Association. The most obvious is
that dissent, especially when it cast doubts on previous
policies, was not tolerated. Sharpe's harsh rebuttals of
Simpson's assessment of the colony's economy, with their
implied criticism of how the state had guided the country,
show that administrators had to toe the commissioner's
line. From this one can surmise that political imperatives
created by the personal ambitions and insecurities of chief‘
officers guided policy at least as much as social and
economic conditions in the country.

Less obvious but equally important are the structural
implications of this conclusion. The conquest state, with
its emphasis on personal rather than bureaucratic
functions, still held sway. In many respects, the conflict
between Simpson and Sharpe was the first skirmish between

the conquest state and its successor, and the governor

demonstrated that reform, with its evaluation of hard

127

reality, was still in the future.

The emphasis on individual glory rather than
institutional responsibility also created a confrontation
between the state and metropolitan firms interested in the
territory. After all, these companies were interested in
economic activity, not climbing London's far flung
bureaucratic ladder. But as capitalists sought reforms aimed
at reforming the economy, their actions ran afoul of
administrators who had a vested interest in protecting the
status quo. The resulting conflict inevitably led the
outsiders to lose faith in the state, seek succor from
London itself, and demand enormous concessions from local
administrators.

The saga of the British Cotton Growers Association
certainly shows how this process worked. Once Simpson found
Sharpe unreceptive to his ideas and plans, the
Association's agent apparently complained to his superiors
in Manchester who then went to Whitehall with their
complaints.118 The Association continued to press on
despite the administration's efforts to stop backstairs
communications.119 Whitehall could not do much for the
cotton consortium at the time, and Sharpe continually
refused to facilitate cotton cultivation.120 The
Association's consequent frustration generated two
developments which eventually hurt the colony. It caused
the company to be more hesitant and thus hindered the

emergence of peasant production. More importantly, it

128

created a mistrustful animus between the state and
Manchester which eventually ensured that the Association
looked out for its own interests before it assisted
Malawian producers.121

The administration partially escaped the immediate
consequences of this frustration because the expansion of
tobacco production made the alienation of the British
Cotton Growers Association appear insignificant. By early
1907, the general Afriean,11nee claimed that "there is a
reasonably bright future before many planters this and
during the coming year.'122 And things did improve: by
1908, agricultural exports were up considerably.123 The
next year, the Director of Agriculture reported that "there
is a case of a planter in the Protectorate who started with
1500 capital a year ago..and he has 11000 in hand on one
year's working.'12‘ Indeed, things improved so much that
the schisms within the unofficial community began closing,
and the Nyasaland Planters Association and the Nyasaland
Chamber of Commerce and Agriculture unified in 1907.125

The creation of a Legislative Council (hereafter
LegCo) in 1908 also lent political status to the recovering
planters.126 This body gave the settlers a voice in state
affairs by having three unofficial members deliberate on
legislation. But the promise of LegCo was deceptive since
its new members had no real power. They were outnumbered by
official members who met in an Executive Council which
produced legislation published before being introduced to

129

LegCo for what was apparently to be a rubber stamp.127

Moreover, despite the recent formation of a united settler
association, the unofficial community's continued
fractionalization made it difficult for all settler
interests to be represented, and consequently there was
grumbling about the selection of its members.128

Ironically, as conditions improved for the settlers,
the indigenous community experienced hard times. By 1908,
the administration reported that there was "a falling off
in native trade” and that cotton production had fallen
precipitously.129 At least twice in 1909, Sharpe told
London that he could not increase hut taxes because the
indigenous population was suffering from dire poverty.130
In large part, this penury occurred because Africans lost
high paying jobs in the colony and elsewhere. The cessation
of railway work and cuts in military spending reduced the
wages and capital flowing into indigenous villages, and
Sharpe himself admitted that the loss of rail employment
cost Africans some 120,000 in 1909.131 The situation was
further complicated when, in 1907, the Witswatersrand
Native Labour Association decided to end recruiting.132

The administration "greatly regret[ted]' this
decision, especially since it suspected that locals would
flock south anyway. And so they did. By early 1908, the
administration reported that its subjects continued to the
Rand.133 What particularly disturbed Zomba was that the

South Africans circumvented restrictions on Malawian

130

laborers by recruiting locals in Mozambique's border
provinces and then claimed they were subjects of Portuguese
East Africa.134

This practice undoubtedly accentuated labor
emigration's debilitating effects on the colony. Many of
these recruits probably became maehena and failed to remit
their wages home, depriving the country of the fruits of
their labor. Even more importantly, their ex;efifieie
departure further fragmented families already under strain
from structural changes and left destitute wives and
children.135

The administration recognised these problems, and in
January 1908 Acting Governor Manning asked Whitehall to
accept a new recruiting proposal put forward by Mr. Knipe,
WNLA's representative.136 Manning feared "the non-
acceptance of those proposals and the loss of all control,
as the Native of this protectorate has made up his mind to
go to the Mines." Manning bolstered his case by claiming
that he had "never had one case...[of] returned labourers
where any complaints have been made: one and all have been
enthusiastic as to their treatment, pay, and above all
their food." Sharpe seconded this opinion in November, and
a year later he argued that the administration should
strike the deal because it would simply legitimize the
mafia: yiyendi.137 Eventually Sharpe allowed some 3,000
Malawians to go to the Transvaal.138 But the issue remained

unclear legislatively, and Zomba was still pleading for

131

some sort of agreement years later.139

The indigenous recession created serious problems for
the administration. As Africans found their material
ambitions thwarted, they became increasingly restive. In
April 1907, a major disturbance rocked the Nheu district as
Africans heeded the admonitions of Chanjiri, a local
sorceress, and refused to pay their hut taxes.14o Although
Zomba successfully put down the rebellion, the state was
very alarmed, especially since the ”better educated and
more civilised races, such as the Yaos" participated.141

The state had good reason to be concerned. Throughout
this period, certain traditional social institutions were
taking on an increasingly anti-colonial bent. Schoffeleers
and Page have both commented on the increasingly anti-
colonial attitudes of various spirit mediums.142
Schoffeleers and Mandala have discussed how nemi societies
became axes around which peasants escaped from colonial
coercion.143 And integrative dances like malipenga assumed
seditious overtones.144

The underlying assumption in this historiography is
that these developments were traditional reactions against
an onerous colonial state and structure. For instance, Page
claims that Chanjiri's message was an "enunciation of both
local grievances and general dissatisfaction with colonial
rule.'145 Of course, it is worth noting that other
Malawians used tradition to integrate into and to adapt to

colonial society, not as a way to protest it.146

132

One can conclude from this discrepancy that the
pressure of integrating into the emerging colonial economy
had a different effect on how people manipulated their
traditional culture. For those who achieved material
success, there was little need to use tradition as a medium
of protest or even rebellion. Those whose material
ambitions were thwarted adopted atavistic protest
ideologies which aimed to compensate spiritually for their.
failures.

Of course, without a better understanding of the
local economic conditions affecting each individual group,
it is hard to reach a definitive conclusion about the
nature of protest in Malawi. But it certainly appears that
it would be incorrect to assume that such activities were
necessarily characteristic of an ethnic group's response to
the colonial environment.147 Instead, the class position
and material success of individual clans and villages seems
to have defined how they manipulated their traditions.
Certainly, the rise of protest arising from indigenous
culture came at a time when the African community was
experiencing hardship.

Nor was the emergence of radicalized traditional
societies the state's only concern. Shortly after
Chanjiri's protest, Eliot Kamwana began espousing a
seditious Christian prophecy aimed at toppling the colonial
state.148 While Kamwana's aims still remain obscure, he

apparently sought to establish an African theocracy in

133

place of Zomba's administration. The Bandwe missionaries
informed the administration about Kamwana's activities, and
the state deported him before he could complete his plan.
But the massive demonstrations following his second arrest
in 1910 indicate that he had a large number of
followers.149

Like Chanjiri, it is hard to place Kamwana in a
structural framework. Little information has emerged about
the economic situation at Nkata Bay and its environs during
this time. Nevertheless, it is almost certain that local
inhabitants were feeling the effects of living in the "dead
north". Indeed, van velsen estimated that "60 to 75 percent
of adult Tonga males" were migrant workers.150 As job
opportunities began diminishing and labor migration became
more disruptive, it is easy to understand why seditious
agitation would fall on receptive ears in this district.
Thus, it is clear that anxiety created by people's
inability to integrate successfully into the colonial
economy produced the conditions necessary for the
propagation of rebellious rhetoric and the staging of
serious protests.

The emergence of these anti-colonial ideologies were
not the only indication that Zomba was losing control of.
the colony. Other less spectacular phenomena also
demonstrated that the indigenous community was losing its
regard for imperial authority. After crowing about an
”entire prohibition of whipping," the administration

134

admitted that it needed to reinstate flogging because it
could not control indigenous crime.151 In 1908, Manning
justified a new punishments ordinance to London by pointing
out that the unofficial members of LegCo ”were unanimously
of opinion that there exists at the present date an urgent
necessity for such legislation."152 By 1909, Sharpe
introduced another ordinance designed to control the
indigenous community.153 The administration also tried to
prohibit Indian traders from possessing firearms because
it feared that they would sell them to seditious Africans
such as Kawmana.154 By the end of the year, Zomba frankly
reported that "both the chiefs and the Residents find that
under present conditions it is increasingly difficult to
deal with crime, carry out taxation measures, and generally
to keep a hold on the people."155 And by 1910, Sharpe
imposed a heavy fine ”on the inhabitants of certain
villages in the Blantyre District in the vicinity of which
a series of road robberies with violence has recently
occurred."156

The state desperately tried to establish control by
bolstering traditional authorities as well as through
direct coercion. In 1907, the administration stressed that
Africans had "accessibility to His Excellency” the Governor
whenever they wanted. Zomba also emphasized that ”extremely
loyal” chiefs routinely came to the Statehouse for tea and
presumably consultation.157 But even Sharpe's officers

could not keep up this pretense, and by 1909 acting

135

Governor Pearce admitted that ”chiefs do not sufficiently
realise their responsibility nor have the necessary
prestige and power to enable them to enforce their
decisions.'158

The dissolution of traditional society should have
been no surprise. Not only had the conquest state undercut
indigenous political power, but the emergence of a colonial
economy had begun changing indigenous society. The
increasing consumption of manufactured goods showed that
Africans were entering the cash economy at a rapid rate.
Moreover, the continual immigration of Lomwe into the
country and the internal migrations showed that Africans
were readily adapting to new environments, both physically
and psychologically, in return for the benefits provided by
the expanding agricultural sector.159

There were signs that economic integration was paying
handsomely for some Africans as well. Although most
infiigenee became the kind of wandering proletarians who
worried the state so much, others began to develop as
entrepreneurs. In 1910, officials reported that Africans
had obtained some 1000 freehold acres of Crown Land.160 And
in September 1909, the Agricultural Department reported
that an African sold ”over #40 of cotton in his
district."161

Even more important was the emergence of the Native
Industrial Union in 1909. This Chiradzulu based association

sought "the promotion and protection of [N]egroes Christian

136

work in the country, the collecting and recording of
commercial information...[and] communication with the
public authorities on subjects affecting the commercial and
planting community."162 This agenda attracted so many
Africans that by August 1909, the group's dues increased to
five shillings per annum, and its board of directors
decided to limit its enrollment to thirty members.163

The formation of such an association further
demonstrates that Zomba's hegemony was eroding, but
government officials were still incapable of addressing
their declining legitimacy with serious reforms. The state,
however, was not entirely inactive as the decade closed. In
October 1909, Sharpe reorganized the Secretariat and the
Treasury Department.164 More importantly, in March 1908,
acting Governor Manning, after admitting that most
"district roads are only tracks" and ”that there are no
real roads in this country,” decided to replace the
Supervisor of Roads even though that officer was "sober,
quiet and very willing."165

The most important reform was the establishment of the
long awaited Agricultural Department. Although Sharpe
characteristically worried about whether J. Stewart McCall,
his new Superintendent of Agriculture, would ”[be] capable
of carrying out the duties which he will have to undertake
here," the new director attacked his job with energy and
ultimately was a durable asset.166 The need for his

assistance soon became apparent. McCall quickly discovered

137

that soil on some of the older estates was ”thoroughly
exhausted," and recommended that ”the oldest...gardens be
cut down and planted with leguminous plants such as beans
for two years and then replanted with coffee, cotton or
tobacco."167 But the administration's advice was late, and
until beans paid as well as cotton, coffee or tobacco,
there was little hope of revitalizing the worn out soil.
Concern about fertility was especially vexing for
McCall since he actively encouraged new European
immigration.168 In June 1909, he reported that "there is a
good opening for men with a little capital...and any man
who is careful and intelligent, with a capital of from #500
to £1,000 can cultivate from 100 to 200 acres." He
strengthened this assertion by noting that "the small
planter is the man who benefits the country most, as the
money always comes back to the country."169 The state
agreed: in March 1909, Sharpe claimed he wanted to "make it
as simple as possible for genuine settlers to obtain land,”
and pointed out that "the kind of settler required in
Nyasaland is the man who has a capital of £2,000 to 13,000,
who has some knowledge of tropical agriculture, and who
acquaints himself by personal experience with the country
before he thinks of committing himself."170 And in October,
a majority of the colony's Executive Council decided that
leasehold territory should eventually be made freehold as
long as planters worked it.171

Zomba's renewed faith in estate production was at best

138

disingenuous. Land shortages remained a chronic problem,
and in October 1909 Sharpe himself admitted that there
should be no further alienation in "the vicinity of
Blantyre and other business centres in the Shire
Highlands."172 Restricting alienation meant that new
immigrants would have to buy land from large corporations
who would undoubtedly love an opportunity to dump exhausted
soil on unsuspecting neophytes.”3 Nor was land the
planters' only problem: alienated labor was also scarce
despite the indigenous community's economic troubles.174
Indeed, even as dedicated a champion of settlement as
McCall admitted that "the difficulty of obtaining labor is
being felt by planters."175

Of course, state policies themselves contributed to
this problem. Zomba was not only seeking ways in which it
could send workers south, but it was also encouraging
indigenous cotton cultivation as much as possible. Indeed,
by 1910 the Diarrie; Beeigenr;e fianfiheek, a guide for all
district administrators, urged officers that "every
encouragement should be given natives to cultivate cotton
as extensively as possible.”176

While simultaneously advocating peasant and estate
production may have seemed contradictory, it in fact served
the state's political imperatives. Planters were needed to
develop the tobacco industry, especially since Boyd felt
Africans were not‘up to the task.177 But the wages paid by
these settlers were frankly inadequate for an ambitious

139

indigenous community which had enjoyed more remunerative
wages on the railroad and in the southern mines. So the
state sought ways in which it could satisfy African
ambitions without destroying the economy.

Any apparent contradiction between peasant and estate
production meant little to Zomba. Indeed, advocating such
policies concurrently demonstrates that little had changed
in the administration. Some reforms may have occurred, but
Malawi's state was still a confused institution. Policies
were haphazard and idiosyncratic rather than rational and
comprehensive. As a result, the country continued to drift.
Economic expansion remained precarious with most hope
coming from multinational firms rather than local
capitalists. Indigenous anxieties were being translated
into increasingly radical ideologies. And environmental
troubles were looming on the horizon. More reforms were
needed immediately, but the dithering of Sharpe and his
officers may have closed the window of opportunity forever.

ENDNOTES
1. Indeed, John McCracken states that "the origins of
colonial expertise in Malawi may be conveniently dated
from...4 May 1905." See John McCracken "Experts and

Expertise in Colonial Malawi," Afriean,51faire, 81

(January, 1982), 102. It is worth noting that the word

colonial here does not necessarily refer to the state

since McCracken gets his date from the arrival of S.

Simpson, an employee of the British Cotton Growers

Association, not of Zomba.

2. The most spectacular incidents being Chanjiri's uprising
in Ncheu and Kamwana's second arrest. See Melvin Page,

"Malawians in the Great War and After,” 15-16: Melvin

Page, "Mediums and the Message: Prophetism and Spirit-
Mediumship in Central Africa," History Department

140

Seminar, Chancellor College, November 12 1985, 6: and
Chirwa, ”Masokwa Elliot Kenan Kamwana Chirwa...,' 14.

3. Megan vaughan, "Food Production and Family Labour in
Southern Malawi: the Shire Highlands and Upper Shire
Valley in the Early Colonial Period," Jenrnal 91
arriean , 23, 3 (1982): Megan Vaughan, "Which
Family? Problems in the Reconstruction of the History
of the Family as an Economic and Cultural Unit,"
leurnal.ef.Afrieanflflieterx. 24. 2 (1983): and Kings H-
Phiri, "Some Changes in the Matrilineal Family System
among the Chewa of Malawi since the Nineteenth
Century." Jeurnel.ef.AfrieanAHieterx. 24. 2
(1983). J.A.K. Kandawire attempts such a study,
especially in his analysis of ehiraganya over time,
but his emphasis on the inevitable emergence of
contemporary Malawi's one party political system as a
result of the country's colonial political economy
erodes some of his works utility. Moreover, Kandawire
insists that the state was allied with the country's
expatriate capitalists, a hypothesis obviously
contradictory to this thesis. See Kandawire, Thangara.

4. The best descriptions of religious radicalism are in

Shepperson & Price. Indeeendenf.Afriean: and Karen
Fields. Eexixal‘and.8ehellieno

5. Religious links with African Americans were the primary
way in which Malawians developed overseas ties. The
most interesting example of these Malawians abroad is
Frederick Njilima, whose father eventually became a
wealthy businessman and follower of Chilembwe. Through
the auspices of an African-American missionary,
Njilima left Malawi in 1907 for Natchez College High
School in Mississippi, then attended Kentucky State
University and Lincoln Institute, and finally served
in a British battalion in France during the First
World war before returning to Malawi in 1919. He
eventually became secretary of the Southern Province
Native Association in the mid-1920s. For more, see
Page, "Malawians in the Great War...,' 110-11.

6. Report on Trade and General Conditions, 1903-04, C.O.
525/1.

7. Sharpe to Foreign Office, March 29 1904, C.O. 525/1.
Characteristically, the governor failed to mention
that much of this agitation may have been the result
of the problems occurring in Mozambique during the
turn of the century. For more on this topic, see
above, p. 94, f.n. 71: and Leroy Vail and Landeg

White. canitaliem.and.Qelenielism.in.Mezamhinne
(Minneapolis, 1980), 131-137.

141

8. In 1903-04, coffee exports had dropped from 125,179 the

previous year to 117,868, Report..., 0.0. 525/1.

9. In 1905 tobacco was said to be ”full of promise" which

10.

11.
12.
13.

14.

15.

16.

17.

18.

19.
20.
21.
22.

23.

was still unfulfilled, Wallis to Colonial Office,
August 25 1905, c.o. 525/5.

British Cotton Growers Association to Colonial Office,
October 27 1904, 0.0. 525/6.

Tony Woods, "The Myth of the Capitalist Class,” 366.

central.Afriean Times. November 12 1904-
Sharpe to Foreign Office, February 8 1904, C.O. 525/1.

This individual was Mr. McClounie, the head of the
Scientific Department, Pearce to Colonial Office,
January 6 1906, c.0. 525/12: Patrick Manson to
Colonial Office, June 1 1906, c.0. 525/15.

This was the bizarre case of R.R. Racey, Memo to
Pearce, December 18 1904, enclosed in Sharpe to
Colonial Office, January 24 1905, C.O. 525/7.

These cases involved J. Nichol and Dr. H. Fox
respectively, Sharpe to Colonial Office, June 21 1904,
c.0. 525/2: Sharpe to Colonial Office, April 21 1906,
0.0. 525/12.

This involved Mr. Scott, Pearce to Colonial Office,
August 15 1906, C.O. 525/13: Sharpe to Colonial
Office, February 8 1907, c.0. 525/17.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, February 11 1907, C.O.
525/17.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, July 15 1904, c.0. 525/2.
Sharpe to Colonial Office, July 4 1904, C.O. 525/2.
Sharpe to Colonial Office, March 3 1905, c.0. 525/7.
Colonial Office to Sharpe, February 7 1907, c.0. 525/7.

Petition, enclosed in Sharpe to Colonial Office, June 5
1909, C.O. 525/29. Ironically, Sharpe himself was
married at the time and had his wife, Rosamond, with
him in Malawi. But the saga of his life, in which
Rosamond had deserted him in Fiji and not gone to
Malawi with him until 1903, may indicate that his own
marital situation led him to conclude that Malawi's
officers were better off without their spouses. See

24.

25.

26.

27.

28.

29.

30.

31.

32.

33.

34.

35.

36.

37.

38.

142

Boeder, £11.51IIEQ111. 10 and 77.

Report by Assistant Deputy Commissioner Wallis,
September 17 1904, enclosed in Sharpe to Colonial
Office, October 28 1904, 0.0. 525/2: Pearce to Sharpe,
August 4 1906, enclosed in Sharpe to Colonial Office,
October 17 1906, C.O. 525/14.

Treasury to Harris (Colonial Office), February 2 1906,
C.O. 525/10: Colonial Office to Zomba, August 4 1905,
c.o. 525/3.

Pearce to Colonial Office, September 2 1904, C.O.
525/2.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, August 16 1904, c.0. 525/2:
Sharpe to Colonial Office, November 26 1904, 0.0.
525/3.

Wallis to Colonial Office, June 1 1905, C.O. 525/8.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, November 28 1904, c.0.
525/3. '

Sharpe to Colonial Office, December 6 1904, c.0. 525/3.

Nyasaland Planters Association to Sharpe, November 20
1904, enclosed in Sharpe to Colonial Office, November
28 1904, C.O. 525/3.

British Cottom Growers Association to Colonial Office,
September 2, 1904, C.O. 525/6.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, March 31 1909, c.0. 525/28.

Which contrasts with McCracken's assertion. Of course,
as I pointed out, McCracken incorrectly assumes
S. Simpson, the cotton expert sent to Malawi in 1905,
worked for the administration instead of the British
Cotton Growers Association. See McCracken,
"Experts...,' 10.

British Cotton Growers Association to Colonial Office,
September 13 1904, C.O. 525/6.

M.N.A. A 1/3/1, Sharpe to MCClounie, January 11 1905.
As early as 1900, Zomba had been complaining about the
Department Head's work, see M.N.A. A 2/1/1, MCClounie
to Manning, November 10 1900.

Colonial Office to Zomba, November 9 1905, c.0. 525/9.

British Cotton Growers Association to Colonial Office,

39.

40.

41.

42.

43.

44.

45.

46.

47.

48.

49.

50.

51.

52.

53.

143

November 20 1905, c.0. 525/11.

Memo by SimpsOn, September 3 1906, enclosed in Sharpe
to Colonial Office, October 16 1906, c.0. 525/14.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, November 8, 1904, c.0.
525/3.

This was 36 pounds of unginned cotton which produced
twelve pounds of ginned cotton. Sharpe to Colonial
Office, October 14 1904, C.O. 525/3.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, August 16 1904, c.0. 525/2.
This also reflected the views of the British Cotton
Growers Association, British Cotton Growers
Association to Colonial Office, June 11 1904, C.O
525/6.

Milner to Commissioner, Zomba, September 30, 1904, c.0.
525/2.

This prosperity was mentioned in the annual report,
Annual Report, 1904-05, C.O. 525/5. However, the
system did cut off labOr for planters, as is evident
when H. Stark claimed that "we hear of cotton lands
already planted having to be abandoned for want of
labour," Stark to Earl Percy, March 8 1904, c.0.
525/5.

Commissioner, Zomba to Milner, October 15 1904, c.0.
525/2.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, October 14 1904, c.0. 525/3.
Myambo, ”The Shire Highlands...,' 51.
wallis to Colonial Office, July 24 1905, c.0. 525/8.

British Cotton Growers Association to Colonial Office,
December 7 1904, C.O. 525/6.

Crown Agents to Colonial Office, March 5 1904, c.0.
525/4.

Crown Agents to Colonial Office, June 24 1904, C.O.
525/4.

Crown Agents to Colonial Office, January 31 1905, c.0.
525/10.

Crown Agents to Colonial Office, April 9 1906, c.0.
525/15.

54.

55.

56.

57.

58.

59.

60.

61.

62.

63.

64.

144

Sharpe to Colonial Office, April 28 1905, C.O. 525/17.

British Cotton Growers Association to Colonial Office,
May 22 1906, c.o. 525/16.

Kidney to Sharpe, July 6 1906, enclosed in Sharpe to
Colonial Office, July 10 1906, C.O. 525/13.

Annual Report, 1906-07, C.O. 525/18.

British Cotton Growers Association to Colonial Office,
March 15 1906, C.O. 525/16.

Annual Report, 1904-05, C.O. 525/8. Of course, the
historiography warns that such statements were often
fallacious. For instance both Vaughan and Page argue
that colonial officials incorrectly made the same
assertions at different times. See Vaughan, The
512:!111. 105: Page, "Malawians in the Great War...,"
231. In both cases, the authors are discussing periods
in which there was dramatic inflation in the colony,
which might explain the activity during this period in
the villages without necessarily indicating that
Africans actually experienced an increased material
standard of living. Nevertheless, I believe that the
problems in all cases were that the money circulating
was unevenly distributed and that while many were
poor, a few actually got rich. Until further study is
done the Malawian economy, this question will remain
moot.

Annual Report, 1905-06, C.O. 525/13.
Annual Report, 1904-05, C.O. 525/8.

F.E. Sanderson, "Nyasaland Migrant Labour...,”: and
Boeder, ”Malawians Abroad...”.

Neither Boeder nor Sanderson address the issue of the
impact of labor migration in the early years, although
it is hard to fault them considering the state of the
country's historiography when they wrote their theses
and the research difficulties Boeder in particular
faced. Boeder briefly addressed this issue in his
article, see f.n. 151 below.

The best two studies on this subject are Margaret Read,
"Migrant Labour In Africa and its Effects on Tribal
Life.” ln§ernetienal Laheur.Bexiew. XLV. 6 (June.
1942): and J. van Velsen, ”Labour Migration as a
Positive Factor in the Continuity of Tonga Tribal

Society.” Eeenemie Dexelenment and cultural engage. 8.
3 (1960). It is worth stressing that although both

145

these articles provide valuable information about the
impact of labor emigration, their primary purpose is
to refute the official line adopted after the
submission of the Travers Lacey Report in 1935 (Beeerr
eitheeemiseienfennmiireintemiemtieheer.
Government Printer, Zomba , 1935). The administration
stressed that labor emigration actualy impoverished
the country as it progressed, an assertion with which
both Read and van Velsen strongly disagreed even
though they noted the effects noted below.

65. van Velsen, "Labour Migration...," 278. Ironically, one
of van Velsen's strongest conclusions is that this
subject needed more work including the collection of
life histories and qualitative surveys, see van
Velsen, "Labour Migration...,' 267-268.

66. Read, ”Migrant Labour in Africa...,” 625. Read's study
was far more comprehensive than van Velsen's and
resulted from the Travers Lacey Commission's
conclusion that these topic required more research.

67. Read, "Migrant Labour in Africa...," 628.
68. Read, "Migrant Labour in Africa...," 628.
69. Van Velsen, "Labour Migration...," 272.

70. Although perhaps not the idiom by which village life
was interpreted and structured. In other words, while
people seemed to follow traditional patterns because
they identified institutions with traditional names,
in fact structural changes had transformed the
function of traditional structures. For more on the
concept of idiom and structure, see Steven Feierman,
Beasenflntelleeteelabnthmnelmendnigmin
Tanraeia (Madison, 1990), 9-13. It should also be
stressed that the Malawian social history which does
exist stresses that traditional institutions were a
conservative factor which were used to preserve pre-
colonial identity in the chagning colonial
environment. See, for instance, Matthew Schoffeleers
discussion of the M'bona Cults in Matthew
Schoffeleers, ”The History and Political Role of the
M'Bona Cult among the Mang'anja," in T.O. Ranger, ed.,
Thenisserieflmexefmaelieien (Berkeley.
1972), 87-89. See also the discussion of traditional
dances and dance societies below.

71. ”Recruiting and Native Welfare in Nyasaland,"
Bexiex ef labeur. XIII. 6 (June. 1936).
856. This article was a brief summary of the Travers
Lacey Report to which both Read and van Velsen were

72.

73.

74.

75.

76.

77.

78.

79.

80.

81.

146

reacting.

For instance, Kandawire points out that pressure
increased to make sure that headmen collected taxes,
putting more economic pressures on abandoned wives
and families. See Kandawire, Thangararrr, 102.

For instance, Shepperson points out that many returning
labor migrants returned from the south with alien
ideologies which threatened traditional society and
colonial stability. See George Shepperson, "External
Factors in African Nationalism, with Particular
Reference to British Central Africa," in niggeriane in

Treeieal Afriee (Salisbury. 1962)-
"Migrant Labour in Africa...," 630-631.

Malawi Railway Archives, Shire Highlands Railway File
9, Deputy Commissioner to Manager, S.H.R., February 8
1905.

Interestingly enough, Mandala points out that the
company hired both sexes for rail work, Mandala, £92K
ane QQDEIQleee. 109. Undercapitalization, of course,
created more jobs because the company had to depend on
manual laborers rather than on machinary which it
could not afford to buy.

Despite several articles on the impact of the
railroad's development. See Cynthia Crosbey, ”Railway
Development in Malawi: The early years, 1895-1915,” in
Roderick J. Macdonald, Eren Nyaealane re Malagi: Leroy
Vail, "Railway Development and Colonial
Underdevelopment: The Nyasaland Case," in Robin Palmer
and Neil Parsons. eds. . The Beets 91 Rural Belem in

central and §euthern Afriee (Berkeley. 1977): and
Leroy Vail, "The Making of an Imperial Slum: Nyasaland

and its Railways, 1895-1935," Jenrnal,ef,Afrigan
3151922. 15. 1 (1975)-

Mandala. Her]: and 92:11:21.1...“ 110-

The railway archives are in poor shape, and most files
are today uncatalogued and unsupervised.

M.R.A., Shire Highlands Railway, File 3, Circular
Memorandum, May 8 1905.

M.R.A., Shire Highlands Railway, File 9, Deputy
Commissioner to Manager, S.H.R., February 8 1905: File
6, Deputy Governor Pearce to Agent, S.H.R., November
24 1908. It is worth pointing out that mine labor was
no less brutal than rail work, as Charles van Onselen

147

has made abundantly clear in his seminal study of
Zimbabwean mine labor. See Charles van Onselen,

'JAfriean Mine.Laheur.in.Senthern.Bhedesia
(Londonm, 1976).

82. M.R.A., Shire Highlands Railway, File 3, Circular
Memorandum, May 8 1905.

83. Woods, "Planters...".

84. Relations between the Crown Agents and the railroad were
always strained, as I learned when I visited the Crown
Agents' current headquarters in the fall of 1985 and
found that the archivists still bitterly remembered
the Nyasaland railroad.

85. In 1913, the company cashiered checker Mohamad Hyat for
trying to seduce the wife of a telegraph operator
named Esau. Hyat's defense was that "the women
referred to are prostitutes...5/- is the price of
these women. We can buy these women for 5/-. I bought
one already. we can keep a woman as a wife if we pay
5/- to her parents. I got one at Mlanje Road for 5/-
when I was Station Master at that Station. She is
still there. I left her there...Everyone has women in
this country. We cannot touch any woman who has a
husband." M.R.A., Shire Highlands Railways, File 1,
Minutes of Officers' Meeting held at Limbe, August 22
1913.

86. In the manner that Sara Berry has eloquently described
in Nigeria. See Sara Berry, Earnere Kerk fer Their
aenee Aeenmeletieni.uehilityl and glass Eermetien.in
an Exteneee Xeruha (BerkeleY. 1985)- Of
course, it is worth noting two things at this point.
The first is that work on neighboring estates
undoubtedly created a strong influence which
is virtually impossible to discern from the existing
historiography. The second is that evidence cited in
chapter seven indicates that despite labor emigration,
traditional society was still strong in central
Malawi. However, in this context, it is essential to
remember that idiom and structure need to be more
clearly defined before we can conclude too much from
the apparent survival of ”traditional” society despite
the loss of migrant laborers.

87. Quoted in Boeder, 51:.511229111. 80.
88. Sharpe to Colonial Office, July 10 1906, C.O. 525/13.

89. Sharpe to Harris, March 26 1906, C.O. 525/16.

90.

148

Pearce to Colonial Office, August 16, 1906, C.O.
525/13.

91. As the state eventually realized, M.N.A. A 2/1/3,

92.

93.

94.

95.

96.

97.

Department of Agriculture Monthly Report, June 1909.
Ironically, the desire to keep profits home may have
been the reason behind the state's decision to
encourage renewed European emigration later in the
decade.

The tobacco industry remains one of Malawi's great
untold stories. Only a few people have written on it.
W.H.J. Rangeley's work, although a little dated,
remains outstanding because of his unprecedented
access to major actors in the drama. For more on
tobacco, see W. Twiston Davies, 21:1! Teare 91
Eregreee (Bristol, 1958 [?]): W.H.J. Rangeley, "A
Brief History of the Tobacco Industry in Nyasaland,
Part I.” The Nyasaland Jenrnal. X. I (January. 1957):
Rangeley, ”A Brief History of the Tobacco Industry in
Nyasaland. Part II." The Eyaeeland.leurnel. K. II
(July, 1957): Rangeley, "A Brief History of the
Tobacco Industry in Nyasaland, Additional Notes,” The

Eyeselane.leurnal. XII. 2 (July 1959)-

Rangeley, ”A Brief History...Part I,” 70. It is worth
noting that a later corporate history of the Blantyre
8 East Africa Company claims that they first sent a
consignmment of tobacco to Liverpool in 1903, see
"History of Blantyre 8 East Africa Cempany," C.O.
525/208/44332/3: M.N.A. 12405 19 3 7 1568 (1949), 3.
I am deeply indebted to Robin Palmer for sending me a
copy of this and the British Central Africa Company's
corporate histories.

Mr. E.H.M. Gunn to Mr. H.W. Gunn, February 16 1906,
quoted in Rangeley, ”A Brief History...Additional
Notes,” 24. It is also worth noting that later
histories of the British Central Africa Company never
mention this shipment or correspondence, "History
of the British Central Africa CompaRy,' C.O.
525/208/4332/3: M.N.A. 12258 19 3 6 1567 (1948).

Davies, 21111111. 9-10.

The dates remain unclear, see Davies, Iiitxeee. 15 and
Rangeley, 'A-Brief History...Part I," 25. McCall
claims Boyd came in 1906 and was a throughly

experienced tobacco grower,“ M.N.A. A 5/2/1, MCCall to

Governor, December [7] 1909.

Society of Malawi Library, Rangeley Papers, R 1/3/6,
Boyd's Report to the Imperial Tobacco Company's Head

149

Office, December 12 1907.

98. The reason being that tobacco, like so many commodities

during this period, was sold in auctions in the United
Kingdom, and local buyers could not pay planters until
they knew what they would receive for the leaf.
Rangeley accurately points out that few could afford
this wait because they were in debt and interest
rates on loans apparently ranged from 7% to 15%. See
Rangeley, "A Brief History...Part I," 75: and Sharpe
to Harris, July 2 1906, C.O. 525/13. For more on pre-
war marketing in the United Kingdom, see "The
Marketing of Nyasaland Tobacco in London," The

Treeieal.Asrieulturist. KEV. 2 (August. 1915)-

99. S.O.M., Rangeley Papers, R 1/3/6, A. Metcalfe, Manager‘

100.

of British Central Africa Company to Secretary,
Imperial Tobacco Company, October 15 1907.

S.O.M., Rangeley Papers, R 1/3/6, Boyd's Report,
December 12 1907. Several things are worth noting
about the correspondence in Rangeley's files from
1907. First, in 1958, the Federation administration
restricted him from publishing in his ”Additional
Notes...” the sections quoted here because they might
have an ”effect on the efficiency of the B. and E. A.
Company and [because] the Company might be expected to
take exception." Second, the quote from Metcalfe in
particular highlights the way in which the British
Central Africa Company sought new sources of capital
for the country, a campaign which included the
publication of a handbook designed to entice settlers
to Malawi. See Sir Harry Johnston, naneheeh‘re‘hririeh

Afriea (London, 1905). Ironically, these
events indicate that corporations were then doing what
historians often claim the state was undertaking, thus
continuing a tradition of confusion about the
difference between capitalists and the government and
showing that the country desperately needs the
development of the kind of business historiography
which A.G. Hopkins argued for almost fifteen years
ago. See A.G. Hopkins, ”Imperial Business in Africa.
Part II: InterpretationS." leurnel.ef.bfriean nietery.
17, 2 (1976). Ironically, probably the best recent
history of the British Central Africa Company is an
unpublished paper by an amateur historian, Gordon A.
Davies, which was to be the introduction to the
Society of Malawi's reprint of Johnston's Haheheehrrr.
Unfortunately, the Society heavily edited this paper
and the publication's introduction is much weaker, see
Gordon A. Davies, "Introduction to the New Edition,"
n.d.

101.

102.

103.

104.

105.

106.

107.

108.
109.

110.

111.

112.

113.

114.

150

Which one agriculturist said was "exactly what the
tobacco industry needed," M.N.A. A 5/2/1, Simpson's
Notes on NyaSaland [n.d.]. This report was probably
written sometime in mid-1908.

Report on Agriculture by Simpson, enclosed in Sharpe to
Colonial Office, October 14 1908, C.O. 525/24.

M.N.A. A 5/1/1, Annual Report of the Scientific
Department, 1908.

M.N.A. A 5/1/1, Annual Report, 1906: Annual Report
1908. It is interesting to note that the government
actually did conduct a number of tobacco experiments
under the discredited MCClounie, but by this time no
one either remembered or cared. See, for example,
M.N.A. A 2/1/1, Preliminary Report by MCClounie,
January 11 1901: McClounie to Manning, March 30 1901:
and McClounie to Sharpe, September 24 1901.

This Association has received considerably more
attention than the Imperial Company and is the subject
of a dissertation currently being done by Jenny Dawe
at the University of Edinburgh.

British Cotton Growers Association to Colonial Office,
October 27 1904: British Cotton Growers Association to
Colonial Office, December 7 1904, C.O. 525/6.

British Cotton Growers Association to Colonial Office,
September 13 1904: British Cotton Growers Association
to Colonial Office, October 27 1904, C.O. 525/6.
Sharpe to Colonial Office, May 8 1905, C.O. 525/8.
Robert Wallace to Ewing, December 1 1905, C.O. 525/11.

Pearce to Colonial Office, February 7 1906, C.O.
525/12.

M.N.A. A 5/2/1, Simpson's Notes on Nyasaland [n.d.].

Sharpe to Harris, July 2 1906, c.o. 525/13. Part of
the problem here was undoubtedly a clash of unpleasant
personalities. McCracken points out that Simpson was a
person as disliked in Uganda (see below) as he was by
Sharpe. See McCracken, "Experts...,' 103.

Report on Agriculture by Simpson, enclosed in Sharpe
to Harris, July 14 1906, C.O. 525/13.

Sharpe to Harris, July 14 1906, C.O. 525/13.

115.

116.

117.

118.

119.

120.

121.

122.

123.

124.

125.

126.

151

For instance, in September 1906, he complained about
inadequate travelling votes and the planters' need for
help, Memo by Simpson, September 3 1906, enclosed in
Sharpe to Colonial Office, October 16 1906, C.O.
525/14.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, October 16 1906, C.O.
525/14.

Sharpe to Harris, October 10 1908, C.O. 525/24.
Considering Simpson's consequent positing to Uganda
and his impeccable credentials (MCCracken notes he was
a "prize-winning graduate of Edinburgh University”

who gained extensive experience in cotton cultivation
in Egypt before coming to Malawi, MCCracken,
'Experts...," 103), one must wonder whether his
ability eventually compensated for his personality,
even with as testy a person as Sharpe.

British Cotton Growers Association to Colonial office,
may 9 1906, C.O. 525/16.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, March 21 1910, C.O. 525/32.

British Cotton Growers Association to Colonial Office,
May 9 1906, C.O. 525/16; M.N.A. A 2/1/3, Report on
Agency of the British Cotton Growers Association,
[n.d]. the latter was probably written sometime in
1909.

The ability of the Association to do more was
demonstrated in Manning to Colonial office, December
30 1907, C.O. 525/19. As to their decision to pursue
their own interests, one need only remember that in
1910, they received a 110,000 grant in aid before they
would continue operations. And see chapter 7 for how
they later obtained a buying monopoly.

Central Afrieen.Tines. March 30 1907.

Blue Book, 1907-08, enclosed in Sharpe to Harris, July
10 1908, C.O. 525/24. This report showed commodity
exports rose some 118,357 to a total of 168,604.

M.N.A. A 2/1/3, Agricultural Department Report for
June 1909.

£entral.Afriean.Times. November 9 1907.

This body was first proposed by Sharpe in 1907, Sharpe
to Colonial Office, February 28 1907, C.O. 525/17. It
first met on May 7 1908. See C.O. 626/6 for the file
of its minutes. The best secondary work on it is P.V.

127.

128.

129.

130.

131.

132.

133.

134.

135.

136.

137.

138.

139.

140.

141.

152

Turner, "The Nyasaland Legislative Council 1907-1931,"
.flualaxil.Jeurnal.ef.Seeial.§eienee. 4 (1974)-

Minutes of the Executive Council, July 6 1909, C.O.
626/2.

For instance, see genrralflhrrieanflTinee, April 18
1908, April 25 1908, may 9 1908, and May 23 1908.

Blue Book, 1907-08, enclosed in Sharpe to Harris, July
10 1908, C.O. 525/24: Sharpe to Colonial Office, June 7
1908, c.o. 525/23.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, May 8 1909, C.O. 525/28:
Sharpe to Colonial Office, October 28 1909, C.O.
525/29. This correspondence pointed out that but tax
receipts actually went down in 1907-08.

Annual report, 1906-07, C.O. 525/18: Pearce to
Colonial Office, October 9 1907, C.O. 525/19.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, October 28, 1909, C.O.
525/29.

Primarily because Whitehall stopped Rand miners from
using Malawians underground due to high mortality
rates, Manning to Colonial Office, January 17 1908,
c.o. 525/23.

Manning to Colonial Office, January 17 1908, C.O.
525/23. .

Sharpe to Colonial Office, June 7 1908, C.O. 525/23.

As Boeder tangentially points out, Boeder, "The
EffBCtB. e e p” 40.

Manning to Colonial Office, January 17 1908, C.O.
525/23. Knipe sought to use Malawians underground in
return for beginning to recruit locally again.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, November 27 1908, C.O.
525/25: Sharpe to Colonial Office, June 7 1909, C.O.
525/29.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, March 31 1909, C.O. 525/28.

Manning to Colonial Office, March 11 1911, C.O.
525/36.

Page mentioned this incident on two occasions:
Page, ”Mediums. . . ," 6: Page, ”Malawians in the Great
"are e e ' . 15-16.

142.

143.

144.

145.

146.

147.

148.

149.

153

Pearce to Colonial Office, August 31 1907, C.O.
525/18.

Page "Mediums...,”: J.M. Schoffeleers, "The History
and Political Role of the M'Bona Cult...".

Schoffeleers, "The Socialization...,": Mandala, Kerr
and gentrel.

Like much of Malawi's social history, dances like
malieehga are understudied. For an introduction to

them, see T.O. Ranger, nahee and.Seeietx (London,
1975), 115-122.

Page, "Mediums...," 6.

As Sydney Linyama demonstrated for Likoma Island. See
Sydney Waluza Crispen Linyama, ”Perceptions of
Identity: The Case of Likoma Island, 1855-1955,”
History Department Seminar, Chancellor College,
February 25 1986.

Schoffeleers' and Page's emphasis on the intellectual
origins of phenomena make them focus on ethnic rather
than class identification. The problem with that
approach is that we fail to differentiate the impact
of colonialism on different groups within an ethnic
group. The best example of how this problem can skew
the country's history can be found in the differences
between the saga of the Lomwe represented by Robert
Boeder and the Nkanda Lomwe described by Alfred
Ntonga. Boeder, following an established
historiographical tradition, sees the Lomwe as
oppressed and marginalized while Ntonga points out
that Nkhanda's people integrated quite readily into
Mlanje's colonial environment. See Robert Boeder,
fillen; Majeriry (Pretoria, 1984): Alfred Veryson
Ntonga, "The Lomwe of Chief Nkanda: Their Intrusion
into and Adaptation to the Malawian Environment,"
History Department Seminar, Chancellor College, April
22 1985.

Kamwana's influence has long been noted, especially as
it related to the Chilembwe Rebellion, see Shepperson
and Price, Indepeneent.1frieen. 150-156: and Page,
”Malawians in the Great War...,' 16-18: and Jane and
Ian Linden, "John Chilembwe and the New Jerusalem,”
Jen:nel.ef Afriean.nietery. 12. 4 (1971). 635- One of
the best summaries of Kamwana's life is ”Chirwa,
”Masokwa...". The state was aware of the danger
Kamwana presented, and in 1909 began preparations to
deport because it feared he would ”instil seditious or
troublesome doctrines into the natives of Nyasaland,"

150.

151.

152.

153.
154.
155.

156.

157.

158.

159.

160.

161.

162.

163.

164.

165.

166.

167.

154

Sharpe to Colonial Office, May 15 1909, C.O. 525/28.
Chirwa, ”Masokwa...,' 14.

J. van velsen, "Migration as a Positive Factor...,”
277, cited in Boeder, "The Effects...,' 40.

Annual Report 1907-08: Pearce to Colonial Office, July
2 1907, c.o. 525/18.

Manning to Colonial Office, May 26 1908, C.O. 525/23.
Sharpe to Colonial Office, March 13 1909, C.O. 525/28.
Sharpe to Colonial Office, march 31 1909, C.O. 525/28.

Pearce to Colonial Office, October 30 1909, C.O.
525/29.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, January 29 1910, C.O.
525/32.

Annual Report, 1906-07, C.O. 525/18.

Pearce to Colonial Office, October 30, 1909, C.O.
525/29.

Numerous oral informants mention that their families
migrated south to work in the colonial economy. For
instance, see Interview, Ketulo Master, Litonton
village, T.A. Chikowi, Zomba, July 9 1985.

Legislative Council Minutes, May 24-26 1910, C.O.
626/6.

M.N.A. A 2/1/3, Department of Agriculture MOnthly
Report, September 1909.

M.N.A. S 10/1/8/3, Rough Rules and Regulations of the
Native Industrial Union, August 14 1909.

M.N.A. S 10/1/8/3, Minutes of the Native Industrial
Union Meeting, August 14 1909.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, October 16 1909, C.O.
525/29.

Manning to Colonial Office, January 31 1908: Binnie to
Manning, enclosed in Manning to Colonial Office, March
12 1908, C.O. 525/23.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, October 10 1908, C.O.
525/24. McCall's enormous enthusiasm and energy are

168.

169.

170.

171.

172.

173.

174.

175.

176.

155

evident in his initial reports. For instance, see
M.N.A. 5/1/1, Department of Agriculture Annual report,
1908. McCall was also valuable because he restored
amiable relations with the British Cotton Growers
Association. See M.N.A., A 1/2/1, J. Arthur Hutton to
J. Stewart McCall, September 8 1909.

M.N.A. A 5/2/1, Report on Chipande Estate, by McCall
[n.d.]. This report was probably written sometime in
1910.

Which is actually the basis for McCracken's assertion
that the state favored estate cultivation after
Simpson's departure , McCracken, "Experts. . . ," 104.
Ironically, one of McCall's earliest accomplishments
was to develop ways in which African cultivation could
satisfy the needs of the British Cotton Growers
Association, M.N.A., A 2/1/3, Report on Nyasaland
Cotton, April 24 1909. For more on African cotton
cultivation, see P.T. Terry "The Rise of the African
Cotton Industry in Nyasaland, 1902 to 1908,” The

Nyasaland leurnal xv. 1 (1962).

M.N.A., A 2/1/3, Department of Agriculture Monthly
Report, June 1909.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, March 6 1909, C.O. 525/28.

Executive Council Minutes, October 18 1909, C.O.
626/2.

Sharpe to Colonial Office, October 18 1909, C.O.
525/29.

By 1909, Sharpe reported that several companies had
extensive freehold estates in Malawi. Those companies
and their acreage are as follows:

Blantyre & East Africa 167,000 acres
British Central Africa Company 372,138 acres
Bruce Trust 159,890 acres
Shire Highlands Railroad Company 243,634 in reserve
British South Africa Company 2,767,900 acres

The British South Africa Company's holding were in the
northern part of the country, but the rest were
concentrated in the Shire Highlands. Sharpe to
Colonial Office, March 6 1909, C.O. 525/28.

Although the low wages might have stemmed the flow of
labor to estates.

M.N.A. A 2/3/1, Department of Agriculture Quarterly
Report, September 30 1910.

156

177. M.N.A. A 5/2/1, Extracts from the Resident's Handbook,
January 8 1910.

Chapter 5
Reform and Rebellion, 1911-1916

The new decade was a pivotal period for Malawi's
colonial administration. Colonial society, despite a severe
buffeting from the territory's unstable economy, finally
began to mature. As it did, the state slowly began to
reform to meet the problems generated from the emergence of
new social structures. But the administration found
transition difficult, and little actual reform occurred
before the First World War intervened. Zomba was unable,
therefore, to establish a new political order before the
simmering tensions in Malawi's society exploded in
rebellion.

Ironically, much of the state’s paralysis stemmed from
what has been traditionally perceived as the colony's
economic maturation.1 But such claims about Malawi's
economic evolution are misleading. Productive activities
did not actually "mature" so much as they finally
integrated into the expanding world economy. In essence,
the colony benefitted from the final articulation between
metropolitan interests and local producers rather than from
a real entrenchment of productive activities. Indeed, the
schisms and fractionalization of productive forces evident
in the colony's early years not only continued but also
widened, making the emergence of a dominant mode of
production difficult and hindering the evolution of a civil
society amenable to Zomba's ambitions.

157

158

The most obvious example of these divisions can be
seen among the planters. Although estate owners fared
comparatively well during this era, the old split between
large estate owners and smaller agriculturists not only
continued but also grew worse as new settlers moved into
the region to start farming. Although virtually no research
has been done on these European immigrants, it is fair to
surmise that many of them started estates dependent on
wage, not tenant labor.2

That dependence on wage earners was difficult because
large estate owners relied more heavily on tenant services
than ever before.3 The absorption of wage earners by these
landlords reduced the food producing capacity, and the
recruitment of workers became more difficult. The net
effect was that the large estates prospered more than their
smaller neighbors dependent on alienated labor.

Nor was tenant production itself uniform. Although
most commentators emphasize the use of rhahgara during this
period, it is also clear that sharecropping was emerging as

a major mode of production.4

The emergence of sharecropping
was crucial because it provided a means by which large
estate owners could rely upon their tenants without the
onerous coercion typically needed for rhaneara. Thus, large
estate owners were finding a way in which they could
produce goods without using free labor or antagonizing the
indigenous population.

The appearance of tenant farming coincided with an

159

expansion of peasant production. After 1910, the cotton
industry largely depended on peasant production as planters
embraced first tobacco and then tea. The rise of indigenous
production naturally worked against primitive accumulation
by providing the local community with the means to survive
and even prosper without selling their labor time. It thus
threatened the capitalist sector by restricting the
development of a free labor force.

The establishment of peasant production was not the
only way in which the indigenous population adapted to the
colonial economy: Africans also began to pursue more
extensive agriculture on their own estates.5 But African
estate owners, while initially successful, labored under
enormous handicaps which frequently thwarted their
ambitions. Land, labor and capital were all scarce, and
African planters suffered even more from these deficiencies
than small European planters.6

The resentment generated by these limitations was
just one part of a broad disillusionment which matured in
Malawi during this era. European capitalists, although they
suffered fewer restrictions than their indigenous
counterparts, solidified their anti-administration feelings
as multinationals squeezed them during the economic
downturn immediately before the war. Morevover, peasant
producers and shangara workers became even more resentful
as prices fluctuated and large estate owners placed more

demands on their tenants. Although many of these grievances

160

remained unarticulated, their presence created a
potentially dissident population which posed a serious
threat to Zomba.

The administration was aware of these problems and
tried to implement some reforms which could extend its
authority, especially among rural Africans. But the
emergence of a malleable civil society depended on a
rationalization of the colonial economy which the state
could not accomplish. The fractionalization of the economy,
with its numerous productive systems, meant that there were
too many class positions for the state to integrate into a
new ideological framework. Moreover, as the fractions
fought against each other, the resulting friction strained
Zomba's tenuous authority even further by generating new
resentments.

The administration might ultimately have solved these
problems if it had had enough time. But the reform state
had only four years to order its house before the First
World War erupted. This conflagration had an enormous
impact on Malawian society, and its outbreak gave
frustrated indigenes an opportunity to rebel. Their ability
to take advantage of that chance during the Chilembwe
Rebellion showed how much the state had failed in Malawi
and how much Malawi needed real reform. In essence, the
reform state had emerged too late, and its tardiness
produced a political crisis which the state could no longer
ignore.

161

Nothing symbolized the sunset of Malawi's conquest
state more than the departure of the territory's governor,
Sir Alfred Sharpe. Long anxious to leave the country, the
governor finally announced in 1909 that after his next
leave, he would refuse another posting to Malawi.7 The
Colonial Office offered telling testimony about its opinion
of his ability by quietly accepting his resignation in
March 1910. The conquest state's last great administrator
was now gone, and with him went the final impediment to the
erection of a new state.

Sharpe's exit was a mixed blessing. It would be three
long years until the colonial office found a permanent
replacement: in the interim, the territory had three
different governors appointed a total of four times. To
make matters worse, three of these appointments were as
"acting" proconsuls, leaving officeholders with little
security with which to inaugurate reforms. In this kind of
uncertain environment, replacing the conquest state with a
new political system was extremely difficult.8

Administrative uncertainty did not completely paralyze
the state. Even as officials played musical chairs with the
governor's throne, new laws sought to expand the
government's authority in rural areas. In July 1910, acting
governor Wallis proposed a new Regulation of Villages
Ordinance ”with a view to facilitating the better
administrative control of native affairs."9 In particular,
the new bill aimed to eliminate ”two evils [which] have

162

arisen": the inability to collect hut taxes and to detect
crime. The law aimed to alleviate these problems by making
Africans live in clearly defined villages, thereby stopping
the dispersal of the indigenous population. Later that
year, the administration tried to strengthen this ordinance
even more by making Africans who lived outside the new
villages to pay higher hut taxes, thus forcing ”the
increasing class which is inclined to break away from
ordinary village life...pay for the privilege."10

Passing laws to regiment rural society did little good
because of Zomba's lack of authority. Therefore, the
administration decided that it needed to strengthen its
authority and in 1912 passed a new District Administration
Native Ordinance. The Deputy Governor made it clear that
the DANO was a means of strengthening the 1910 laws by
stressing that it was an "amplification" of the earlier
laws.11 Local officials supported the central
administration's assertions by proclaiming that "the
breaking down of tribal organization and the powers of
chiefs" had become so pronounced that they had to abandon
their previous policy of benign neglect to stop ”the
tendency of natives to free themselves from control and
discipline."12 The Chiradzulu Resident supported this dire
view by asserting that "there are but few proper villages
in the district, houses being scattered in two and three
all about the place."13 Several months later, the same
resident stated that he needed "chiefs and headmen

163

responsible for seeing that their people pay their
taxes."14

By the immediate pre-war period, traditional rulers
with any influence were few and far between. The continuous
waves of emigrants confused ethnic identification, and few
real traditional authorities were left on the ground. For
instance, in Chiradzulu the district resident bemoaned the
fact that "the power of headmen is not recognized to any
great extent."15 Although contemporary headmen whom I
interviewed insisted that their ancestors were all chiefs
before colonialism, it is clear that many of their
ancestors obtained their positions because of participation
in the colonial hierarchy rather than through traditional
authority.16 The state tried to find legitimate
authorities. In 1912, the administration, aiming to
facilitate the implementation of the new DANO, published a
list of all "the traditional authorities" in the country.17
But the register was apparently incomplete and inaccurate
since officials were still searching for Africans to
assume positions of authority for decades after its
publication.18

Ironically, one reason for the erosion of traditional
authority was the state's attitude towards chiefs. In
return for collecting taxes and reporting miscreants, the
administration paid traditional authorities very little. In
the first year of the new DANO, Zomba gave a total of some

400 to the various headmen in the territory.19 Years later,

164

an official remembered that the headmen "were given very
nice chairs, robes and chains and a miserable pittance out
of all keeping with the duties imposed upon them."20 Under
these circumstances, it is little wonder that the
administration had a hard time implementing the ordinance.
Few headmen could be expected to collaborate for such small
return, and even if they did, their subjects could hardly
respect individuals whose service had such little value.

But the new legislation's real importance was not its
efficacy but rather that, by establishing a system of
indigenous authority, it created a parallel society.
Africans now had to exist in "traditional" societies for an
indefinite future. Such a condition was a tacit admission
that the state could not maintain its authority as economic
conditions transformed indigenous society. Primitive
accumulation and economic change had undermined traditional
authority, but the state was unable to fill the consequent
vacuum and establish a new social order. So it tried to
reestablish a version of the old one, an action bound to
interfere with the continuing process of accumulation.

Few could dispute that the state needed to take some
action quickly. The transformation of indigenous society
was already startling. Africans were readily taking up the
few available opportunities. In 1912, the Chiradzulu
Resident reported that more Africans were taking out store
licenses and that "this means of earning a living seems to

have become popular amongst the local population.'21 A year

165

later, he added that ”a great many natives are starting
trading in a small way on their own."22

Even more important was the emergence of African
estate agriculture, especially in Chiradzulu.23 In 1913,
that district's resident claimed that the Mtaka brothers,
Gordon and Hugh, sold ”1400 lbs [of tobacco] to Mr. Hynde
at 3d per lb. also 3 1/2 tons to the Imperial Tobacco
Company realising on some 4 3/4 at 3d per lb."24 He added
that they also had ”several trading concerns of their own
in North Eastern Rhodesia." Nor were the Mtakas alone: the
Resident also mentioned the activities of Duncan Njilima,
John Chilembwe, John Grey Kufa, Augustine Mlanga, Sam
Sonbani and Thomas Lulanja.25

Having established profitable enterprises, the African
planters now wanted to enjoy the same privileges as
Europeans. In particular, black estate owners wanted to be
able to sign their employees' labor tickets, a prerequisite
formerly reserved for Europeans alone. In both 1912 and
1913, the Chiradzulu Resident allowed a few Africans to
sign tickets and pleaded with the administration to abolish
the labor rebate. Apparently, no one in Zomba objected to
this unilateral action even though government policy on the
question remainedambiguous.26 On another occasion, the
resident complained that one African was actually demanding
thaneara from his tenants.27

Clearly the state had to do something. These people

were just the vanguard of an emergent class which owed no

166

allegiance to traditional systems and little more to the
colonial state. Their loyalty was predicated upon adequate
returns from investments and European recognition of their
own status. But the Africans' activities would inevitably
erode the racial authority which propped up most of the
colonial edifice, and it would be increasingly difficult to
meet their demands and not frustrate their ambitions.
Moreover, given the history of planter-state relations, it
was almost inevitable that these people would become
disaffected.

Nor were the Chiradzulu planters the only African
groups who emerged during the country's economic
transformation. A class of educated Africans was also
shouldering its way onto the scene. The first sign of this
group's emerging consciousness was the establishment of the
North Nyasa Native Association in 1912.28 This body, the
first of Malawi's many native associations, represented
educated Africans who wished to assist in the development
of the territory. Like their kin to the south, they used
this organization to further their ambitions as their
desires were increasingly thwarted.29

It would undoubtedly be a long time before there were
enough African planters and clerks to overthrow the
administration. But if these people could rally the
thousands of less successful but equally alienated Africans
to their side, there was a real threat to the state. The

dramatic growth of separatist churches already indicated

167

that many Africans were seeking an ideology which would
suit their desires.30 If the state did not intercede and
get a firmer grip on the situation, the socio-economic
transformation would eventualy produce rebellion and
sedition on a grand scale.

By passing DANO, the state tried to ensure that these
emergent classes would not make alliances with the majority
of the population. The headmen would serve as the state’s
ears, eyes and strong right arm. Zomba was aware of its
need to establish a neo-traditional hierarchy to compete
with new class interests. When it introduced the DANO, the
administration frankly admitted that "it was intended to
build up an organization which would control and restrain
the rising generation which were now largely without those
restraints and controls under which their parents were born
and lived."31

Ironically, the state's determination to establish its
authority indirectly through neo-traditionalism was a tacit
admission that the coercion of the conquest state was no
longer workable. Manning himself noted that ”the period
when such [state] power was more in evidence in dealing
with natives risings is now being forgotten and a younger
generation is arising which has little recollection of
these events."32 Unless Zomba embarked on a new wave of
conquest, there was no chance of reminding Africans of the
state's latent coercive powers unless a rebellion broke

out. The creation of tribes was simply designed to

168

integrate emerging classes into a civil society which would
allow the state to rule through hegemony rather than
through a disruptive and debilitating coercion.

Manning further demonstrated his anxiety about
indigenous control by changing language requirements for
administrators. Before 1912, all officers received a bonus
for speaking Swahili even though that language was not used
in Malawi. Manning decided to replace Swahili with Chiyao,
a language spoken by many Malawians, especially in the
southern region of the country.33 At the same time, the
governor stressed the importance of some facility in
Chinyanja as well. Gone were the days when interpreters
would suffice: the new state wanted its officers to be able
to speak directly to their subjects.

The state did not rely on these actions alone. At the
same time that the DANO was being passed, the
administration sought to exploit educated Africans by
establishing a native civil service. Manning felt that its
creation was of "an urgent nature" in order to prevent the
emigration of mission-educated Africans to neighboring
territories where their skills would assist competing
economies.34 But the new service also provided a way by
which the state could directly coopt the potential leaders
of the indigenous community and keep them under control.
Few Aficans would defy the state if their livelihood was
threatened.

The government also assumed a more interventionist

169

economic posture. In June 1910, Zomba proposed a new
licensing bill, a measure Sharpe had resisted for years.
This legisation was designed to regularize the rather
helter-skelter economic activity in the territory. It also
strove to end the fraud which accompanied many business
bankruptcies, especially in Indian concerns. In this way,
creditors had a better chance of getting their debts paid,
and capital could flow in more readily.35
The state tried to influence indigenous economic
activities in other ways as well. In September, it passed a
new cotton ordinance which Zomba hoped would reduce some of
the chaos in the marketplace. In particular, it aimed to
control the distribution of seed to Africans and regulate
markets.36 From now on, only the state could distribute
cotton seed to Africans on crown land. Cotton purchasers
also had to obtain a license before they could buy their
product, and even then they had to make reports to local
officials about how much they consumed. These rules sought
to prevent "some unscrupulous person” from taking advantage
of African growers.37 Zomba obviously hoped that putting
restraints on chicanery in the markets would limit any
discontent which might emerge as Africans entered the
market.38
The administration was not content with regulatory
legislation alone: it also entered into an agreement with

the BCGA which strove to increase African production. The

heart of this agreement involved a grant of 10,000 per

170

annum in return for the association's establishment of
ginneries and provision of free seed to the administration.
And the association lived up to its end of the bargain.
McCall reported that the association put in twelve
ginneries around Port Herald alone by the beginning of
1911.39

But like many of its actions, the administration’s new
policy was not an unqualified success. Residents in some
districts found that the locals wanted more seed than they
were supposed to provide, thus fueling rather than
relieving the anxiety of the indigenous population.
Moreover, planters who had previously provided seed ‘
resisted the new injunction and distributed it anyway.40

This type of resistance made the law ineffective, but
the state was determined to make it work. Consequently it
passed another ordinance in 1912 which sought to end the
"system of promiscuous sale without check" by establishing
markets in which district and agricultural department
personnel actually auctioned off goods and checked
weights.41 Zomba also ordered its district officers to make
sure that all cotton was sold at an officially determined
minimum price and that all transactions were paid in cash.
Moreover, officials were supposed to make sure that
Africans received a premium for better grade cotton. The
state expected to be compensated by the implementation of a
small licensing fee and new market levies.

Like its predecessor, this program was not an

171

overwhelming success. Marketers found it difficult to live
with the new cash rules. In May 1912, an assistant
agriculturist complained that ”100s are not being allowed,
and when the buyers run out of cash the market has to
stop."42 And since many markets were located where there
were ”no banks, trading stores or other means of procuring
cash," buyers often found that they "had to go to
considerable expense to bring surplus back."43 Such
setbacks inevitably caused great "disappointment” to the
African producer and thus increased, rather than reduced,
indigenous anxiety.44

Price fixing also caused problems. The administration
explained that price fixing aimed to stop the "tendency to
overestimate the local value of native grown cotton [which]
has been recognized as a danger to be avoided in view of
the adverse effects which a compulsory reduction in prices
would have on the native mind and consequently on the
native industry."5 But actually setting reasonable minimum
prices was a difficult task. Cotton consumers, most notably
the BCGA, and the administration fought several skirmishes
over the question of a fair minimum price."6

District officials were not enthuiastic as the
ordinance was extended to their districts. The resident at
Ncheu was ”afraid the Native grower and the trader will
both be discouraged from taking further interest in the
industry" if the new markets were established.47 He later

added that "the system of market which you propose to

172

introduce will injure the industry as far as this District
is concerned."48

Pessimism was not the only problem facing the
administration: it also experienced difficulties policing
the markets. In at least one district, a government eaeirae
”has been taking food from natives and not paying for it,
[8] beating natives."49 Such behavior could hardly
encourage the local inhabitants to take up the industry.

But control was more important than production at this
time. Despite, or perhaps because of, a dramatic increase
in indigenous wealth, Manning was faced with an
increasingly chaotic situation in the districts.50 African
leaders were openly disputing succession to various
chieftaincies and refusing to follow the instructions of
district officers.51 Mere ominously, the practice of
stealing cotton from European estates for sale in African
markets had now become "rather common."52 Mereover, Manning
had decided to raise hut taxes to 4/- and 8/-, a move sure
to incur the wrath of the indigenous population.53 He also
decided to end the cotton rebate even though taxes
increased.

The state's emphasis on control was a result of its
sanguine feeling that more and more Africans were seeking
their fortunes in the fields. McCall noted that "increasing
numbers of nativee...are now turning their attention to
cotton growing."54 As time went on, this initial optimism

would fade, but for now the state was concerned about

173

controlling what looked like a promising future. Here
again, the theme of restraint played itself out. The state
was clearly aiming to make sure that economic developments
went smoothly in a fashion which would not upset the
political order; More ominously, one can also begin to see
the hand of a dual economy aimed at keeping Europeans
segregated economically as well as socially and
politically.

Administrative changes reflected this new emphasis on
control. After he assumed the helm, Governor Manning
decided to reorganize the administration's secretariat.
Claiming that "the organization of the upper or executive
branch of the Secretariat has hitherto been rendered
difficult by the existence of anomalous titles among the
purely clerical staff," he redesigned the entire
organization.55 The most important reform established the
position of chief secretary which he was determined "should
be regarded as being open to all promising officers
irrespective of the...service to which they belong." In
particular, he felt that the best district officers should
be chosen. Such a move was dramatic. Bringing the most able
residents into Zomba ensured that district affairs would
receive more informed and careful consideration than ever
before. For the first time, the simple district officer
would have an ally in the capital.

More importantly, Zomba would now be able to learn

more about how to get things done on the ground. For years,

174

the administration had depended on two hierarchies: one in
Zomba and one in the districts. As a result, legislation
passed by the central branch was either impractical or
unrealistic. Now people who allegedly knew something about
everyday life were to walk the capital's corridors of
power. And once again, the theme of authority crept into
the state’s deliberations.

Even as the state sought to gain greater control of
its indigenous population, its ability to influence the
territory's European population declined drastically. As
usual, the most serious complaint was about labor. In
particular, the unofficial community was incensed about
government encouragement of African commodity production
and control of the markets for those goods. As early as
December 1910, MCCall's reports included signs of
increasing stress between the planters and the Agriculture
Department.56 By March 1911, the administration reported
that the "considerable curtailment of proposed planting
operations is in my opinion due solely to the shortage of
labour."57

Part of the labor problem resulted from the
fragmentation of the planter class itself. As the economy
recovered from depression and economic activity increased,
the schism between large and small planters became
increasingly serious. In July 1911, the administration
reported that there was a serious shortage of land because

several large corporations retained extensive holdings in

175

order to control the tenants upon whom they relied for
labor.58 The local press was even more hostile, complaining
that "the practice of the large land owners of
appropriating all the labour on their Estates for their
own ends, has for many years been generally looked upon as
both unfair and unjust."59 But encouraging African
cultivation only exacerbated the problem and further
antagonized the planters.

The state was notably unsympathetic to unofficial
complaints about labor. After years of seeing workers drift
away to more lucrative jobs in South Africa and Zimbabwe,
the administration had apparently decided that indigenous
cultivation was the best way of stemming continued labor
emigration. McCall pointed out that commodity production
should stop Africans in Mlanje "from wanting to seek work
outside the Protectorate."6° He also pointed out that
northern inhabitants would also learn that there were
”means of earning money without leaving their homes."61
Even more remarkable was McCall's observation that "our
large native population must eventually be the largest
producer of most of our crops."62

Nor were the!government’s activities confined to
cotton: the state also aimed at encouraging indigenous
production of the protectorate's newest promising crop,
tobacco. McCall reported that "the sun cured tobacco
industry was being taken up by natives with most promising

results."63 Although the leading tobacco companies were

176

(cautious about indigenous production, at least "one native
in Zomba district produced a ton of sun-cured tobacco which
‘was purchased at prices slightly higher than the average
obtained for European grown tobacco.'6‘ Manning, who
complained that labor emigration has been "no doubt to the
great benefit of Southern Rhodesia, but scarcely so to
Nyasaland," decided to offer a tax rebate for African
tobacco producers.65 The state had clearly decided that the
planters were unable to provide the country with
enterprises which could keep the African population at
home. In a sense, one can discern that the state had run
out of patience with the unofficial community and had left
that group to its own devices in order to solve its labor
problems.

Labor was not the only problem pressing the planters.
The virtual absence of any decent roads also hurt them.
Even Manning complained in 1911 that "the benefits which
that line [railroad] is capable of conferring on the
agricultural community are largely neutralized by the
absence of any system of roads."66 McCall also complained
that the ”imperfect transit in Nyasaland is hampering the
progress of the cotton industry,'67 but the state, consumed
with its own agenda, did little to solve the problem.

Not only was the Public Works Department virtually
useless, but many administrators resisted the most logical
solution to the problem, the development of motor

transport. Sharpe had already stopped one motor transport

177

scheme from developing in the country in 1910.68 Two years
later, McCall informed some investors that ”with regard to
the question of motor transport, I do not think, having
regard to the possibility of railway extension, that such a
scheme would be practical.'69 Like the labor issue, the
state appeared to be indifferent to the settlers’
transportation problems.

This kind of indifference was bound to increase the
already strong animus between state and colonists. The
planters were not immediately vociferous because of the
territory's growing prosperity. For instance, exports had
gone up over 50% since 1910.79 As tobacco established
itself as a commercial crop, the unofficial community
benefited from new markets in the United Kingdom and cash
advances offered by the Standard Bank of South Africa.

The settlers continued to suffer from the crippling
problem of disunity. Planters' Associations sprang up in
several districts, and the refusal of some to cooperate
with Chamber of Commerce wage schedules showed that they
were determined to pursue independent courses.71 Moreover,
the very need to form local organizations indicates that
many in the unofficial community felt that they lacked a
political organization which would look after their
interests. As long as prosperity diverted the settlers'
attention, their disarray was scarcely important. But
once an issue raised the planters' consciousness of their

betrayal by the state, the disunity of the expatriate

178

community came to haunt them.

One issue which could unify the settlers was land, and
by 1912 the administration finally began sorting out the
protectorate's land policies. As with other policies from
this period, the state acted against planter interests.
Late in 1911, Zomba proposed a land tax of 1/2d per acre on
all private land.72 Since most of this kind of territory
was in European hands, this bill put an increased burden on
expatriate planters. At the same time, the governor began
limiting new settlers by refusing to grant freehold tenure,
instead deciding on long leases. Manning conceded that
"European settlement...is a necessity to [Malawi's]
cemnercial development and to its present prosperity."73
But he also recognized that Africans needed land too, and
he consequently sought to limit expatriate holdings.

Land was a thorny problem though, and in April 1913
Acting Governor Pearce suggested that the state establish
four kinds of areas: Native Reserves, Crown Land Reserves,
European allotments and miscellaneous territory.74 The
governor proposed that the Native Reserves be established on
any land on which Africans were presently residing. The
reserves would not be in remote areas but rather in areas
not already alienated. After providing some additional
territory for indigenous expansion, the governor proposed
that the remaining unalienated land be made Crown Lands
Reserve. This territory might be leased, but not sold to

Europeans since Malawi was not "a really colonizable

179

country" and most planters were after quick profits.75 The
European allotments would consist of the already alienated
land, and the miscellaneous would consist of rural and
urban areas for markets and other uses.

It is worth mentioning that Pearce's plan depended on
the retention of tenants on estates. The acting governor
was convinced that the 1904 law, despite its virtual non
implementation, would provide for the absorption of
numerous Africans and thus reduce the need for future
reserves. He was certain that such an idea was workable
because it was in the interest of European planters ”to
treat their native tenants fairly and liberally."76 Of
course, if the Europeans did not do so, his plan had
serious problems, and Africans would suffer as population
increases drove them onto estates and into the hands of
hard-hearted planters. But the state, at least for now,
refused to consider such a proposal.

Pearce also pointed out that land policies needed
greater definition because of changes in the state itself.
When the administrators were old hands who knew local
conditions, rigid policies were not essential. But as new
officers appeared, the state needed to establish guidelines
which anyone could follow.77 In other words, the ad hoc
practices of the conquest state, dependent upon the
personality and knowledge of individual administrators,
should now give way to the bureaucratic regimen of the

reform state.

180

This need became obvious when Pearce was replaced by a
governor entirely new to the country, Sir George Smith. His
tenure lasted through some of the most important events in
the country's colonial history, and he instituted some of
the most sweeping reforms until the days of federation.
Yet, virtually no information about him exists in secondary
sources.78

The one thing we do know is that Smith found an
extraordinary memorandum on his desk when he reached
Zomba.79 Left by Pearce, this document was to be the new
governor's introduction to the country. It noted that the
European population was "only a small portion of our
population-infinitesimal as compared with the native
population-the rightful owners of the soil.“ Pearce also
added that the Chamber of Commerce "really in no way
expresses or represents public opinion.” He also complained
about the newspaper, noting that its editor was "a clever
but extremely hostile person.” Mast of the rest of the
memo dealt with DANO and its importance.

The remarkable characteristics of this memorandum are
obvious. There was no discussion of economic affairs. ITC
and BCGA receive no mention, and the cavalier dismissal of
the European community shows that the state, or at least
the governor, felt that Zomba was virtually autonomous in
its decisions. Ironically, the lengthy discussion of DANO
further indicates that the only pressures Pearce had felt

came from the indigenous rather than the expatriate

181

community.

Moreover, the memo's glib assumptions about the
economy were deceiving because the prosperity of the
decades first three years was now being replaced by
hardship. It would be easy to infer that since exports
finally exceeded imports in 1913 Malawi had a solid economy
at this time.80 But like much else in the country's
history, such a perception is at least partially deceiving.
The evidence clearly demonstrates that a series of problems
were still plaguing the economy.

The most important of these were droughts in the
southern region. As a result, commodity production,
especially on cotton estates around Chiromo, decreased.81
Moreover, officials reported that "food is increasingly
difficult...to buy," making it harder for planters to
obtain the labor they needed.82 The Secretary of
Agriculture pointed out this problem by commenting that
European cotton production was down at least partially
because of a "scarcity of food for native labor."83

African commodity production naturally exacerbated
this problem. The increasing tendency of Africans to grow
only enough to feed themselves and then plant cash crops
like cotton or tobacco sharply reduced foodstuff
production. This trend began to change as food prices
soared in 1913, but the increased costs put European
planters at a distinct disadvantage since their production

costs rose with the price of bread for their workers.84

182

The settlers also faced serious problems from outside
during this period. Large multinationals which had pumped
so much capital into the economy finally began to exert
their influence in the country as the planters struggled to
maintain their production. Imperial Tobacco's actions were
especially dangerous. European tobacco production had not
been so seriously affected by the colony's problems as had
cotton. But Imperial had been steadily squeezing growers by
offering less than market prices for their produce. As
early as 1911, ITC's low prices had forced a number of
local planters to ship their own tobacco to foreign
markets.85 At first, this circumvention of the huge
company had worked well, and McCall's staff noted that only
I.M. Conforzi had failed to get his crop to England in good
shape.

But as more planters found themselves in economic
trouble, their quality contol deteriorated. E.W. Davey, a
government agriculturist, complained that the ”so called
economy of many planters' in bailing and shipping was
hurting prices for Malawian tobaccos in foreign markets.86
Davey pointed out that "many planters...expect to make
great profits by putting up the cheapest possible factory,
by buying the cheapest press on the market, and by
utilising that hessian [burlap] forpacking which costs
least per yard.“ The agriculturist also contrasted these
practices with the ITC, ”whose method of packing leaves
nothing to be desired." The upshot of all this that

183

tobaccco farmers hurt themselves and strengthened
Imperial's position as the settlers' false economies cut
their own profits and lowered the price for their products
at home.

The BCGA also began to act against the expatriates'
interests in this period. The company continued to make
generous advances to planters and businesses through 1912,
but by 1913 it was clear that it wanted a change in the
medus.xiyendi-87 The company's decision was easily
explicable: planters had often taken advances and then
failed to produce the agreed amount of cotton, leaving the
Association with enormous losses. As a result, the
company's officers bluntly stated that continued problems
with European agriculture made it clear ”that one might
rather have to rely on natives for any considerable
increase in the production of cotton."88

The company began to complain about the way in which
indigenous cotton was marketed. Its liason with Malawi
complained that it was ”a mistake to fix the price” so
high. He then added that "I feel a great deal of anxiety
about Nyasaland, and I am afraid we are going to drop a
good deal of money there."89 A few months later, he came to
the real point:

I want you to clearly understand that you must not set

us in competition with Keymer 8 Company. If you are

going to do this we can be best guarded by our being
able to have the control over it, and there is no
doubt that the man who owns the ginnery has the

greatest control, and it is not quite fair to put us
in competition with people who have not got to provide

184

the seed free of charge, as we have to do, and have

not got to incur other expensesgxhich ordinary

commercial firms are free from.
The days of BCGA's largesse were clearly over. From now on,
the company wanted exclusive control of the indigenous crop
in return for its assistance.

Such control would naturally be hard on the unofficial
community. Several firms made most of their money by buying
(African cotton, so giving a monopoly to BCGA would simply
bankrupt them. Moreover, planters like Hynde supplemented
their own production by obtaining commodities from
neighboring crown land.91 Under the BCGA's proposal, they
‘would not be able to do so. If the company withdrew, the
cotton market would surely be far more volatile, less
stable and probably smaller. Ultimately, the association
settled for a continued grant in aid of 110,000 per annum,
but even this stipend showed that the state was vulnerable
to the cartel's pressure.

Nor were agricultural companies Zomba's only cross to
bear: the railroad also caused the state considerable
problems. That company had finally opened for business,
and despite Cynthia Crosby's assurances, it was clearly a
rickety operation at best.92 It had the advantage, however,
of having legal claim to land the government could ill
afford to alienate. Using this claim as a weapon, the
railroad obtained a favorable set of government guarantees
for construction to the coast in 1913. Manning claimed that

this contract was "universally welcomed by the European

185

community,” but it is hard to believe that an expatriate
population whose "capital is not plentiful” could be happy
about the kind of financial guarantees involved.93

There were limits to the state's ability to disregard
settler sensibilities, as the progress on land policy after
Smith's ascension amply demonstrates. Pearce's ambitions in
regard to land had come to naught, and the new governor
still faced the question of what to do. Krisnamurthy claims
that Smith favored the planters, but the evidence suggests
that his advocacy was more a result of unofficial pressures
than personal preference.94

After an extensive study, Smith initially concluded
that there was probably more than enough land for the
country's African population.95 He also worried that
restrictions on European settlement would stifle the
economy. But the new head of government did not immediately
act upon these beliefs. Instead, he recommended that a land
commission be appointed to study the problem in detail.
Only after it reported would legislation appear. Such
caution suggests uncertainty, not unrestrained support.

Smith's next actions also indicate that he was no mere
tool of the planters. As he studied the land issue, he
concluded that good relations between tenants and landlords
were essential for any future settlement. But unlike
Pearce, Smith was not entirely convinced that the 1904
ordinance was effective or that the situation was

satisfactory. Indeed, five months after he sent his

186

preliminary land propositions to London, he telegrammed a
request that the Colonial Office grant him permission to
require "compulsory written contracts between employers and
natives settled on their estates."96 He stressed that all
the district officers supported this move, and his
correspondence suggests that he had learned about the poor
state of labor relations at the annual meeting of officials
in the capital.97

The proposed legislation hit the unofficial community
like a thunderclap. None of the growers supported it at
all. Small planters feared that the bill would give "large
landowners power to monopolize the labor" on their estates
and seemed "to consider neither the interests of the
natives nor those of the planters but only those of the
large landowners."98 The large landowners, on the other
hand, felt that the bill would effectively abolish rhangara
"with the result that the owner of the land on which the
natives were settled got no return."99 Facing such
overwhelming hostility, Smith rather hastily withdrew the
bill, leaving the question open and his reputation as a
champion of the planters up in the air.100

Smith's precipitous retreat may have also reflected
the problems planters were facing by 1914. Their inability
to unite on important issues or to resolve their labor
difficulties had left many settlers in dire straits by
' 1914. In January, two planters complained bitterly that

tobacco farmers faced imminent ruin if the administration

187

did not do something to help their plight.101 Big firms
also suffered. In July, Blantyre 8 East Africa, one of the
country's three biggest concerns, voluntarily reduced its
capital because of losses sustained in the preceding few
years.102

In these circumstances, changing time honored labor
relations was too radical for many of the planters. Indeed,
simply suggesting legislation of this nature increased the.
suspicions of an expatriate community already disgruntled
by a lack of government support. It seemed to reinforce the
growing view that settlers' concerns were of little
importance to the government and helped widen the already
broad chasm between the state and European society.

The beginning of the First World War temporarily eased
the antagonism between state and settlers. The unofficial
community rallied around the flag and supported the
government in its first military sorties against the
Germans. They even volunteered to fight the Hun and
suffered casualties in the war's first battles.103
There was some discontent about speculative activities with
supplies, but by and large, the war's beginning did not
greatly disturb the territory's fragile equilibrium.104

But eventually the war was tremendously destabilizing,
and the state’s control over its subjects eroded as it
became clear that the conflict was going to drag on for a

long time.105 In particular, new demands on the indigenous

community, especially for military carriers, ignited

188

emotions within the African community. The best example of
this resentment was the broadside which John Chilembwe
published in the Hyaealahe T1nee.1°5 The letter complained
that Africans had suffered too long in support of a state
which did little enough for them and urged that Africa be
given back to its own people. In many respects, this
missive was little different from material which Joseph
Booth had disseminated in the late 1890s.107 Indeed,
Chilembwe's relationship with Booth and other breakaway
church members clearly influenced his attack.

But Booth and his compatriots faced a far different
situation in the late 1890s than Chilembwe did in 1915.
Whereas the earlier propagandists had confronted a conquest
state still fresh from campaigns in the field, Chilembwe
faced a bureaucratic administration uncertain of its own
aims and distracted by the military threat from the north.
More importantly, in the 1890s independent church ministers
had been preaching to people whose class position and
ideological identity was at best confused. Chilembwe, on
the other hand, was dealing with a situation in which
people's status and position in the colonial society had
become much clearer.

The administration had hoped to overcome these
problems with its native administration legislation. But
its failure gave Chilembwe and his fellow agriculturists an
opportunity to rally their brethren as they grew
increasingly restive about the barriers they faced in their

189

attempts to gain greater economic wealth. Credit
ordinances, labor rebate restrictions and marketing rules
all constricted these aspirant African capitalists. The
resentments created by these actions had been further
inflamed as growing racial tension forced men like
Chilembwe to adopt subservient attitudes towards Europeans,
no matter what their station. For instance, every African
was expected to tip his hat to a European he passed whether
the white man acknowledged him or not, an onerous burden to
people who had adopted European customs and succeeded in
the colonial economy.108
Nor were Africans whose achievements were thwarted by
colonial bigotry the state’s only problem here. Chiradzulu
also contained a number of poorer Africans who were equally
dissatisfied. These people inhabited the A.L. Bruce estates
and suffered from the constant abuse of power and privilege
by Bruce's supervisors.109 Nor was Bruce the only culprit.
Other estate owners were pushing tenants off the land so
that they could extend their cultivated acreage, further
exacerbating tensions between black and white.110
Therefore, when Chilembwe wrote his letter, the state was
naturally concerned. The district resident, alerted by
Chilembwe's reputation, had already assured his superiors
that the preacher "is being watched,...but nothing was
noticed to cause suspicion there.'111 A month later, the

same resident reported that the police checked on Chilembwe
again "but everything seems to be quiet."112 Apparently

190

content with these reports, Zomba let the matter drop and
concentrated on more pressing business.

Their decision to do so is nothing short of
incredible. It is hard to imagine any wartime government
allowing seditious material to be published without any
action against the author. One might assume that it
indicated the administration was so blindly confident of
its authority that it was not worried about Chilembwe and
his followers, but it is more likely that the state was
simply so weak that it was unable to act unless it had a
clear provocation.113 In other words, unless Chilembwe was
prepared to do more than issue broadsides, the state was
unwilling to risk a confrontation.

How much political debility affected the course of
events in Chiradzulu is difficult to discern. But it
clearly demonstrated why the state wanted to establish
controls like traditional authorities. As events showed,
the district officers were unable to keep up on the
undercurrents in their districts. The state needed better
information in order to maintain its legitimacy.

That became clear because Chilembwe and a number of
followers finally revolted against colonial authority on
January 23 1915. The Chilembwe rebellion is a well known
tale in African history. It was the subject for one of the
first, and in many respects still one of the finest, books
in African studies.11‘ It also was the subject of George

Mwase's interesting memoir which provided what one

191

commentator has called the 'protohistoriography" of
colonialAfrica.115 Moreover, Chilembwe has become an
important part of contemporary Malawi's political identity
and is the subject of a biography in the "Malawians to
Remember" series.116

This historiographical density makes a detailed
narrative of the rebellion superfluous. In summary,
Chilembwe and a number of followers attacked the manager of
the A.L. Bruce estate on January 23. Simutaneously, an
abortive attempt was made to seize the Mandala depot in
Blantyre and the district hena in Ncheu. Only the main
attack on the Bruce estate succeeded, and after killing two
whites, Chilembwe took up defensive positions and awaited
the arrival of government troops. The fate of the rebellion
was sealed as neighboring Africans, particularly the
chiefs, refused to take sides.

Despite the literature's clear presentation of what
happened in Chiradzulu during these fateful days, why it
happened remains unclear.117 Shepperson and Price argue
that this rebellion was the step towards the establishment
of nationalism in Malawi. For them, Chilembwe represented
the new African who would no longer accept colonial rule
and indeed sought to "strike a blow and die.” They buttress
this argument by claiming that the chiefs represented an
old and subjugated Malawi which did not want to see the new
nationalism supplant it. Phiri followed the same line of

reasoning in his book, and this viewpoint has been

192

practically writ in stone in contemporary Malawi.

Questions remain about its verity though. Rotberg's
use of H.E. Peters' letters shows that Chilembwe was a man
deeply mired in debt and suffering from an impending sense
of failure.118 For such a person to go off the deep end and
martyr himself in a vain messianic rebellion may have been
explicable in other, albeit more mundane, terms. After all,
there are few better ways to avoid debt than through
gaining immortality as a messianic savior.

Nor should it be particularly surprising that large
numbers of recent Lomwe immigrants participated in the
abortive rebellion. Many of them had found life on the
estates upon which they settled hard. Moreover, many Lomwe
were on the lowest rung in the colony's emerging socio-
economic hierarchy.119 Indeed, the district administrators
for the area frankly admitted that "the fact that some
hundreds of this tribe were implicated need occasion no
surprise."120

What was surprising, though, was the participation of
the district's numerous African planters. Prosperous
farmers like Duncan Njilima and John Grey actively followed
Chilembwe despite their considerable success in colonial
society. The government even conceded that "it is
surprising that several well-educated and prosperous
Natives were found among his [Chilembwe's] followers.'121
The reason for their involvement becomes even more obscure

when one considers that virtually no other group (other

193

than the Lomwe of course) provided active assistance to the
rebels, in essence leaving one with the question of why the
territory's most successful African subjects would rebel
when most others would not.

The usual explanation for this apparent anomaly is
that the rebels represented the new Africa which
colonialism was forging. Other Africans, especially chiefs,
are viewed as collaborators whose interests lay with the
continuation of colonial rule, not its abolishment.122 But
considering the confused state of traditional authority and
the virtual disintegration of indigenous society, such a
hypothesis does not seem tenable. After all, the state
itself had found that the "old" order had already
disappeared when it tried to establish indirect rule: those
who chose not to revolt could hardly have been clinging to
something which did not exist.

A far more plausible explanation is possible though.
Rather than divide the indigenous community into
traditional and modern spheres, it would be more useful to
divide the Africans into sanctioned and non-sanctioned
communities. For several years the colonial administration
had not understood how to deal with the African planters.
There had been uncertainty about whether to allow them to
sign labor certificates and disquietude about how to deal
with their wearing European clothes. Moreover, the state
had struggled to find a middle ground which would help the

tenants, many of whom were Lomwe, without disturbing the

194

estates. The administration's inability to deal with these
groups allowed many Africans to drift into an uncertain
neeae yiyenei which frequently thwarted their true
ambitions and increased their unrest.

The chiefs and other potential leaders, on the other
hand, recognized their political potential in the emerging
colonial society. They had much to gain as the
administration tried to restore its authority and hegemony.
in the countryside, and they were clearly aware of it.123
As a result, their real problems with colonialism were
subordinated to the equally real possibilities opened by
the establishment of a more organized state. Consequently
they did not actively support Chilembwe because they had
more to gain from the state's reforms than from their
brethren's rebellions.

It was clear that despite these incentives the general
population's loyalty was very weak. The administrators
complained that "the behavior of the population on the
Sunday...was not suggestive of active loyalty to the
government, even if it did not amount to practical
coalition with Chilembwe."124 The clear message here was
that the state needed to become more involved in order to
inculcate greater loyalty to the crown. Others have shown
how the state's draconian reaction to the revolt,
reminiscent of the actions of the conquest state,
reestablished governmental authority. But as the evolution

of the conquest state demonstrated, the pace of reform

195

would have to be accelerated, and the state would have to

broaden its control of the indigenous population if that

authority were to last. Thus, despite his apparent failure,

John Chilembwe in a very real sense overthrew the

government and established a new political order in Malawi.

ENDNOTES

Vail, "The State...,” 52. It is worth pointing out that

Vail represents the view of most commentators by
claiming that there were "three quite distinct
sectors" in this economy: an enclave planting system
based on rhahgara: peasant production: and migrant
labor.

Many of Malawi's prominent planters established

themselves in the territory at this time, most notably
I.M. Conforzi and the Barron brothers.

Especially as estates like A.L. Bruce recovered after

Nunan's legitimization of the system. See White,
HBQQDQIQ. Ill-120-

The literature typically discusses the emergence of

tenant farming in the context of the central region,
see for instance, John McCracken, "Planters, Peasants
and the Colonial State: the Impact of the Native
Tobacco Board in the Central Province of Malawi,"
Jamaal ef Seuthern Afriean indies. 9. 2 (April
1983): McCracken, ”Share-Cropping in Malawi: the
Visiting Tenant System in the Central Province, c.
1920-1968." in am An Altematixe Eastern 91
peyeleemenr (Edinburgh, 1985). Some sources do point
out that tenant farming was emerging during this era,
though. For instance, Agnes Lonje states that "the bulk
of the tobacco exported between 1881 and 1930 was
grown by African tenants on private estates, Agnes
Makonda Lonje, ”African Responses to Cash-Crop
Production in Zomba District," History Seminar,
Chancellor College, March 12 1980, 7. For a more
detailed summary of the emergence of tenant farming,
see Tony Woods, "Malawi's Missing Peasantry: Planters
and Peasants in the Central Province, 1929-1940," 1990
African Studies Association, Baltimore, October 27-30
1990.

5. Unfortunately, little information exists about these

planters. It is worth mentioning that African

196

integration into the commodity market involves a
considerable debate in Malawian historiography
involving the origins of African production. One
school argues that production began with colonialism
while the most dominant today argues that African
adaptation to the world economy evolved from the pre-
colonial period. Probably the best summary of this
debate is in Martin Chanock, "Notes for an
Agricultural History of Malawi," Rural hfrieana, 20,
I (Spring, 1973). Until more can be determined about
the nature of African commodity producers, much of
this debate remains moot.

6. Violet Jhala, ”The Shire Highlands: The Establishment
and Maintenance of Yao Dominance under Changing Socio-
Economic Circumstances, 1861-1915,“ History Seminar,
Chancellor College, February 27 1980, 6-7.

7. Sharpe to c.o., July 17 1909, c.o. 525/29.
8- Nyeyeeland.Breteeterate1.£ixil.List (Zomba. 1923)- The

following officers assumed the governship on the dates
following their names during this period: Major Pearce
(acting) April 1910: H.E. Wallis (acting) July 1910:
W.H. Manning February 1911: Major Pearce (acting)
December 1912: and George Smith September 1913.

9. Wallis to C.O., July 9 1910, C.O. 525/32.
10. Wallis to C.O., September 24 1910, C.O. 525/33.

11. Minutes of the Legislative Council, November 5-8 1912,
c.o. 626/6.

12. M.N.A. S 1/937/29, "Tribal History and Native
Administration in Regard to the Upper Shire District,"
by Mr. J. O'Brien, [?] 1929.

13. M.N.A. NSB 7/3/1, "Mbnthly Report--Chiradzulu,' March
1911.

14. M.N.A. NSB 7/3/1, ”Monthly Report--Chiradzulu,' August
1911.

15. M.N.A. NSB 7/3/1, "Annual Report--Chiradzulu," 1911.

16. As I have pointed out in two different settings, see
'Planters...,': and "Capitaos and Chiefs: Oral
Tradition and Colonial Society in Malawi," The

International.leurnel.ef.Afrieen.flieterieal Studies.
23, 2 (1990).

17. Beeerd ef.£rineieel dhiefe.and.needmen.in.Nyaeeland

18.

19.
20.

21.

22.

23.

24.

25.

197

(Zomba, 1911). As far as I know, the only extant copy
of this work is located in the Society of Malawi
Library in Limbe, Malawi.

For instance, the state was still trying to appoint
chiefs and headmen in Zemha district in the mid-1920s!
See M.N.A., NZ 1/2/1, "Chiefs and Headmen,
Appointments, Zomba District."

Treasury to C.O. February 15 1913, C.O. 525/52.

M.N.A.

M.N.A.
1912.

M.N.A.
1913.

S 1/937/29, "Tribal History....”
NSB 7/3/1, "Monthly Report--Chiradzulu,' April

NSB 7/3/1, "Monthly Report--Chiradzulu,' March

Agnes Lonje points out that there were twenty four
African estate owners in Zomba between 1881 and 1930,
most of whom apparently took up major production
around 1910, Lonje, "African Responses...," 13-14.
Unfortunately, there is literally nothing about
African estate production in districts other than
Zomba and Chiradzulu.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/1, ”Native Landowners and Lessees in
Chiradzulu Subdistrict," [n.d.].

One of the most frustrating lacunas in Malawian
historiography is the virtual silence about the
origins of these planters. In Zomba, Lonje only
identified what six of the twenty four estate owners
did before they began farming. Some undoubtedly made
money from the ivory trade, but certainly not all. One
feature worth mentioning is that the Mtakas apparently
made considerable money smuggling ehikaen in from
Mozambique. But much work remains to be done on this
subject before we can fully understand their role in
Malawian history.

26. M.N.A. NSB 7/3/1, 'Native...,' and ”Monthly Report--
Chiradzulu," August 1912.

27. M.N.A. NSB 7/3/1, Irvine to Resident, Blantyre, June 9

1913.

28. Native Associations still remain underresearched, but
one fine study is J. van Velsen, "Some Early Pressure
Groups in Malawi," in E. Stokes and R. Brown, The
zamheelan Rae; (Manchester 1966), 376-411. Chanock
also discusses their impact in the the 1920s. See

29.

30.

31.

32.
33.
34.
35.
36.

37.

38.

39.

40.

41.

42.

43.

44.

45.

198

Martin Chanock, ”The New Man Revisted: An Essay on the
Development of Political Consciousness in Colonial
Malawi," in Roderick.J. Macdonald, ed., [rem nyaealahe

to Malari-

Especially since at least one commentator has argued
that "education did not remain a means to [sic]
accumulating wealth for long because by 1910, the
positions in government were saturated with Africans
who had [a] mission education." See Kamia Makuwila,
"African Entrepreneurship Around Blantyre District
from the 1890s to the 1950s,” History Seminar,
Chancellor College, April 21 1982.

The most recent study of separatism during this period
is Karen E. Fields, Beylyalrrr. ‘

Minutes of the Legislative Council, November 5-8 1912,
c.o. 626/6.

Manning to C.O., February 17 1912, C.O. 525/41.
Manning to C.O., January 13 1912, C.O. 525/41.
Manning to C.O., August 31 1912, C.O. 525/43.
Pearce to C.O., June 10 1910, C.O. 525/30.
Wallis to C.O., September 10 1910, C.O. 525/33.

M.N.A. A 2/1/4, Davey to J. Oswald, Chiole Mission,
Ncheu, September 19 1910.

M.N.A. A 2/2/1, McCall to B.C.G.A. December 3, 1910.
”Report on Operations of the British Cotton Growers
Association," by J. McCall, enclosed in Manning to
c.o., c.o. 525/36.

M.N.A. A 1/1/2, Ryall to McCall, November 29 1910.
Pearce to C.O., July 5 1913, C.O. 525/48.

M.N.A. A 1/1/3, Gamlen (1st Assistant Agriculturist) to
Director of Agriculture, May 25 1912.

M.N.A. A 1/1/4, African Lakes Company to Director of
Agriculture, November 7 1913.

M.N.A. A 1/1/4, Perceival to Director of Agriculture,
November 18 1913.

M.N.A. A 1/1/4, Chief Secretary to Perceival, January 3

46.

47.

48.

49.

50.
51.

52.

53.

54.

55.

56.

57.

58.

59.

60.

61.

62.

199

1913.

M.N.A. A 1/1/3, Wheeler (Government Secretary) to
Director of Agriculture, December 17 1912: British
Cotton Growers Association to Governor, December 3
1912.

M.N.A. A 1/1/4, Resident, Ncheu to Director of
Agriculture, March 22 1913.

M.N.A. A 1/1/4, A. Kidney (African Lakes Company) to
Director of Agriculture, April 4 1913.

M.N.A. A 1/1/4, Resident, Neno to Director of
Agriculture, June 24 1913.

Manning to C.O., December 16 1911, C.O. 525/38.
Manning to C.O., November 4 1911, C.O. 525/38.

M.N.A. A 2/1/6, McCall to R. Tyson Hodgson, Corby Hall,
Norton-on-Tess, England, December 21 1912. One of the
problems here undoubtedly involved tenant and peasant
producers who were interested in selling their produce
to touters who sought produce in the countryside.

Manning to C.O., October 7 1911, C.O. 525/38.

M.N.A. A 2/1/7, McCall to Deputy Governor, September 26
1912. '

Manning to C.O., September 23 1911, C.O. 525/38.

M.N.A. A 2/1/4, McCall to Imperial Tobacco Company,
October 1910.

Manning to C.O., March 23 1911, C.O. 525/36.

Manning to C.O., July 29 1911, C.O. 525/37.

Nyasaland Times. July 6 1911.

M.N.A. A 1/3/1, "Mlanje District Report,” November
1910.

M.N.A. A 1/3/1, ”North Nyasa Report,” November 1910.

M.N.A. A 2/1/6, n.p. 3080 ”Observations Regarding
Native Agricultural Development," [n.d.]. This
document apparently was writen during the late spring
or early summer of 1912, less than a few months after
Manning had pointed out that "European settlement...is
a necessity to its commercial development and to its

63.

64.

65.
66.

67.

68.
69.
70.
71.
72.
73.
74.
75.
76.
77.

78.

79.

80.

81.

82.

200
permanent prosperity," Manning to C.O., March 16 1912,
c.o. 525/ 41.

Memo by McCall, August 15 1911, enclosed in Manning to
C.O., September 16 1911, C.O. 525/38.

M.N.A. A 1/1/2, Imperial Tobacco Company to Director of
Agriculture, June 17 1911: A 1/1/3, William Edward to
Director of Agriculture, February 29 1912: A 2/1/5,
"Memorandum Pointing Out Reasons for Appointment of
Tobacco Expert to Staff of the Department of
Agriculture," August 15 1911.

Legco Extraordinary Session, July 24 1911, C.O. 626/6.

Manning to C.O., June 17 1911, C.O. 525/37.

M.N.A. A 2/1/5, McCall to British Cotton Growers
Association, June 15 1911.

Sharpe to c.o., February 5 1910, c.o. 525/32.

M.N.A. A 2/1/7, McCall to R. Tyson, December 21 1912.
Crosby, ”Railway Development...,' 141.

Tony Woods, "The Myth...,' 367.

Gardner to C.O., February 28 1912, C.O. 525/46.
Manning to C.O., March 16 1912, C.O. 525/41.

Pearce to C.O., April 19 1913, C.O. 525/48.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

For instance, he is not listed in Cynthia Crosby's
historical dictionary. See Crosby, filererleal

Dietienarx.ef.uelesi,(Hetuehen. 1980)-

M.N.A., GOA 5/3/1, "Note on Nyasaland," by Acting
Governor Major Pearce, August 1913.

Crosby, "Railway Development...,' 141.

M.N.A. A.l/1/4, Duncan Lipanje, Cotton Qaelrae Chiromo
to Director of Agriculture, March 1 1913.

M.N.A. A 1/1/3, Quarterly Report, June 30 1912.

83.

84.

85.

86.

87.

89.
90.

91.

92.
93.

94.
95.
96.
97.

98.

99.

201

M.N.A. A 2/1/8, McCall to British Cotton Growers
Association, March 26 1913.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/1, "Annual Report--Chiradzulu,”
1912/1913: "Monthly Report...," July 1913: ”Monthly
Report...,” September 1913.

M.N.A. A 2/1/5, "Report on Tobacco," [n.d.].

M.N.A. A 1/1/4, "Baling of Tobacco, Seed Selection, etc
(C.O. Despatch no. 336 of 14 October, 1913)," by E.W.
Davey.

The generous advances had been noted over the years of.
course. For instance see M.N.A. A 1/1/3, British
Cotton Growers Association "Report on British Cotton
Growers Association Port Herald for Year 1911,"
February 6 1912.

M.N.A. A 1/1/4, Hutton to Director of Agriculture, May
6 1913.

M.N.A. A 1/2/1, Hutton taxman, March 4 1913.
M.N.A. A 1/2/1, Hutton to McCall May 6 1913.

M.N.A. A 2/1/4, McCall to Imperial Tobacco Company,
October 10 1910.

C.A. Crosby, "Railway Development...,” 141.

Manning to C.O., July 27 1912, C.O. 525/42, quoted in
Crosby, 'Railway...,' 138.

Krishnamurthy, "Economic Policy...,” 390.

Smith to C.O., December 6 1913, C.O. 525/51.
Smith to C.O., January 17 1914, C.O. 525/55.
Smith to C.O., January 17 1914, C.O. 525/55.

”Letter from a 'Small Planter'," nyaealane_Tlnee, May
14 1914.

The comments quoted were made by A.L. Bruce, a large
estate owner, see Legco, 13th Session, March 10-12
1914, C.O. 626/6.

100. Smith to C.O., April 26 1914, C.O. 525/56.

101. Letters from H.H. Kemper and ”Interested," xyaealahe

102.

103.

104.
105.

106.

107.

108.

109.

110.

111.

112.

113.

114.

115.

202

Tlmee, January 15 1914.

Register General's Office, Blantyre, Coy 4, Blantyre
and East Africa, ”Memorandum and Articles of
Association."

For instance, Geoff Thorneycroft lost a leg at
Karonga, interview, Robin Thorneycroft, Chimpeni
Estate, Zomba, July 22 1985.

Nyasaland Times. August 13 1914.
Page, ”Malawians...," 35.

"The Voice of African Natives in the Present War," by
John Chilembwe Nyayealane,Tlnee, November 26 1914,

quoted in Shepperson & Price. Indenendent.Afriean.
234-236.

M.N.A. J 2/9/2, Joseph Booth file. For more on Booth,
see Shepperson 8 Price, lndeeeheehr,hrrlean, 18-121.

A pattern which continued throughout the 1920s, as
Robert Rotberg's discussion of the solar topee
incident in 1929. See Rotberg, The glee er Harlenallem

in.central.AfrieainThe.Makinsxefxnelaui.and.Zambiai
1e12;12§1 (Cambridge, 1965), 120-121.

Woods, 'Planters...,' 213.

For instance, see M.N.A. NSB 7/3/2, Millthorp to
Moggridge, October 7 1914.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/2, "Monthly Report--Chiradzulu,"
October 1914.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/2, "Monthly Report--Chiradzulu,"
November 1914.

Indeed, the weakness of the administration was
demonstrated by the numerous officials who were
resident there between 1911 and 1914. Moreover, when
Mr. Irvine replaced Mr. Moggridge, it is worth noting
that officers listed in official roles were different
from people who actually sent in the reports,
indicating just how chaotic the country's
administration really was. See M.N.A. H.M. AD 1/2/3/1:
NSB 7/3/1 and NSB 7/3/2.

Shepperson and Price. Indenendent.Afriean.

Robert Rotbere. ed-. Sirihe.a.Blex.and.niei.A
Narratixe.ei.8aee.Relations.in.£elenial.Afriea by

116.

117.

118.

119.

120.
121.

122.

123.

124.

203

Eggrgg Einegn Hugs; (Cambridge, 1970); G. Shepperson,
”The Place of John Chilembwe in Malawi

Historiography," in Pachai, ed., The EarlyLL;, 406.

D-D- Phiri. Malawians.te.Bemember1.John chilembxe
(Lilongwe,, 1976).

White points out that ”the rising itself can be viewed
from different angles-as nationalism versus
colonialism, as Christianity versus Islam, as a petit
bourgeois struggle with feudalism, as a peasant
uprising against oppression...as a personal feud
between Chilembwe and W.J. Livingstone." White,

HBQQEEIQ: 127-

Robert Rotberg, "Psychological Stress and the Question
of Identity: Chilembwe's Revolt Reconsidered," in
Robert Rotberg and Ali Mazrui, eds., Protest and
Power in Black Africa (New York, 1970). See also
M.N.A. S 10/1/8/3, Chilembwe to Peters, March 9 1914;
Chilembwe to Peters, March 26 1914.

Boeder, silent Majority. Of course, one must heed the
cautionary warning I gaVe in the last chapter about

the Lomwe.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/2, ”Annual Report, Chiradzulu, 1914-1915."
Ibid.

Interview, Stephen Saidi Kapile, Nachirika village,
T.A. Chikowi, Zomba, July 1 1985.

Landeg White, ”'Tribes' and the Aftermath of the
Chilembwe Rising,” axziggn_bfifig1:§ 83, 333 (October
1984), 511-512.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/2, "Annual Report, Chiradzulu, 1914-
1915.”

Chapter 6
War and Reform, 1915-1922

The Chilembwe Rebellion was a watershed in Malawian
history. In its aftermath, the state turned against
expatriates more and more as it strove to build a colonial
society in which its authority would reign supreme.1 But
Johnston's legacy to the country was a difficult one to
live down, and the reforms needed to reestablish
unquestioned control were difficult to implement. As a
result, reform continued to move slowly. Whereas previous
attempts at revising the territory's political economy had
been unsure and incomplete, there was now a clear goal.
Malawi would increasingly become a colony for Africans and
not a white man's paradise.

In many respects, this decision was forced on the
state as a result of the war.2 The conflict caused enormous
hardships for many Africans and further eroded the state's
authority. Zomba dragooned thousands of indigenes to serve
as carriers for the military. Simultaneously, African
participation undermined the myth of white supremacy as
Africans fought and killed whites. As these troops returned
home, the dislocations of the war caused disease and famine
throughout the country. In this setting, it was clear that
the state had to do more to mollify the indigenous
population than it had before.

But Zomba found that changing the country's political

economy was a difficult task. The state continued to find

204

205

it difficult to organize its own administration, especially
as the military drained the territory of European manpower.
After the Armistice, the post war inflation stimulated
enormous discontent among the country's civil servants,
further reducing the government's ability to administer the
transformation efficiently.

Economic problems also inhibited the state's ability
to change the country too much. The war drastically
diminished the territory's exports, and even large
corporations lost thousands of pounds.3 The post-war
depression further undermined the country’s prosperity, and
by the early 1920s the economy was in dire straits. Thus,
Zomba found it difficult to find the revenue needed for
necessary reforms.

The post-war recession further alienated the state's
subjects, both European and African. The expatriate
community, resentful of Zomba's policy shift, found the
administration's continued refusal to assist the
beleaguered estate economy unacceptable, and by the early
1920s planters' associations threatened open rebellion.
Africans, equally upset about the poor economy, took more
direct measures and engaged in criminal activities which
necessitated the establishment of a police department.

The activities of the country's large companies
further complicated the situation. Some, most notably the
British Central Africa Company, tried to offset their

losses by selling land to ex-servicemen. The resulting

206

influx of expatriates made it more difficult for the state
to thwart settler ambitions in favor of peasant production.

Even more ominous were the activities of both the
British Cotton Growers Association and Imperial Tobacco.
The cotton consumers finally grew weary of the country's
unstable markets and forced the state to give it major
concessions in return for continuing business. Imperial,
also tired of the country's erratic gtgtgg 939, sought to
protect its investments by expanding tenant production. The
result of these activities was an expansion of non-
capitalist production designed to serve metropolitan
interests rather than local primitive accumulation.

The net effect of these problems was chaos, and by
1923 the local situation was desperate. The
administration's new determination to "Africanize" Malawi
failed because the country's structural deficiencies, many
of which were the result of maladministration, were too
severe for an underfinanced state to resolve. Ironically,
the post-Chilembwe state failed not because of a lack of
direction, but because of an inability to enforce its will.

Smith approached the immediate aftermath of the
Chilembwe crisis with his usual caution. The governor
admitted that he would ”not attempt, until the
investigations are finally concluded, to deal with this
rising in its general bearing on the Government of the

Protectorate."4 After indicating that he would not pass any

207

legislation until he fully understood what had gone wrong,
Smith established a commission of inquiry.

Zomba did not have the luxury of reviewing the
evidence before acting, though. Even as the dust settled in
Chiradzulu, Hector Duff pointed out that administrators
could no longer "pooh-pooh indigenous complaints."5 As
government investigators discovered that "One of the causes
of native disaffection has been the unsatisfactory position
of natives on estates owned or occupied by Europeans,” the
state directed its administrators to prevent the abuse of
tenants by estate owners.6

Time honored relations on numerous estates
consequently changed. No longer would district officers
turn a blind eye towards serious abuses. For instance, the
Chiradzulu Resident claimed that he was closely supervising
tenant agreements because "Mr. Sabbatini’s tenants cause me
some uneasiness, and complaints from one side or the other
are unduly numerous."7

The rebellion unsettled other social relations as
well, especially the already strained links between the
state and the unofficial community. The revolt had elicited
enormous criticism from the expatriate population and
destroyed the raprochement created by the beginning of the
First World war. The Nyasaland Tings not only savaged the
Commission of Enquiry, but it also took advantage of the
opportunity to pour calumny on what it clearly felt was

inefficient administration. For instance, in April the

208

paper's editor proclaimed that "the European community have
been shamefully neglected in the past six years and more of
the Agricultural Department's history...everything seems to
have been directed to the Native Cotton Industry to the
exclusion of other interests."8

This kind of fulmination pointed out that the
expatriates were as upset about the government's neglect of
their economic interests as by its apparent inability to
govern the African community. New grievances appeared, too,
especially about the government’s refusal to become
involved with the railway. The war had forced freight
prices up precipitously, and many planters found it
difficult to raise the money to ship their crops overseas.9
Indeed, Imperial Tobacco simply stopped buying tobacco for
a while because of uncertainty about freight charges,
instead buying its leaf in American markets to which
Central European consumers had no access.10 The net result
was that many expatriates found themselves in an
increasingly vulnerable economic position yet again because
of the state's failure to regulate transportation.

The administration was sensitive to the enmity with
the settlers. By the summer of 1915, Governor Smith
pleaded that he could "only appeal to the better thinking
whites in Nyasaland to consider the effect, both on the
natives and on the situation...of a recriminatory polemic
at public meetings or in the public press."11 Unofficial
leaders grudgingly conceded this point, and even the

209

newspaper admitted that "planters will have to face the
situation in the best way they can...it is part of the
sacrifices we are called upon to make in this herculean
struggle."12 The expatriates made it equally clear that
Ithey eventually expected some reward for their sacrifices.

The conflict ensured that any concessions would be far
off. The insatiable demands for military carriers placed
an ever increasing burden on the administration. The
indigenous community had already heard "unfavourable
rumours...of the experience of carriers in the fighting
around Karonga' by the beginning of 1916.13 As the war
progressed, conditions deterioriated for the tgngn:tgng§
force, and fewer and fewer Africans were willing to
participate in the campaigns.14 But the redoubtable
district officers still had to obtain more carriers as the
campaign ground on, and their recruitment tactics soon
caused dissension which consumed much administrative
energy.15

Ironically, this demand provided the means by which
the state could implement indirect rule. Oral informants
still remember that the state rewarded those who had
obtained workers for either public works projects or tgnga;
tgngn with chieftaincies.16 Indeed, the state's reliance on
chiefs for recruitment provided an enormous opportunity to
those who wished to seize it.17 Certainly many authorities
were willing to do so. In 1916, the district officer in

Chiradzulu was astonished to find that his local chiefs

210

provided him with more than enough carriers after he had
complained that he could not possibly take any more
manpower away from his district.18

While the emergence of these cadres remains
underresearched, their appearance raises interesting
questions about the evolution of indigenous society. Not
the least intriguing question is who the new chiefs
recruited and how they did so. Since Page has persuasively
demonstrated that the indigenous population feared tgnga;
tgngg work as the war were on, it is unlikely that the new
paramounts enticed the recruits. Instead, it would appear
that they took an opportunity to rid communities of
malcontents and dissidents who might challenge either their
authority or the legitimacy of their administrative
patrons.19

Purging rural areas of these individuals would
forestall any seditious activity at a time when the
administration was finding local control even more
difficult. Military campaigns absorbed Europeans as well as
Africans, and the administration felt the pinch. Although
it found officers to administer districts, it eventually
became apparent that the available candidates were often
problematic. For instance, in 1918 one district resident
complained that "I take this opportunity of again bringing
before your notice officially the fact that the state of my
health is not good...[and] I cannot welcome at this stage
taking over the responsibilities of an important

211

subdistrict."20 But the state had no choice, and the
officer in question took over the subdistrict.
Nevertheless, even Zomba ultimately had to dispatch
investigators to examine irregularities caused by what
could charitably be called poor administration.21 In these
conditions, it was essential to establish order in the
districts in any manner possible.22

The war's impact on the indigenous community made it
imperative for Zomba to control the countryside. As
the military's labor demands outstripped supply,
administrators undertook Draconian measures reminiscent of
the slave raids.23 These measures caused some increase in
activity among independent churches and a revival of
traditionalism designed to organize Africans against the
colonial state.24 The appearance of such phenomena had, of
course, partially catalysed Zomba's decision to establish
indirect rule before the war, and there is little doubt
that the state welcomed a chance to promote collaborators
as the war stimulated new militantism, both religious and
traditional.

Recruitment was not the only disruptive result of the
war. Page points out that "much of what troubled the askari
and the tenga tenga, as they were away at war, was shared by
those at home.'25 Food consumption skyrocketed as the army
struggled to feed itself, and famine stalked the country
because "of food requisitions, labor limitations, and

agricultural implement shortages."26 Disease also swept

212

through the colony as the war disrupted indigenous
society.27 The net effect was that many Africans found
themselves impoverished by the war's end.

The war had other, more subtle effects. Many workers,
especially in transport industries, received fairly
substantial bonuses.28 And the bounty continued throughout
the struggle. By the spring of 1918, the Blantyre Resident
concluded that "at the present time...there is a large
floating population employed on military service in various
parts of the Protectorate earning high wages."29 The
relative prosperity of these workers created resentment
among returning soldiers, and a district officer noted with
dismay that their African police "have not unnaturally
expressed surprise that after long and distinguished
military careers they should now be receiving less than
half the emolument enjoyed by raw Angnzu” volunteering for
government work.30

Other facts suggest that there was at least some
prosperity in the African community. In 1918, the
Chiradzulu Resident reported that "there are now 21 stores
on Crown land alone...[and] inspite of difficulties of
importing material they appear to keep up their stocks."31
Court records also indicate that economic activity in the
rural areas was picking up. For instance, in 1916, an
individual lent an African 27/19/0 "to build a store and
trade."32 For people who legally could not borrow or lend

more than one pound, such transactions were extraordinary.

213

Indeed, despite the hardships endured by many Africans,
there is no question that the war provided many indigenous
inhabitants with great opportunities.33

This prosperity was a two edged sword for the state.
It undoubtedly thwarted some dissent by tying people more
closely to the colonial economy. But it also created unrest
by fragmenting traditional society even more. Individuals
now lived in a context other than their village, and many
probably had improved their situation by taking advantage
of opportunities presented by the war. As these new men
gained greater wealth, their affluence probably caused
resentment among Africans who had formerly dominated them
in traditional society, thus accentuating the problems
caused by the difference between local and military

wages.34

The state was keenly aware of the trouble brewing in
the villages, and it obtained a reform program after the
Commission of Inquiry released its final report in 1916. The
commissioners argued that better district administration,
closer supervision of the indigenous community and the
abolition of hut tax rebates were all needed. But the most
important conclusion was that the previous optimism about
planter-tenant relations was misplaced. The commissioners
specifically recommended "the abolition of work in lieu of
rent, except at the option of the tenant.'35

This gave Smith all the impetus he needed for a

revival of the postponed native tenants ordinance. As the

214

ink dried on the report, Smith proposed "for consideration
of members of the executive council a rough draft of a
bill" about estate tenants. In essence, it stated that
tenants would now have the option of paying an annual rent
fixed by the state and could not be compelled to perform
thangata labor. In order to ensure that tenants would not
suffer if they chose this new option, the bill also
included a clause prohibiting the eviction of tenants
unless they had a new home.36 Smith hoped that the new
ordinance would 'abolish[es] the principle of service in
lieu of rent and [ensures that] the native's position is
cleared up. By payment of a given sum by way of rent he
enjoys rights of residence which are defined and the
employment of his labour becomes a matter of contract.'37
The final passage of this bill was a devastating blow
to the planting community.38 Military requirements had
already cut into the country's slim labor supplies, and
planters had encouraged some Africans to seek refuge on
their estates.39 Changing tenant relations threatened to
reduce available manpower even more.‘0 Therefore, the new
law redrew the battle lines between official and unofficial
communities. After a meeting between a deputation of
planters and the Director of Agriculture, the local
newspaper complained that the Director ”seemed to be
holding the whip behind his back all the time...Planters
resented this tone and rightly so."1 By July, the same

paper argued that the situation was "eminently

215

unsatisfactory as regards the co-operation between the
Government, Military and the Public."42

This animus did not deter the government's willingness
to sacrifice planter interests for the benefit of the
indigenous community. The administration continued, for
example, to emancipate African tenants on estates despite
the settlers' protests. On January 11 1918, Smith reminded
his district officers that the new law ”disposes once and
for all of any doubts which may have previously existed of
a right of landlords to exact from natives resident on

'43 Six months

their estates any service in lieu of rent.
later, the governor exhorted his men "to prevent such
evasions of the law and report fully should such occur.” He
also reminded them that "the policy of the Government is
that every native should be free to offer his labour where
he pleases.'44
Zomba further threatened the estates' labor supplies
by encouraging (at least tacitly) indigenous commodity
production. By late 1917, the Director of Agriculture
reported that "never in the history of native cotton
growing has competition been so keen...the whole crop for
this year is guaranteed for purchase."45 Indeed, the
situation was so good that the Director of Agriculture
reported that one African obtained over 1100 for his
crop.46 These developments naturally pulled even more

workers from the beleaguered estates, and demonstrated that

Zomba's solicitude about indigenous affairs overrode any

216

expatriate concerns.

But like so many apparent successes, this situation
had a very dark side. Increasing cotton cultivation reduced
food production to dangerously low levels and exacerbated
the country's chronic wartime famine. The agricultural
department had defended its encouragement of cotton
cultivation by stressing that famine was unlikely because
the prices maize fetched would stimulate local food
production.47 But as more Africans continued to plant
cotton, the national food supply diminished until several
regions had virtually no available foodstuffs.48 Indeed,
the situation deteriorated so much that even the British
Cotton Growers association conceded that food cultivation
should be substituted for cotton production because of the
danger of famine.49

Ironically, beer brewing further compounded the food
question.50 As early as 1915, the administration had
recognized that beer drinking was becoming a problem and
had passed rules to regulate it.51 However, beer brewers
made such enormous profits that the fines imposed on
violators were scarcely a deterrent.52 As a result, the
state found that it constantly struggled to keep grain from
being converted into liquor.

Increasing indigenous cotton production complicated
an already serious food crisis and threatened to undermine
the complacency which prosperity engendered in the

indigenous community. So even as the state fostered African

217

interests, its policies eroded gains made in establishing
legitimacy and threatened further complications as a new
legacy of bitterness gradually grew.

The revival of the indigenous cotton industry also
created a critical rift between the state and the BCGA.
After it had decided not to sacrifice its product for food
production, the Manchester cartel stimulated production and
bailed out numerous planters by "advancing considerable
sums" for both future crops and goods in transit.53 As the
war continued, however, the situation changed. The
Association lost its imperial grant-in-aid in 1916 just as
the market began to improve.54 The consequent increase in
prices should have made up for this loss, but the keen
competition the Association faced cut into its profits.

The company complained that the state should do
something to help them in return for all their previous
assistance. Corporate officers rather darkly pointed out
that without "some slight assistance from the government,”
their bankers might start squeezing them.55 The Association
liaison also pointed out that "when the business is in a
very difficult position and there is a possibility of some
loss, everybody will stand on one side and leave the Cotton
Growing Association to 'nurse the baby' and then come in as
they have done recently when they think there is a chance
of a profit. This is all very unfair."56 Lest anyone
mistake the real message in these letters, the Association

added that "it would be a good thing if cotton growing was

218

made a sort of government monopoly and the buying placed in
the hands of somebody like the Association.'57

The state was having none of it though. The local
expatriate community was already unsettled enough by the
new tenant ordinance; the administration had no intention
of giving them even more ammunition in their crusade
against the state. McCall summed up the entire situation
quite neatly by pointing out that there was "no necessity
whatever for the suggested assistance which is of far more
importance to the B.C.G.A. than [for] the Agricultural
interests of Nyasaland.”58 In short, the state decided not
to accommodate the association's interests in order to
restore its battered relations with the unofficial
community. But in doing so, it earned a powerful new enemy.

Tragically, thwarting the BCGA's ambitions did little
to heal the growing rift between planter and administrator.
In many respects, the government's officers simply appeared
incapable of pursuing policies without seriously offending
their expatriate subjects. For instance, in October 1918,
the food committee requisitioned some 20 tons of maize from
a Chiradzulu planter.59 When the planter, who was rather
”hot tempered,” rather naturally objected to this seizure,
the district officer sent in a police force which
confiscated the maize and then insisted that the settler
shell it. The upshot was that the state received an
enormous quantity of unshelled maize and alienated a

settler who would eventually play an important role in the

219

colonial economy.

The end of the war did not relieve things very much.
The flu epidemic swept through Malawi in late 1918 and
disrupted food production yet again.60 Even more ominously,
the returning soldiers introduced more instability into the
poltical arena. One district resident complained that
returning soldiers showed a tendency "to interfere with and
sometimes assault the police when they go into the villages
on duty."61

To some extent, this problem was a reflection of the
military's war-time disdain for civil authority.62 For
example, at the end of hostilities, an army column marched
from a flu infected area into "an uninfected one...in which
food is very scarce."63 Although the district officer tried
to stop this movement, military commanders disregrded his
warnings and left the road 'strewed with dead and dying."
But one administrator glumly predicted that despite the
havoc wreaked the "military so-called will again get off
scot free."64 And so they did, revealing the impotence and
ineffectiveness of administration officers before an
already skeptical indigenous population.

Blaming the war alone for the erosion of political
authority is misleading. The new disregard for authority
was just one sign of how external influences were
accelerating the transformation of indigenous society. In
many respects, it complemented the problem created by the

return of Africans from the mines to the south. Like the

220

military personnel, these workers often exhibited
disrespect for colonial authority and white rule in
general.65 Colonists complained that returning workers
were "cheeky, idle [and] more independent."66 As these
people returned home, their attitudes caught on with
members of the indigenous community who had prospered
during the war and created even more instability as more
and more Africans asked the same questions as Chilembwe
had.67

The state tried to stem this trend not just by
establishing traditional authorities but also by reforming
racial relations as a chaste system. It outlawed
cohabitation and actively worked to expel children produced
by interracial relationships.68 In 1917, the Secretary of
Native Affairs asked a Catholic mission outside of Beira if
it would accept some "half-caste” children. The official
did not conceal that "it is desired that these children
should lose all touch with Nyasaland and this government
would be very much obliged if you would, as far as
possible, keep them out of touch with any Nyasaland natives
and when their education is completed endeavour to obtain
work for them in South Africa."69

The state also sought to exert coercive power, and in
1919 it decided to establish an "independent" police
force.70 Traditionally, police work had "been left almost
entirely to the district residents.'71 Even before the

war, these officers had recognized the inadequacy of a

221

decentralized system run by district officers and urged the
formation of an independent constabulary administered from
Zomba. So as it became increasingly clear that the
indigenous community was no longer "more docile and less
sophisticated" than before, the state acted.72

Coercion was not Zomba's only aim though, and the
administration simultaneously encouraged officers to
collect material on indigenous languages and culture. For
example, the acting chief secretary informed Meredith
Sanderson, an early ethnographer and medical officer, that
"the government will be glad to receive copies of any
future work you may carry out on similar subjects."73 In an
era when the state was hard pressed to fulfill its
obligations, encouraging officers to do anthropological
research was telling.

Events were conspiring against government policy
though. Hamstrung by London's postwar penury, the
administration had to abolish the Native Affairs Department
in order to save funds.74 As it became apparent that such
action contradicted the establishment of greater control
over the indigenous community, the administration sought to
reestablish this department.75 But London remained obdurate
and coolly responded that the formation of new departments
was impossible because of the difficulty it ”anticipate[d]
in obtaining Treasury approval."76 Nor was this the only
instance of poverty constraining the state: the Exchequer

also refused to allocate votes for the new police

222

department.77

Unrest by civil servants complicated the state's
financial problems. In June 1919 the newly formed Nyasaland
Civil Servants' Association complained bitterly about
working conditions in the territory.78 The governor
conceded that much of the "growing discontent" among civil
servants was entirely justified. But the state could do
little without more money, and the new assocation
continued to complain even after officials gained a small
pay increase.

In this setting, the administration needed to raise
revenue quickly, and it began to pass new tax
legislation.79 When it reformed the hut tax in 1920, the
administration abolished the labor rebate and imposed a
flat rate. The Chilembwe commission had already suggested
such an option and much evidence suggests that such a
policy might have been very popular.80 But that sentiment
had been based on the presumption that the rate would go
from 4/- to 5/- per annum. The government’s need for money
led it to increase the tax to 6/- per annum.81 The outcry
was immediate, especially from Africans living in the more
remote regions of the country where little industry
existed. But Zomba's own imperatives made it stay its
course.

Zomba's pursuit of its own agenda further upset the
settlers. The country's traditional labor shortages

worsened as post-war inflation drove wages to levels which

223

planters were unwilling to pay.82 In 1919, the Mlanje
Resident reported that "the planters are extremely short
of labour."83 A year later, the same officer claimed that
”the position with regard to labour is becoming
increasingly more difficult."84

In these conditions, taking away labor certificates
was tantamount to betrayal since Africans lost an important
material incentive to work. In essence, the revision in
tenant laws and the flat hut tax combined to make settlers
depend on enticements rather than implicit coercion to
maintain production. As the material expectations of the
indigenous community yi§;a:yi§ wages rose, the cost of
obtaining labor rose to precipitously high levels.85

The planters became even more upset as Zomba began
shifting more of the tax burden directly onto the planting
community. The most onerous new levy was an increase of
export duties, especially on tobacco.86 In 1919 the state
collected t2,336 in export duties; in 1920 that figure rose
to £47,796.87 The administration tried to justify these
heavy tolls by claiming that they would encourage the sale
of commodities to experienced shippers who would pack it
well, but the planters were hardly mollified.88

The state also instituted an income tax.89 To be sure,
the income tax was hardly an excessive burden. But its
implementation just as the state was increasing other

duties on the unofficial community was politically

insensitive. Indeed, relations between planters and the

224

state continued to deteriorate throughout this period. As
early as January 1919, the Nyasaland Times reported that
planters felt unwanted in what they considered their own
territory.90 By 1920 one planter complained that

Recent legislative efforts of Zomba are reminiscent of

the doings of the King of Portugal in the sixteenth

century to control the affairs of East Africa through
decrees sent to the Viceroy of Goa. Both are about as
much in touch with local affairs, and both cases may

be expected as fruitful of results. 91
Zomba's quest for revenue had clearly widened the already
broad schism between the official and unofficial
communities.

Land issues also caused considerable stress between
planters and the state. When the war ended, the Shire
Highlands could no longer accommodate the burgeoning
African population and an expanding capitalist class. As a
result, the state began to restrict land alienation in the
southern region of the country.

Such restrictions were serious since the war had
removed many people from their homes, and numerous
Europeans began seeking their fortune in Malawi.92 These
people naturally wanted to establish their businesses in
areas where there was adequate transportation and industry.
In Malawi, they sought land in the southern regions of the
country. But the state's actions effectively prevented them
from obtaining inexpensive estates there.93

Of course, the state could not restrict people from

buying or leasing land from other individuals and

225

corporations, and real estate transactions soared in the
immediate post-war period.94 But planting concerns were not
charitable institutions, and they extorted high prices from
the would-be settlers. By doing so, of course, they drained
away much of the capital which the new farmers needed to
start operations. Moreover, much of the land sold was
already exhausted by years of use.95 So the government's
land policies placed many new settlers in a tenuous
economic position even as they began operations.96

The decision to rely on private land sales also
affected tenants. Newly established estates often were
small parcels of large estates, but before the new owners
would take possession, the tenants had to be removed.97 As
a result, many Africans were evicted from their homes. For
instance, during the summer of 1920, the British Central
Africa Company removed some 3000 tenants from land it
planned to sell shortly.98 Things did-not improve over time
either. The Blantyre Resident complained in 1921 that “the
importance...of arranging for security of tenure for native
tenants is beyond measure."99 A year later, the resident in
Cholo pointed out that the "constant friction between some
of the European Estate owners and their tenants...is the
natural result of the rapid opening up by settlers of small
estates formerly comprised in estates of large area."100

The state clearly had a crisis on its hands, and in
its best tradition, it decided to deal with it by

appointing a land commission. The administration, however,

226

did not wait for that body's final conclusions before it
tried to ameliorate the problem in other ways such as by
trying to irrigate arid areas. The governor asked various
residents to comment on whether irrigation could open up
more territory.101 But this was a quixotic effort, and the
residents in Mlanje and Blantyre, the most populous
districts, frankly admitted that irrigation in remote areas
would not increase the amount of arable land.102

The state also urged planters to clean up the
"slovenly contracts of the past" and make agreements which
would give Africans some security.103 However, the wildly
fluctuating state of wages made both Europeans and Africans
leery of negotiating new pacts.For instance, Mlanje
tobacco planters at one point obtained such enormous
profits that they were willing to pay virtually any wage
for workers. Tea planters, on the other hand, could not
afford to keep up because their market was so depressed.104
Therefore, tea estate owners were unwilling to negotiate
new agreements since their tenants would naturally balk at
earning wages lower than they could obtain nearby. Tobacco
planters, on the other hand, could scarcely be expected to
negotiate new pacts which would inevitably increase their
labor costs.

Another problem with establishing tenant agreements
involved the type of labor needed for processing estate
crops. In several instances, planters lost valuable crops

because the ganitggs in charge of processing the produce,

227

105 Since

especially tobacco, were negligent or incompetent.
skilled laborers worked for the highest bidder, many
frequently left estates, leaving many planters with a
shortage of skilled labor.106 Filling up their estates with
unskilled proletarians did little to alleviate this
problem, and many planters refused tenants for fear that
they would not be able to entice the workers they
desperately needed.

The only real solution to the problem of
overpopulation was to increase the amount of crown land
available for the indigenous population. And just as the
crisis reached its worst moments, a new economic
development offered the state a way to obtain land in the
southern region at a minimal cost as C.A. Barron's began
operating in the country's Central Province. Barron's
actions had momentous consequences because they changed
many of the country's economic patterns and stimulated the
growth of Lilongwe.

Ironically, Barron’s move north was actually an
admission that economic contradictions made profitable
enterprise virtually impossible in the southern region.107
As the situation deteriorated in the Shire Highlands, he
asked for 5000 acres around Lilongwe. Smith, recognizing
that this request had enormous potential to alleviate the
problems of the ”very congested" southern area, informed
London that he was "anxious to do all in my power to

develop the resources of those parts of the Protectorate

228

which as yet remain untouched."108

But encouraging economic activity in the central
region did more than open up new regions; it also allowed
Smith to begin reducing land pressure by trading land in
the central region for land in the southern region. By
1922, other planters, most notably Tom Partridge, showed
their eagerness to share in the new bonanza by seeking to
exchange land in the south for land in the center.109 So
the move north allowed the state to begin obtaining land it
desperately needed in the south. But it would be a long
time before the administration could actually implement
this policy to the fullest.

The inadequacies of earlier administrations hampered
this process considerably. For example, the Lands Officer
warned the administration that Partridge's request was
a problem because of discrepancies in some of his original
deeds.110 In another case, the Lands Office found that an
estate sold as 835 acres and registered as 114 actually
occupied 721 acres.111 Such inexactitude naturally slowed
down the exhange of land and made life even more difficult
for the state.

Personnel problems also hindered the state's ability
to deal with land transfers adequately. The Land Office was
clearly understaffed and gazetted boundary descriptions
often suffered as a consequence.112 More ominously, there
was a serious dispute over policy between the Lands Officer
and the Director of Agriculture.113 The former felt that

229

Nyasaland was destined to be a white man's country while
the latter asserted that land should be reserved for
Africans.

This kind of dissension was not confined to the land
question either. The Director of Agriculture and the
Governor also quarrelled about the effects of a tax on
tobacco in 1920. The Agriculture Department insisted that
such a tax was ill conceived because of drought
conditions.114 But the Governor was determined to balance
the books and insisted that the tax be implemented.

These quarrels did not keep the administration from
pursuing its new found emphasis on African commodity
production. In 1919, the Director of Agriculture began
organizing a system to improve indigenous production.115
Although progress was slow, he still managed to begin
considerable work, most notably by offering agricultural
advice, at various outstations. Such emphasis on peasant
production naturally did little to endear the
administration to the unofficial community, especially
since the Director of Agriculture freely admitted that ”the
younger planters...should be given more assistance than is
possible at present."116

This kind of disregard for expatriate interests
emphasized that the tide had turned against making
Malawi a white man's paradise. Planters now had to struggle
against a state determined to assist an indigenous

population which had shown startling militancy. The whole

230

tenor of policy, despite the confusion in the
administration, was aimed at least to address many of the
problems which had sown the seeds of the Chilembwe
Rebellion. The settlers were now only a cash cow which
would pay for a transformation intended to eliminate them
from the scene.

The need to meet indigenous ambitions at the expense
of the planters became increasingly clear as indigenous
society recovered from the war. Fresh occupations emerged
as Africans invested money in new ventures.117 And those
classes prospered even more as the war created
unprecedented possibilities for indigenous
entrepreneurs.118 As these elites appeared, they became
increasingly articulate and organized, presenting a serious
threat to the state.

' African suffering also caused the state concern,
especially as the post-war economic slump generated new
resentment. Indigenous cotton producers became increasingly
suspicious as prices tumbled after the war.119 Famine and
disease antagonized less successful Africans, and the
increase in crime and traditional dance groups showed that
local communities were not fatalistically accepting the
status.sue-12°

Unfortunately, the recession dampened the state's new
found determination to make Malawi an African colony. In
1921, international commodity prices began falling, markets'

began closing and the price of cotton fell over fifty

231

percent from the previous year.121 More ominously, by the
autumn of 1921 the Director of Blantyre 8 East Africa
reported that there were no tobacco ”sales at a payable
price."122 As "many planters had exhausted their credit at
the banks," at least one expatriate claimed that the
beleaguered planting community immediately needed 1100,000,
and the local newspaper warned that the economy was "daily
becoming worse.'123
The inevitable outcome of this recession was not long
in coming. By 1922, a businessman with twenty five years
experience in the country complained that “I have never
known the financial condition to be so bad as it is
now.'124 The manager of the National Bank frankly stated
that "I am doubtful how far a loan to planters would be of
real assistance to the community."125 Nevertheless, the
state refused to concede that the economy would collapse
before they had recreated colonial society, and government
officials continued to insist that ”apart from the result
of the present famine among natives, I do not think it can
be said that the financial condition is worse than it was
before the war."126
The local community could not depend on platitudes though,
and as it became clear that little government assistance
was forthcoming, the expatriates grew restive. Heated
petitions emerged from several meetings of local Planters
Associations. In at least one case the assembly actually

approved a threat of rebellion before saner heads

232

prevailed.127 Clearly, the state's legitimacy, at least as
far as the expatriate community was concerned, virtually
evaporated.

The state's determination to thwart indigenous unrest
further complicated the situation as Zomba tried to
maintain indigenous cotton production by giving the BCGA a
monopoly in African cotton markets.128 The Association had
long coveted such an agreement, and now that the colony
needed capital desperately, it did not hestitate to insist
on obtaining it. Even though Zomba had conceded that "once
an industry is prosperous, a monopoly should not be given
but free markets opened,” the administration capitulated in
order to encourage indigenous cotton production.129 This
cotton concession was a damning admission that capitalism
had failed in Malawi, showing that primitive accumulation
must follow a new path.

This admission made transnational capital increasingly
important. Without the enormous resources of foreign
companies, Malawi's economy would simply collapse. But
as more transnational capital moved into the country, local
control of production and the state's ability to exert much
influence on economic activity decreased. In essence,
multinationals like ITC and BCGA increasingly became the
tail that wagged the dog. Even successful local planters,
like Conforzi, depended upon metropolitan partners. This
development was clearly hostile to the state's position,

though, since it gave economic leverage to groups who had

233

access to Zomba’s London masters and drained profits away
from the country.

More ominously, new economic crises loomed on the
horizon, but other problems distracted the administration
from the coming Armageddon. The state was still trying to
establish its own authority and find a way to solve its own
administrative crises. Economic policy, particularly as it
pertained to structural questions, was at best chimeric. By
the end of 1922, the state's aims had changed considerably,
especially over racial issues, and a new society was slowly
emerging. But its grip on the territory's political economy

remained as tenuous as ever.

ENDNOTES

1. Tony Woods, "Political Autonomy and Administrative
Policy in Nyasaland, 1915-1921," History Seminar,
Chancellor College, March 11 1985.

2. Page's dissertation demonstrates how the war transformed
Malawian society and forced a stronger administrative
awareness of indigenous problems, see Page,
”Malawians...'.

3. The most notable example being Imperial Tobacco, which
years later reported that it experimented with tenant
grown tobacco because of its losses during the war,
S.O.M., Rangeley Papers, R 4/1/6, "A Brief History of
the Land Acquisitions of the Imperial Tobacco
Company."

4. M.N.A. GOA 2/4/15, Smith to C.O., July 19 1915.

5. M.N.A. GOA 2/4/14, Hector Duff to Sir George Smith,
January 16 1915.

6. M.N.A. s 1/172I/19, A.M.D. Turnbull to Chief Secretary,
February 16, 1915.

7. M.N.A. NSB 7/3/2, Monthly Report, Chiradzulu, June 1915.

234

8- W Times. April 1915.
9. M.R.A., Stratton (NCAC) to Acting Chief Secretary,

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.

17.

18.

19.

20.
21.

22.

Novemeber 10 1914: Nyasaland Times. July 22 1915.

M.R.A., Acting Chief Manager to Director of
Agriculture, July 15 1915.

M.N.A. GOA 2/4/14, Smith to Chief Judge, Blantyre, June
1915.

mung Times. October 26 1916.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/2, Wade to Chief Secretary, January 26
1916.

Page, "Malawians," 42.

Administration officers eventually adopted tactics
reminiscent of press gangs. See Page, "Malawians," 68-
72.

Interview, Dunken Mtengule, Gelemu village, T.A.
Chikowi, Zomba, July 19 1985: interview, Stephen Saidi
Kapile, Machirika village, July 11 1985.

Interview, Whiskey Harry Milonde, Milonde village, July
2 1985; interview, Maliro, Panje village, July 4 1985.
It is worth pointing out that at least some chiefs
suffered from popular indignation. Page points out
that "in at least one case a headman's house was
burned in protest," Page, ”Malawians," 55.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/2, Wade to Chief Secretary, January 28
1916.

Once again, this hypothesis needs more work before it
can be substantiated. Page hints that in some villages
marginal members were sacrificed to the military.
Indeed, Page points out that "protesters were forced,
by the very chiefs and headmen they opposed, to leave
their villages, often finding themselves sent to war
precisely because of their protests,” Page,
"Malawians," 55.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/3, Monthly Report, Chiradzulu, May 1918.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/3, Wallace Ross to Wade, August 1 1918.

Especially as the continued unpopularity of recruitment
eroded the influence of the new paramounts, making it

imperative to remove those individuals who might lead
such dissension, Page, "Malawians," 72.

23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.

29.

30.

31.

32.

33.

34.

35.

36.
37.

38.

39.

40.

235

Page, "Malawians," 73-77.

Page, "Malawians," 76-78.

Page, ”Malawians,“ 156.

Page, "Malawians," 170-173, 178.

Page, ”Malawians," 183-190.

M.R.A., General Manager's Circular, September 24, 1917.

M.N.A. S 1/1332/19, Resident, Blantyre to Chief
Secretary, May 13 1915.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/3, Monthly Report, Chiradzulu, May 1917.
A year later, the same resident claimed that in his
district "wages are high." M.N.A. NSB 7/3/3, Mbnthly
Report, July 1918.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/3, Annual Report, Chiradzulu, 1917-18.

M.N.A. BA 1/2/2, Blantyre Court Record, Paulo vs. Tom,
November 17 1917. ‘ ,

Once again bringing up the issue of differentiation
within the indigenous community.

Giving, for instance, lower status individuals and
groups like the Lomwe unprecedented chances to
prosper. In this context, it is worth noting that the
Chiradzulu Resident cited in note 30 specifically
mentioned that the discharged troops resented "Angnzn'
workers earning high wages.

M.N.A. GOA 2/4/15, "Report of the Commission,"
Supplement to the Nyggglgng figzgttg, January 31 1916.

M.N.A. s 1/1721/19, Memorandum by Smith, April 9 1916.
M.N.A. s 1/17211/19, Smith to c.o., December 31 1917.

Especially because both settlers and administration
officials had protested its passage, see M.N.A. S
1/172 /19, Memorandum by Attorney General, [n.d.]: and

, November 30 1916; cutting enclosed in
M.N.A. 5 1/172 /19.

Page, ”Malawians," 67.

M.N.A. S 1/1721/19, Hynde to Governor Smith, January 25
1917.

236

41- Exasaland.1imes. May 31 1917-

42- Nyasaland Times. July 5 1917-

43. M.N.A. s 1/17211/19, Governor's Circular, No. 1, 1918,
January 11 1918.

44. M.N.A. s 1/17211/19, Governor’s Circular, No. 6, 1918,
August 18 1918.

45. M.N.A. A 1/2/1, "Notes on Cotton," by Director of
Agriculture, October 27 1917.

46. M.N.A. A 3/2/67, Memorandum by MeCall, December 27
1917.

47. M.N.A. A 3/2/67, Memorandum on the Agricultural
Development of Nyasaland by McCall, March 9 1917.

48. M.N.A. NSB 7/3/4, Monthly Report, Chiradzulu, November
1919: Menthly Report, Chiradzulu, December 1919;
Annual Report, 1919-1920; S 1/1040/19, Monthly Report
Mlanje, December 1919: S 1/334/19, Director of
Agriculture to Director of Public Works, February 28
1919.

49. M.N.A. A 1/2/1, Hutton to C.O. May 14 1917. The
prescience of these sentiments were demonstrated
during the next season when district officers had to
buy foodstuffs in order to feed their subjects, see
for example M.N.A. NSB 7/3/3, Monthly Report,
Chiradzulu, January 1918.

50. M.N.A. NSB 7/3/3, Monthly Report, Chiradzulu, December
1917. This issue once again demonstrates the question
of differentiation since it apparently does not make
sense for Malawians to brew beer while they are
starving, unless of course some are making money
brewing and do not really care about the others
starving. In essence, if the African community was a
monolithic entity as so much of the literature
suggests, beer brewing would be illogical. Its
presence suggests that it was not as unified as later
commentators would wish to make it.

51. M.N.A. S 1/1332/19, Chief Secretary to Resident,
Blantyre, August 16, 1915.

52. M.N.A. NSB 7/3/3, Menthly Report, Chiradzulu, July
1916.

53. M.N.A. S 1/83/19, Eleventh Annual Report, British
Cotton Growers Association, December 31 1915.

54.

55.
56.
57.

58.

59.

60.

61.

62.

63.

64.

65.

66.

67.

68.

237

M.N.A. 3 1/83/19 Hutton to Governor Smith, February 22
1916.

M.N.A. A 1/2/1, Hutton to C.O., May 14 1917.
M.N.A. A 1/2/1, Hutton to Governor Smith, May 14 1917.
M.N.A. A 1/2/1, Hutton to McCall, May 14 1917.

M.N.A. A 1/2/1, "Notes on Cotton,” by the Director of
Agriculture, October 27 1917.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/3, Wade to Ross, October 24 1918. The
planter in question was Mr. Sabbatini, who become very
important during the 1920s.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/3, Monthly Report, Chiradzulu, January
1919.

M.N.A. NSB 7/3/3, Annual Report, Chiradzulu, 1918-1919.

One of the interesting questions which remain
unresolved by this thesis is the demarcation between
military and civil authorities during the war. For
instance, it is interesting to wonder how many of the
abuses Page discusses were actually a consequence of
gskatis' overenthusiasm rather than administrators'
desires. In this context, it is worth remembering that
the administration had experienced problems with
military units on other occasions. See for instance
Sean MOrrow, ”'War Came From the Boma': Military and
Police Disturbances in Blantyre, 1902' History
Seminar, Chancellor College, April 29 1986.

M.N.A. 8 2/5/19, F.J. Storrs (Resident, Karonga) to
Acting Governor Hector Duff, January 1 1919.

M.N.A. 8 2/5/19, Storrs to Resident, Chiromo, January
11 1919.

Page, “Malawians," 237.

M.N.A. COM 6/2/1, Chilembwe Commission Inquiry, Oral
Evidence of J.J. Ferriera, D.R.C.M. Mkonia, June 21
1915.

M.N.A. s 1/937/29, Tribal History...,' by O'Brien.

Until the war; cohabitation was fairly frequent,
although colonial administrators refused to marry
Africans and Europeans. For instance, R.H. Hynde, the
Nyggglgng Iings' fiery editor, was never mentioned in
his family because of his cohabitation with an African

238

mistress, Interview, A.F. Stark, Lauderdale Estate,
Mlanje, February 28 1986. Nor was he an exception,
Myambo mentions numerous planters who had illegitimate
offspring with indigenous women. See Myambo, "The
Shire...,' 73. Zomba was never happy about these
relationships and beginning in 1909 issued edicts
condemning it. See M.N.A. 3 2/62/19. The rise of
prostitution during the war may have given impetus to
the state's renewed efforts during this period,
although the world's oldest profession remains as
underresearched as other areas of Malawian
historiography.

69. M.N.A. NS 1/35/3, Secretary of Native Affairs to Father

Superior, Roman Catholic Mission, Beira September 3
1917.

70. M.N.A. S 1/152/19, wm. Wheeler (Acting Chief Secretary)

to Judge of the High Court, Blantyre, February 4 1919.

71. M.N.A. S 1/152/19, Minute by Smith June 18 1919. Until

72.

73.

74.

75.

76.

77.

1920, police had been assigned to district homes and
been directed by the harried and overworked residents.
What the state sought now was a professional
centralized force run by a trained inspector. For more
on Malawi's colonial police, see John McCracken,
”Coercion and Control in Nyasaland: Aspects of the
History of a Colonial Police Force," Jgntnal gt
A1:iggn_fiistgty, 27, 1 (1986). Ironically, McCracken's
article demonstrates that even the professionalized
police force which emerged committed abuses which
undermined the government's legitimacy.

M.N.A. s 1/152/19, Minutes of Residents' Conference,

Zomba, December 8 and 9 1913.

M.N.A. S 1/368/20, Acting Chief Secretary to Meredith

Sanderson [n.d.]. This letter was in response to
Sanderson to Chief Secretary, April 4 1920.

M.N.A. S 1/752/19, Acting Governor Duff to Milner,

November 18 1918.

M.N.A. S 1/752/19, Interim Report of the Jackson

Committee on Land Occupation, October 25 1920:
Governor to C.O., February 21 1921.

M.N.A. S 1/752/19, London to Governor, April 22 1921.

Although the crime wave mentioned below ultimately

allowed Zomba to convince Whitehall of the wisdom of
establishing this force, and by 1922 it was in place,
albeit in a weakened manner, McCracken, "Coercion

78.

79.

80.

81.

82.

83.

84.

85.

86.

87.

239

and Control...,” 128-129.

M.N.A. S 1/1347/19, Secretary, Nyasaland Civil Servants
Association to Acting Chief Secretary, June 19 1919:
Smith to C.O., June 23 1919.

M.N.A. S 1/1365/19, Smith to C.O., August 18 1919.

M.N.A. S 1/1365/19, extract from 'Report...". Although
it was clear that it would hurt planters since it
would remove an important incentive for Africans to
work on estates. Zomba expressed its attitude when
officers pointed out that "the principle underlaying
the system of reduction for work done was the
encouragement of industries in their infancy, and it
was not then desired to continue the scheme after an
industry was sufficiently well established," Rhodes
House Library, Mss. Afr s. 938, ”History of the Hut
Tax.”

M.N.A. S 1/1365/19, Resident, Ncheu to Chief Secretary,
March 17 1920. Zomba used the inflation which was
besetting the country as its excuse for making this
increase even though it conceded that the new levy
contributed to the upward price spiral.

Woods, "Malawi's Missing Peasantry," 3. For more on the
post-war inflation, see Martin Chanock, "The political
economy of independent agriculture in colonial Malawi:
The Great War to the Great Depression,” Lflglagil
leurnel ef Seeial Seienee. 1 (1972). 122: and Page.

"Malawians," 224-226.

M.N.A. S 1/1040/19, Monthly Report, Mlanje, June 1919.
Page argues that a contributing factor to the labor
shortage was a feeling within the indigenous community
that they did not want to serve Europeans anymore
after the war, Page, "Malawians," 231.

M.N.A. S 1/1040/19, Annual Report, Mlanje 1919-20.

Indeed, the situation got so bad that the Nyasaland
Ting; claimed that estate laborers had become ”the
knights of the Industrial world in Nyasaland,"

Nxasaland.Times. August 27 1919.

M.N.A. A 3/2/278, Minute by Sir George Smith, February
26 1920.

M.N.A. COM 2/9, Bell Commission, "A Historical Note on
the System of Taxation...'.

M.N.A. S 1/104/21, Chief Secretary to Secretary,

240

N.C.A.C., November 11 1920: A 3/2/278, ”Memorandum on
the Tobacco Tax," by the Director of Agriculture,
February 28 1920. Packing tobacco for shipment to the
United Kingdom was a tricky business, and many
planters lost money because their bales had been
packed incorrectly. Indeed, the one advantage of
selling to a big combine like Imperial, Conforzi or
A.J. Storey was their expertise in preparing the
tobacco for shipment home. One reason why Zomba would
be interested in ensuring that consignments arrived in
Britain in good shape was that poor shipments often
dropped the price of local leaf for months afterwards.

89. M.N.A. COM 2/9, Bell Commission, "A Historical
note. 0 O”.

90- Nyasaland Times. January 9 1919-

91. Nyasaland Times, February 19 1920,. Incredibly the
paper's editor claimed that he had actually toned down
this letter from L.S. Norman.

92. M.N.A. LAN 1/8/14, Lands Officer to Acting Chief
Secretary, May 3 1920. Myambo describes the British
Central Africa Company's transactions in detail,
although he points out that the company did not
recruit as many ex-officers as it wanted, obtaining
only 40 rather than the 60 they desired, Myambo, "The
Shire...,' 67.

93. M.N.A. S 1/403/20, Smith to c.o., June 21 1920.

94. A detailed description of land transactions remains to
be done in Malawi, but even a preliminary assessment
of the records in the Land Office shows that the real
estate business was booming after the war.

95. M.N.A. COM 7/2/2/1, Memorandum Prepared by the
Agricutural Department.

96. Indeed, government policy was so harsh that at least
one settler bitterly complained that ”all you could
get from Government was a D.B.S. passage,” the D.B.S.
referring to the hated Distressed British Subject, see
J.E.R. Emtage, 'Reminiscences," figgigty g: flalggi
Jeurnal. 37 (1934). 13-

97. M.N.A. S 1/835/20, British Central Africa Company to
Resident, Blantyre, July 27 1920, enclosed in
Resident, Blantyre to Acting Chief Secretary, July 27
1920.

98. M.N.A. S 1/835/20, Resident, Blantyre to Chief

241

Secretary, August 23 1920.

99. M.N.A. S 1/835/20, Resident, Blantyre to Chief

100.

101.

102.

103.

104.

105.

106.

107.

108.

109.

110.

111.

112.

113.

Secretary, March 13 1921.
M.N.A. NSE 5/1/1, Annual Report, Cholo 1922-23.

M.N.A. 8 1/95/21, Chief Secretary to Residents, Fort
Johnston, Ncheu, Neno, Blantyre and Mlanje, March 24
1921.

M.N.A. 8 1/95/21, Resident, Mlanje to Chief Secretary,
April 1 1921: Resident, Blantyre to Chief Secretary,
April 9 1921.

M.N.A. S 1/1110/22, Annual Report, Southern Province,
1921-22.

M.N.A. S 1/1040/19, Monthly Report, Mlanje, July 1919.

M.N.A. BE 1/3/1, Cholo Sub-District Court Records, #70
Rex (J.C.R. Richardson) vs Wilson 5 Joseph, April 10
1922: #85 Rex (W.J. Pillans) vs Jalesi, May 15 1922.

M.N.A. S 1/509/20, Monthly Report, Mlanje, November
1920.

Especially since every time an enterprising planter
marked off land which he wanted to buy or lease,
competitors swooped in and bought or leased it
instead. See S.O.M., Rangeley Papers, R 1/3/6, ”Early
Days in the Tobacco Industry of Nyasaland," by
Marjorie Widdas.

M.N.A. S 1/1042/20, C.A. Barron (for Imperial Tobacco
Company) to Chief Secretary, October 28 1920.

M.N.A. S 1/2103/21, Partridge to Lands Office, January
9 1920.

M.N.A. S 1/2103/21, Lands Officer to Chief Secretary,
January 16 1922.

M.N.A. S 1/1025/21, Lands Officer to Chief Secretary,
August 4 1921.

M.N.A. LAN 1/13/26B Acting Chief Secretary to Lands
Officer, August 30 1920; Lands Officer to Acting Chief
Secretary, September 17 1920.

M.N.A. LAN 1/8/14, Lands Officer to Acting Chief
Secretary, May 3 1920.

114.

115.

116.

117.

118.

119.

120.

121.

122.

123.

124.

242

M.N.A. A 3/2/278, Memorandum on Tobacco Tax by
Director of Agriculture, February 28 1920: Memo by
Smith (in Response to British Central Africa Company
to c.o., March 26 1920) [n.d.].

M.N.A. A 3/2/57, Agriculturist to Acting Director of
Agriculture, February 2 1919.

M.N.A. A 3/2/276, Director of Agriculture to Chief
Secretary, April 26 1924.

One of the more interesting occupations was that of
the khgngg tailor which court records in Blantyre and
Chiradzulu indicate was a booming trade by the early
1920s. Beer brewing and gnixgfiu manufacturing also
appeared to be growing professions in the war's
aftermath. Once again, we await more work on these
occupations being done by the country’s historians.

Like the lake-side fishers who sold their produce to
soldiers in 1914-1915 and expanded their operations
during the war's latter stages. See John McCracken,
"Fishing and the Colonial Economy: the Case of

Malawi." leurnal.ef.African.fiister2. 28. 3 (1987).
420.

Chanock points out that many Africans felt cheated by
fluctuating cotton prices after the war, Chanock, "The
political economy," 116. For more on price changes,
see note 121 below.

Crime was a serious problem after the war, and

one of the reasons for the establishment of the police
force. Years later, a former police official pointed
out that ”by the end of 1920, the country was in the
grip of a wave of crime , particularly theft and
burglary." He added that after the Chilembwe
Rebellion, Zomba realized that district officers had
too many police responsibilities and tried to ease
their burden by establishing a police force.

Falling from 26.32 in 1919-20 to 12.93 in 1920-21,
M.N.A. A 3/2/80, Cotton Prices, 1915/16-1925/26.

M.N.A. A 3/2/258, Tait Bowie (for Blantyre & East
Africa) to Director of Agriculture, November 21 1921.

M.N.A. A 3/2/35, Summary of Views Expressed/ Planters

Meeting at Blantyre, April 21 1921; Nygsgland Times.
February 28 1921.

M.N.A. COM 1/1, 1922 Finance Commission, Oral Evidence
of David McCash, Stores Superintendent of the African

125.

126.

127.

243

Lakes Company.

M.N.A. COM 1/1, 1922 Finance Commission, Oral Evidence
of H.S. Mackintosh, Manager of the National Bank.

M.N.A. COM 1/1, 1922 Finance Commission, Oral Evidence
of E.F. Colville, Commissioner of the Southern
Province. Of course, it is worth remembering that the
pre-war period was an era of hardship, so Colville may
not have been prevaricating, but he was certainly
misleading the commissioners.

In October 1921, the newly formed Cholo Planters
Association noted that they were "prepared to refuse
to pay income tax on their 1920 incomes." Shortly
thereafter, the Chamber of Commerce noted that "we
have no confidence" in the Legislative Council, M.N.A.
NY 3/2/3, Minutes of the Nyasaland Chamber of
Agriculture and Commerce, October 18 1921 and October
27 1921. The Cholo position was just a forewarning of
the militancy that district’s planters would show
throughout the 1920s.

128. M.N.A. S 1/1702/21, Governor to C.O., May 15 1922;

129.

C.O. to Governor, November 15 1922.

M.N.A. s 1/1702/21, Director of Agriculture to Chief
Secretary, March 8 1923; Extract from Conference,
October 7 1925.

Chapter Seven
Zomba's Last Chance:
State and Capital in the 1920s, 1922-1929

The 1920s presented Zomba with a golden opportunity.
British colonialism reached an apogee as the Empire's
subjects developed closer ties with the home isles. Better
links in turn led to a greater metropolitan awareness of
the colonies' needs and ambitions.1 These developments gave
colonial administrations like Malawi's a chance to
stimulate primitive accumulation which would not occur
again until after the Great Depression and the Second World
War.

Zomba faced a number of daunting obstacles before it
could take advantage of this climate though. The post-war
recession left a lingering legacy which weakened the
economy. Moreover, the state's inability to fulfill its own
imperatives continued to distract the administration from
economic policy.

The administration continued to thwart primitive
accumulation in a number of important ways. Its agreement
with the British Cotton Growers Association kept many
Malawians impoverished and hindered the expansion of
capitalism. The state also failed to direct the expansion
of tobacco production in a positive way, further hurting
the economy.

For a brief period, it appeared that the country's
resilient producers would overcome the administration's

policies. Tobacco boomed in the mid-1920s and created

244

245

enormous new opportunities for both expatriate and
indigenous subjects. The Depression's effects arrived
early, though, and tobacco's promise failed when that
commodity's prices tumbled in 1927.

The collapse of the tobacco market ended all hope for
an economic miracle. The state belatedly tried to help the
estate sectors and retain the decade's meager gains.
However, its efforts were typically disjointed and failed
to stop the collapse.

The state also failed to resolve its own problems.
Although reform sought to expand Zomba's tenuous authority,
its grip on the indigenous population continued to slip
throughout the 1920s. Not not only did primitive
accumulation form new classes, but many Africans found
increasingly articulate ways to voice grievances made more
acute by material frustration.

Thus, the 19203, despite their enormous promise,
ultimately became just another lost decade for Malawi. The
structural flaws generated by maladministration had
crippled the economy and hindered primitive accumulation.
The net effect was that the country became an impoverished

imperial slum.

Zomba's primary responsibility was to resolve the
internal problems still bedevilling the administration. For
instance, in 1923, the Nyasaland Civil Servants

Association, stung by a lack of support among its brethren,

246

adopted a new militancy.2 Nor were they alone; in May a
"Humble Petition from Native Civil Servants” complained
bitterly about the need for better working conditions.3 The
state was aware that many of these petitions merited
consideration, but its slender resources kept it from
acting upon them.4

The result was continued inefficiency. Tom Partridge,
one of the country's leading planters, eventually
complained that "we are not getting as good men as we ought
to get-there is not inducement. We lose our young men
simply because the salaries are higher elsewhere."5
Ironically, Partridge suggested that Zomba could save the
revenue needed for higher salaries "by utilising the
African native to a greater extent that [sic] we do at
present."6 The administration, however, had no intention of
hiring more Africans and low salaries eroded the state's
ability to implement reforms.

Zomba was not completely insensitive to its officers'
complaints though, and it tried to ameliorate some of the
complaints by establishing provincial administration. This
reform sought "closer inspection and control of District
Residents and [their] better coordination, more
particularly in native affairs.'7 In theory, the
administration would achieve these goals by appointing
provincial commissioners who could supervise their district

residents more closely than the colony's secretariat

could.8

247

But like so many of Zomba's plans, this one had
numerous problems. The first was determining the provincial
boundaries. By 1925, it was apparent that the Southern
Province was simply too large and diverse for one
provincial commissioner, and a new province was established
in Zomba itself. Moreover, while the system facilitated the
closer supervision of district officers, it did little to
relieve their work load.9

More importantly, the provincial system did not
prevent Zomba from passing laws which worked against
efficient district administration. For instance, in 1928,
the Cholo Resident complained about the Chief
Veterinarian's decision to ban meat imports from
Mozambique.10 Such an action threatened to reduce the
district's already slender food reserves and antagonize the
district's restless population.11 Thus, while provincial
reform looked promising, it became increasingly unclear
whether the system would actually benefit the country.

The after shocks of the post-war depression also
complicated the administration's tasks, especially in the
Southern Province. By the end of 1923, the Shire Highlands
Railway stopped accepting checks from planters without a
letter of reference from the bank from which their funds
were being drawn.12 Since many settlers had to pay for the
shipment of their produce to metropolitan markets, this
prohibition effectively ensured that many could not sell

their crops. The General Manager of the railway defended

248

this action by pointing out that "I might mention that the
public in general owe us many hundreds of pounds which we
cannot recover, all due to returned cheques."13 And smaller
concerns were not the only people affected: by 1924, the
British Central Africa Company, beset by losses incurred
after the war, finally gave up and declared itself
bankrupt.14

The economic crisis forced many concerns to seek
capital by selling land. For instance, the British Central
Africa Company virtually mortgaged all its property in late
1922, and it sold the rest to prospective Cholo planters
throughout 1923.15 These sales soon increased the number of
indigenous evictions since many of these estates were
smaller than the older holdings.16 New owners began
throwing large numbers of Africans off land in order to
increase their cultivable holdings.17 The state recognized
that these evictions were a "serious matter," but it could
not refute the British Central Africa Company's assertions
that the forced removals were legal since few inhabitants
had lived on company land when Sharrer originally "bought"
it.18

The evictions worried Zomba because they made local
administration more difficult. As more people wandered
around the country searching for shelter, it became harder
to establish villages in which the District Administration
Natives Ordinances could be implemented.19 Without these

villages, the state could not appoint the headmen needed to

249

run the system.20 The Southern Province Commissioner
bitterly complained that the ”continuous ebb and flow of
natives... increases greatly to the difficulties of such
questions as...the control of villages.'21

One way in which the state hoped to relieve rural
upheaval was the cotton scheme. Throughout this period, the
administration tried to encourage prolonged tenure by
advising Africans to plant cotton. J.K.F. Coutanche, the
Cholo Resident, noted that the "government was desirous of
encouraging the growing of cotton by natives to the fullest
possible extent...in Cholo District."22 A short time later,
he added that ”during [my] visit to the plain [I] took
every opportunity of emphasizing that government was very
anxious to encourage cotton growing."23

The state encouraged this practice because it believed
its agreement with the British Cotton Growers Association
had solved potential problems with cotton markets. Several
years later, the Director of Agriculture pointed out that
if a peasant producer "does not sell [his crop] at a price
which suits him he is extremely disgruntled and thinks the
government has not played the game by him.'24 Since the
cotton monopoly fixed prices, Zomba assumed that Cotton
Growers' concession would eliminate this kind of indigenous
discontent.

Zomba also sought to increase revenue while quashing
discontent. The state stood to profit from cotton

cultivation because it received fifty percent of any

250

profits the Cotton Growers Association made. So the more
cotton grown, the greater the potential revenue. Indeed, by
1924, the agreement earned the administration #5576/4/7.25
Unfortunately, the cotton scheme had devastating
effects on the country. The Cotton Growers Association kept
prices "at low and relatively stable levels" throughout the
1920s.26 As a result, African cotton producers could not
accumulate much capital, and many lived a precarious
existence.27 The administration indirectly admitted to the
cotton scheme's failure when E.J. Wortley, the director of
Agriculture, confessed that "we are very puzzled with what
the natives do with their money."28 Moreover, the
Association could not continue to offer low prices, and by
the late 19203 rural unrest was emerging in cotton
producing areas.29
The state was not entirely unsuccessful in its
attempts to win over its subjects' hearts. Throughout 1923,
Zomba pushed for the establishment of rural dispensaries in
Crown Lands.3o District officers “endeavoured at every
meeting of headmen to point out that the establishment of
these dispensaries...is solely for the benefit of the
native population."31 The Chief Secretary also reminded the
provincial commissioners that ”the Governor attaches much
importance to this innovation, and trusts that all possible
steps will be taken to make them as useful to and popular
with the native community as their necessarily limited

equipment permits."32

251

There is little question that the state achieved its
goal with these primitive health centers. The Provincial
Commissioner of the Southern Province reported that "the
dispensaries have been universally successful and it is a
matter for congratulation that Government is able to point
to a very tangible proof of its interest in the welfare of
the people."33 At least one resident reinforced this point
by pointing out that ”institution of rural
dispensaries...has a marked effect on the native mind."34

The state recognized that it needed to do more than
provide basic health care for the indigenous population. It
also needed to control their minds as well. Therefore,
Zomba began censoring indigenous mail in order to "prevent
the circulation of seditious pamphlets and papers.'35
Although the secretariat struggled to find legal bases for
this action, the practice was established and implemented
throughout the twenties.36 Nor did the state stop with
mail; it also insisted that films be carefully screened.37

Zomba's desire to win over its subjects' hearts and
minds became imperative as Native Associations emerged and
matured, giving Africans a vehicle through which they could
articulate their discontent. By 1923, associations existed
in Southern Nyasaland, Mombera, West Nyasa the Central
Province and North Nyasa.38

These groups were not content with passively accepting

the fitgtug‘gng. The charter of the Southern Nyasaland

Native Association pointedly mentioned that it sought not

252

only "to assist the government in every way, especially by
keeping it informed of Native public opinion" but also ”to
assist the Native by representing him in all political
matters, [and] by keeping him informed of and explaining
the objects of legislation-both new and already in
force."39 The Zomba Committee of the Northern Province
Native Association later strengthened these sentiments by
claiming that ”we want to be given the chance which some
Colonies and Protectorates have got...We want to be given
facilities for development near our own homes, given
markets with good prices for [our] crops."°

The administration accepted these groups with
remarkable grace. After the formation of the Southern
Province Native Association, the Chief Secretary informed
its members that "His Excellency [the Governor] welcomes
the institution of such bodies...as he has no doubt of the
value of organisations designed to assist the Government in
giving information as to the opinions and needs of the

"‘1 The state clearly wanted to make sure

Native community.
that it kept abreast of indigenous feeling and remained
aware of African grievances. For example, in 1926, the
Chief Secretary notified the Provincial Commissioner of the
Central Province that while Native Associations "should be
accorded definite recognition," they also "should
invariably furnish the resident with a copy of the minutes
of meetings, and it is preferable that they should acquaint

him beforehand of an intended meeting so that when

253

expedient he may be able to attend.'42 In short, the state
43

wanted to keep a tight rein on these new associations.
Zomba also wanted to do more than merely watch the
emerging African associations: it also wanted to preempt
them if possible. To this end, the state attempted to
strengthen the District Native Administration. By doing so,
the administration frankly admitted the role the Native
Associations played in the state's determination to revive

a flagging indireCt rule:

Let us attempt to understand the motives which prompt
the formation of Native Associations which are to be
found in various parts of the country. A certain few,
so called educated natives, find that they have no
recognised authority through which they can make
recommendations to the Government and so they
organised themselves with this end in view. I think
they are good and excellent safety valves for
grievances which if fostered without outlet might lead
to seditious thought...however, they are a counter
attraction for the Native Administration Authorities,
whereas if that authority were properly constituted,
they could be made to co-operate with it for the
mutual benefit of Government and the masses. At the
present time they do not represent public opinion but
only the opinion of what they consider a superior
few.44

What went unsaid, of course, was that the state feared that
these ”certain few...educated' Africans would increase
their sway over their brethren unless Zomba established an
alternative social structure through the invention of neo-
traditional societies.

Coopting the new Native Associations was not the only
reason for revising the District Administration Natives
Ordinance By 1924, it had become obvious that traditional

authority was failing. As his career in Zomba wound down,

254

Governor Smith complained that “chiefs and headmen have no
longer...the power and influence they previously
wielded."45 Several months later, his successor added that
indigenous authorities must be strengthened so that the
state could implement a "system of native government
through the natives themselves."6
The reasons for this absence of traditional authority
remained unchanged. The wanton understaffing of the various
districts still left too much work for African chiefs to do
while the state's chronic poverty kept them from receiving
enough money. One provincial commissioner sardonically
commented that "the list of duties to be performed appears
to be somewhat elaborate taking into consideration the
purely nominal subsidy which they receive from
Government."47 Many headmen consequently shirked their
responsibilities. For example, the Provincial Commissioner
for the Southern Province complained that "headmen appear
lethargic and either unwilling or unable to exercise any
beneficial control over their people."48
Zomba's continuing inability to establish
"traditional" authority led to the passage of a new
District Administration Natives Ordinance in 1924.49 Like
much of Zomba's legislation, the differences between this
law and its predecessor in 1912 are confusing and
unclear.so At least one source claims that the ordinance

was the same as Standing Order 118 of the 1914 BegidgntL§
flgnghggk.51 Nevertheless, the new ordinance apparently

255

aimed to increase the judicial power of indigenous
authorities, include more educated into traditional
councils, gain greater control of internal population
movements and provide greater penalties for neglect of
duties.52

The administration's typical shortsightedness
torpedoed the legislation before it even had a chance to be
implemented fully. Residents complained that it was hard to
establish traditional authorities if the government could
not furnish more funding for the program. The Resident at
Fort Manning complained about not having enough money for
chiefs' presents and noted that this state of affairs "is
bad for prestige."53 His Provincial Commissioner supported
his assertions by reminding the Chief Secretary that "many
of the headmen get less than a census clerk and
bricklayer...[and] village headmen are in a worse position
as a large number who should get something for good work
now get nothing."54 But Zomba, hamstrung by a lack of
finances, refused to increase fiscal support for the
establishment of indigenous authority.55 In this context,
it is hardly surprising that many chiefs were not diligent
about fulfilling their responsibilities. Nor did the
situation improve over time. Indeed, by the early thirties,
the country's high court reported an increase in fines for
neglect of duties.56

Zomba was not inactive as its dreams of establishing

indigenous authority turned into a nightmare. The

256

administration tried to incorporate the growing class of
educated Africans into the traditional structure by
expanding the role and membership of district councils.
These bodies consisted of Africans responsible for meeting
with district officers and working out any possible
grievances. The state hoped that the inclusion of educated
Africans would not only make indirect rule "work better"
but also "enable the more progressive ideas of the educated

to be carried out."57

The councils were not very successful though.58 In
1927, the Central Province Commissioner bitterly complained
that ”I have met all the councils and not one of them seems
to me to be the slightest use."59 Zomba again stressed
”that in the constitution of such councils the claims of a
certain proportion of natives, other than the headmen, who
have shown an intelligent desire to participate in public
affairs should be duly recognised."60 But little changed,
and in 1928, the Cholo Resident complained that "I am
particularly struck by the absence here of any proper
organization in Native Affairs such as is given by the
District Administration Natives Ordinance."61

Part of the problem apparently stemmed from the
advisory nature of the district councils. The Provincial
Commissioner of Zomba Province admitted that residents
still issued orders to their districts' councils, thereby
destroying the prestige of that body and thwarting their

desires.62 Thus, despite new plans, effective district

257

administration was still a long way off.

Part of Zomba's problem was the refusal of the
settlers to cooperate with the establishment of indirect
rule.63 The administration had early recognized that the
extensive land alienation in the country, especially the
southern regions, made it imperative that planters
cooperate in the appointment of chiefs and headmen.
Provincial commissioners tried to convince the settlers
that they should work with the administration, pointing out
that it was ”not the intention of the Government to force
obnoxious headmen upon them or interfere in anyway with the
normal working of their estate."64 But the settlers,
already unhappy about the government's highhandedness,
refused to participate in the creation of traditional
authority on their estates. In January 1924, the Chamber of
Commerce and Agriculture, the unofficial body most
sympathetic to the state, registered strong disapproval of
the proposed bill.65 Nor was this opinion an aberration. As
early as 1922, several local Planters Associations had made
it known that they would not accept any revision of the
District Administration (Native) Ordinance.66

The unofficial community's distaste for the
administration stimulated much of this resistance. By 1924,
the animosity between state and settlers had reached
unprecedented levels, in large part because of Zomba's
decisions. Settlers were upset about the cotton monopoly,

especially since government advisers claimed that "it does

258

not appear that cotton will do well if grown on large
acreages...[as] the whites were doing."67 Settlers were
also upset about the rural dispensaries established in 1923
and claimed that Africans were "getting more advantages
every year."68 So when they got an opportunity to block
administrative efforts, the planters were undoubtedly more
than happy to take it.

The settlers had rare opportunity to tweak the state
because of continued capitalist fractionalization.69
Expatriate divisions were nothing new of course; they had
hobbled settlers on at least two previous occasions. But by
1923, unprecedented divisions were appearing within the
unofficial community. In February 1923, the Mlanje Planters
Association vehemently complained about the Nyasaland
Chamber of Commerce and Agriculture's apparent disregard of
their interests.70 By mid-summer, the Chamber's "lack of
consideration" caused the South Nyasa Planters Association
to withdraw from the organization.71 Other groups soon
followed; in February 1925 the Cholo Planters Association
left, and in January 1926 the MVanza Planters Association
quit.72

The dissolution of the Chamber was no surprise. As
early as 1923, the territory's newspaper pointed out that
the small planter's ”only hope is in intelligent co-
operation, for in these days of combines and great
aggregations of capital it is only by co-operation that

people will be able to get even an approximate share of the

259

wealth they produce."73 By 1926, even the administration
recognized that the small planter ”has no one to protect
his interests.”74 Leaders of the Chamber admitted that "the
District members were not always able to attend the
Committee meetings and were not conversant with the
subjects” being discussed.75 As a result, the disaffected
associations formed a Convention of Associates in October
1925 and asked the ”Government to accord recognition to &
consult the new body on all matters pertaining to the
welfare of agriculture generally.'76

The formation of such an organization was disastrous,
and experienced settlers called for unity. For example,
R.H. Hynde lamented the fragmentation of the settler
community and argued that "there is one ground for
pessimism as regards the Europeans of this country, and
that is their total lack of co-operation, which is probably
inherent in the nature of the people who come to a country
such as this."77

Zomba made the situation even worse by encouraging
greater disunity within the expatriate community. After the
Planters Association complained about not being included in
government deliberations, the Chief Secretary told its
officers ”that in the opinion of the Government, it would
be advantageous if one body representing planting interests
could be recognized or, failing that, if a standing joint
committee of your Association and the Chamber could be set

up which could authoritatively present to Government the

260

views not only of both these bodies but of all planting
Associations in the Protectorate."78 But unifying the
organizations was an onerous task complicated by the
machinations of Hynde and his newspaper.79 By November
1926, Timcke, the leader of the renegade planters,
complained that ”"I am not very enthusiastic re the 'one
body' stunt, it is just a wheeze of Government to play off
the Chamber against the NPA."80 Ultimately, the dissension
among the Europeans would reap a devastating harvest both
for the settlers and for Malawi.

But it did not appear to be too serious a problem at
the time because of the tremendous economic recovery
occurring in the country. New schemes, like the Sabbatini-
Tennett plan for building a synthetic ammonia plant,
emerged and planters finally began to earn some profits.81
At the heart of this prosperity was the emergence of
tobacco. This crop, first undertaken seriously after the
war, had finally arrived by the mid 19208.82 By 1927, Limbe
not only had "the largest [tobacco] factory...outside
America," but Malawian planters actually exported at least
fourteen million pounds of tobacco.83

The expansion of tobacco cultivation also strengthened
the articulation between Great Britain and Malawi's
economy. Many settlers found that their best prospects lay
in working in partnership with metropolitan brokers. I.M.
Conforzi and J. Tennett went into partnership with Clagett,

Brachi & Co., a tobacco brokerage in London, while A.J.

261

Storey established a London office in Mitre Square.84 These
offices not only gave Malawi's producers greater access to
metropolitan markets, but it also gave them unprecedented
access to the British public.85 This closer articulation
was very positive, of course, since it reinforced the
country's position in metropolitan markets and thus
strengthened commodity production.

Tobacco cultivation also created problems by
strengthening multinationals' position in the territory. By
far the most important character in the expansion of
tobacco cultivation was the Imperial Tobacco Company. It
was this corporation which was largely responsible for the
extensive cultivation of the green leaf in Malawi. And its
company officers grew rich as they speculated in land
during the 19203, adding to the country's wealth by
skimming funds away from the company and expanding the
terriotry's capitalist class.86

The company's biggest contribution to Malawi was the
enormous extension of indigenous cultivation which it
sponsored. Having Africans grow tobacco was not an entirely
new idea of course. Imperial tobacco had bought leaf from
African planters before the war, and continued to do so
afterwards. In 1920, the company bought some #1383/15/6
worth of tobacco from twenty four Africans, including a
spectacular i394/18/5 from Hugh Mataka.87 By 1923, the
Provincial Commissioner for the Southern Province reported

that the Blantyre & East Africa tobacco factory in Blantyre

262

"deals entirely with native grown produce."88 This
production palled in comparison with the scheme which
Imperial Tobacco officers now undertook in the country's
Central Province.

This undertaking, commonly known as the Barron scheme,
actually started in the early 19208 when A.F. Barron
obtained huge sections of land in the Central Province. By
the 1922-23 season Barron's success with fire-cured tobacco
led him "to try the experiment of laying out plots,
supplying seedlings from his nurseries, and inviting
Africans from nearby African Trust Land to come and grow a
crop on his estate."89 The initial experiment was very
successful and by the end of 1924, some five hundred and
fifty-three African tenants had begun growing tobacco on
Barron's estates.90

Such a development was especially welcome in the
Central Province.91 The recession had accelerated the rate
of labor emigration in the early 19203, and authorities
openly worried that the migrants would never return home,
thus depriving the country of tax-payers.92 Even though an
economic slump in Rhodesia slowed labor migration in 1923,
the state was clearly concerned about the constant drainage
of subjects. Moreover, there was real concern about the
impression made on the underemployed indigenous community
by "the Watch Tower folk."93 So when E.W. Howard, Imperial
Tobacco's man in Malawi, told Zomba that he was sure the

scheme "will do a lot towards starting the boys in this

263

district producing economic crops," the administration
responded enthusiastically.94

Zomba, worried that unrestrained activity would create
problems, decided to control the industry to make sure that
the situation did not get out of hand. So on June 9 1924,
the Chief Secretary informed various important settlers and
administrators that some type of control of the new
industry was vital.95 The Central Province Commissioner
seconded this opinion, stressing that control of prices
through some sort of market board would ensure that after a
drop in price "the native would at once conclude that the
Government did not wish them to be in a position of earning
money...and emigration would increase. Past experience has
proved, in cotton, that if there is any set back it is
extraordinarily difficult to get the natives to again take
an interest in such undertaking."96 By December, the same
official requested that a system like the British Cotton
Growers Association monopoly also be established for
tobacco.97

Such a concession had obvious appeal to the
administration. In return for the guaranteed market, it
could negotiate controls on indigenous production which it
could not otherwise establish. The Central Province
Commissioner had already demonstrated this potential by
suggesting that cultivation be limited to one acre even
though at least one agricultural expert claimed that "a

field of five acres,which is the average in tobacco on

264

each farm in the United States, is a useful unit to manage
correctly."98 Barron definitely wanted to establish an
arrangement similar to the British Cotton Growers
Association.99 After all, in addition to the costs of the
nurseries, he also was ready to engage three European
advisors and forty gapitggfi as long as he knew that he
would not lose his crops to "itinerant purchasers."loo

In the end though, the state, prodded by its superiors
in Whitehall, could not justify conceding this kind of
arrangement to any large firm.101 One of the biggest
factors which inhibited the state was the mass influx of
European tobacco buyers into the Central Province after
Barron started his scheme.102 Even Zomba's considerable
autonomy would be stretched to the breaking point by
granting Barron a concession which thwarted the ambitions
of powerful individuals like Conforzi and Storey.103

But the need for some sort of reform was pressing. In
1924, the Nyasaland Tine; reported that "what is wanted
is...to teach the native how to cultivate tobacco properly
and how to manure it so as to sustain the quality and
yield."104 In 1925, the Central Province's Commissioner
insisted that the industry "must be controlled otherwise
the natives will lose their heads and ruin it by the
production of large quantities of inferior tobacco which
they will find difficult in selling."105 He later backed up
this observation by noting that African methods of
cultivation contributed to soil exhaustion and the

265

introduction of new leaf diseases.106

Nor was quality control the state's only concern.
Zomba was also worried about the discontent which might
emerge from African participation in the new tobacco
markets. Kirby Green, the Central Province Commissioner
anxiously informed Imperial Tobacco's mandarins that
"unless something is done to check this senseless
competition prices will go up so high that next season
there will be a drop and the native will at once suspect
that the drop is to defraud him and he will atop growing as
was the case with the cotton where the slump occurred."1°7
Kirby Green's concerns in this regard seemed well founded.
Less than a month after the commissioner's warning,
Imperial Tobacco's Malawian chief informed him that the
company was “very much worried over the senseless
competition which is taking place at the present time, and
unless something is done the industry will go to pieces.
The present price that is being paid to the natives is
entirely too high, and the trade will not stand for it
long."108

The simultaneous expansion of indigenous tobacco
cultivation in the southern provinces increased Zomba's
concern even more. In 1926, the Southern Province's Annual
Report noted that African cultivators produced some 762
tons of tobacco.109 By 1927, that production increased to
1272 tons.110 Indeed, tobacco farming became so popular in
districts like Cholo that hundreds of Africans took up that

266

activity even as reductions in food production boosted
prices and threatened famine.111

This kind of indigenous participation was not
surprising of course. Malawi's Africans were always looking
for ways to accumulate more capital.112 Court records
throughout this period are filled with information about
the indigenous population's capitalist ambitions.113 So as
new opportunities opened up in tobacco, Malawians were
bound to respond enthusiastically, especially since the
Agriculture Department reported that they could earn up to
50/- per month.11§ Of course, that kind of response made
the state even more anxious to control the expanding
industry. The lessons of the Chilembwe rebellion had not
been forgotten, and the state was determined to oversee
primitive accumulation as much as possible.

The result of all these anxieties was the
establishment of a Native Tobacco Board which regulated
African tobacco markets. The members of the board initially
were the Director of Agriculture, the Treasurer and the
Provincial Commissioner for Zomba.115 A 10/- licensing fee
for buyers and a 2/6 tax on every 100 pounds of tobacco
bought supported its operations. In return for these
levies, the board supervised African production and
supposedly ensured that indigenous planters received fair
prices for their produce in honest markets.116

This type of arrangement was superficially

satisfactory. The state retained ultimate authority while

267

making sure that indigenous production proceeded apace and
everyone earned a fair return. The Native Tobacco Boards'
autonomy also ensured that no expatriate capitalists were
excluded from the bonanza unfolding in the Central and
Southern Provinces.

But with an almost tragic inevitablity, the
establishment of the Tobacco Board planted the seeds for
future problems. One of the most serious difficulties
involved the provision of gapitggs. Zomba's slender
exchequer left it with inadequate resources to pay for
agricultural assistance. The governor admitted that ”the
agricultural staff was not really large enough...[because
of] the present system whereby any fresh [government]
expenditure had to show a probable 200% return before
Treasury sanction could be received."117 The Director of
Agriculture reinforced the inadequacy of the agricultural
staff as late as 1928 by pointing out that each tobacco
officer supervised "perhaps 5,000 tobacco growers.”118

The state's solution was to subcontract agricultural
positions to various large planters. This decision made
sense in some respects: the planters had already developed
cadres of agricultural advisors who had proved their
utility and shown that they were indispensible to the
expansion of the industry. For instance, in 1925 the
Provincial Commissioner for the Central Province claimed
that the withdrawal of Mr. Barron's advisors from Masula

region had ensured such a poor crop that there had been "no

268

sale or very low prices, the very thing one was hoping
would be avoided, as it will set back the industry very
greatly."119

But relying on selected expatriates was bound to lead
to abuses and unhappiness. Soon after the establishment of
the Native Tobacco Board, Kirby Green complained that "I am
not at all satisfied with the way in which Mr. Conforzi is
carrying out supervision."120 The Dedza Resident supported-
his boss by claiming that "I have myself observed small
nurseries in all the villages I have passed through [in
Conforzi's region], [but] these appear to have been planted
on the initiative of the natives themselves."121

Abuses were not the only problem with subcontracting
gapitggg. Many planters were very unhappy that they were
excluded from supervision by government fiat. For instance,
J.J. McCarthy, an ambitious planter in Dedza, found that
A.J. Storey and I.M. Conforzi now supervised the region he
had developed.“2 McCarthy found this situation onerous and
complained that the subcontracting system effectively
provided certain planters with subsidies.123 A year later,
still upset, he argued that he who bought the tobacco
should supervise its cultivation.124 Nor was McCarthy
alone. Tait Bowie, another prominent planter, bitterly
commented that "owners of large private estates, who at
enormous expense founded this industry, have received
neither compensation nor protection...[and] who are now

being taxed for the privilege of developing a native

269

industry would have a just right to claim that their
supervision expenses be paid also."125
Subcontracting was not the expatriates' only
complaint. Settlers were also upset that the government was
encouraging African production yet again after continuing
to ignore the planters. W. Tait Bowie complained that he
thought "we are encouraging [indigenous cultivation] a
little too quickly."126 And a representative of the Mlanje
Planters Association groused that, despite the assistance
to indigenous planters, "the services provided by the
Nyasaland Government by way of technical enquiry and
research for tea or tobacco are still more or less of a
modest beginning."127 A
Planters were also upset that indigenous tobacco
production was ”seriously affecting the supply of labour
available for European estates."128 A member of the Cholo
Planters Association complained that "nearly 90 per cent of
our labour comes from Portuguese territory."129 He left
little doubt that tobacco production was the culprit when
he added that "the previous year we had Angoni down from
up-country, but they are now engaged on growing tobacco. If
it were not for Portuguese labour most of us would have to
close down." The situation did not improve over time
either; in 1938 a southern planter griped that "up to 1928,
we never had any Portuguese labour: we had natives from the

northern province. It was only after they started native

tobacco growing that they were not really encouraged to

270

come down...Nowadays it is unfashionable with them to work
in the south.”130

Food also became a problem as more Africans devoted
their energies toward tobacco cultivation rather than to
the growth of foodstuffs.131 The consequent inflation in
food prices further hindered the recruitment of labor for
the estates.132 Thus, Zomba's decision to encourage
indigenous cultivation undermined estate production and
restricted the accumulation of capital during the boom
years. But the devastating fractionalization of the
capitalist class, which manifested itself in the struggle
between the Nyasaland Planters Association and the
Nyasaland Chamber of Commerce and Agriculture, precluded
the settlers from acting in concert against the legislation
and its implementation.

Ironically, the Tobacco Board also threatened the
indigenous community's ability to accumulate capital. In
large part, the threat to Africans' prosperity resulted
from Zomba's anxiety about the emergence of African
capitalists in the Central Province. In 1927, the
administration expressed reservations about the "abuses
[which] often arise when the more ambitious natives engage
others for the cultivation of economic crops."133 That
concern became more acute as the Tobacco Board's Mlanje
Representative noted that "at least two of the larger
native tobacco growers [here] have, this year, transferred

their activities to the Lilongwe district, thinking that

271

conditions there may be more congenial than here."134

Zomba's response to these concerns was the restriction
of production. The state decided to control the amount of
tobacco which Africans could grow on crown land to ensure
that no one would earn too much from commodity production
and actually begin capitalist rather than peasant
production.135 These limitations ultimately drove many
Africans on to estates as sharecroppers and further
antagonized an already restless indigenous community.136
Nevertheless, they inhibited the emergence of new social
formations which had the potential to threaten the state.

Even restricted indigenous production created problems
for Zomba. In particular, concerns about the impact on
families of large scale land alienation emerged as Barron
and others established themselves in the "dead north.“137
As more Africans took up cultivation, traditional social
structure broke down around Lilongwe, and the type of
social confusion which had already occurred in the south
developed in the country's Central Province.138 Zomba's
solutions to certain problems could not prevent others from
emerging.

Just as the government began implementing its
programs, the ho tom dropped out of the metropolitan
tobacco markets.139 This price collapse ended tobacco's
boom years and inaugurated another recession. Arthur
Westrop, a planter whose memoirs chronicle the rise of tea

in Malawi, claimed that as "prices [fell] below the cost of

272

production," Timcke, the leader of the rebellious Planters
Association, "abandoned tobacco growing and for the time

being lived on rents from Indian stores built on another

division of the main road."140

Other planters were not as fortunate. Brokers in
London could not sell tobacco shipped home on consignment

and sent bills for storage to the settlers whose very

existence depended on the sale of the warehoused goods.141

The Nyasaland Tings described the country's precarious
economic situation when it made the following comments
about a supplement to Ins Tinss:

One advertisement shows an apparently prosperous
planter in the midst of an ideal field of tobacco.
Would it not have more truthfully portrayed the
present deplorable state of affairs if it had depicted
blocks of warehouses at home crammed with unsold bales
of tobacco, bulking sheds stuffed with unsaleable
piles, storekeepers writing 'sorry, none' on planters'
requisitions for necessary goods, and at the same time
calling to their assistants for Mr. so and 30's
account (to be handed to the messenger) upon which the
most conspicuous indictment (written in red ink) is
'this account is long overdue: cheque will oblige'? Or
perhaps a series of pictures of the interior of a bank
with an obsequious planter at the counter, a look of
pitiful entreaty on his face, his pockets and hands
full of documents, and the manager looking very
sympathetic, but determined, and vigorously shaking
his head?142

Nor was the recession limited to the expatriate community.
The paper also complained that the drop in prices had
placed the African industry "in danger."143 The Great
Depression had arrived in Malawi with a vengeance, and it
would be a long time before the country recovered

economically.

273

The collapse of tobacco prices ironically strengthened
the Imperial Tobacco Company's position. Eric Emtage noted
that ”for people who were selling to Imperial, it was easy"
even during the slump's worst period.144 But he made it
clear that the company took advantage of the situation,
pointing out that ”when the bad times came, Imperial
stopped buying from them. Well, they kept us going--the
little people. But those fellows who had their London
connections, they wouldn't buy from them. And some of them
went broke. Sabbatini for instance."

Contemporary records bear out his testimony. At the
first meeting of the newly established Convention of
Associates, a delegate claimed that Imperial had "75% of
the business, that another 5 or 6 manufacturers control 15%
and the remaining 10% is divided amongst about 200
manufacturers...One does not have to be an alarmist to
forsee the time when the Trust will control 100% of the
Home market."145 At the same meeting, the minority report
of the Tobacco Industry Committe asserted that "it is not
good for the industry that 75% of the home trade should be
controlled by one organisation, and it must be apparent to
everyone that in order to retrieve the situation heroic
measures will have to come about, otherwise the position
will get worse and Empire Tobacco growers will merely exist
at the direction of a huge monopoly."146

Imperial's decision to take advantage of the recession

was bad news for the country. Cotton had already been taken

274

over by a metropolitan trust: now another crop was
threatened. While those developments would undoubtedly help
cultivation because the trusts could afford to provide
assistance, it also meant that primitive accumulation would
not occur locally. Instead, dependency on Britain would
increase, and the local economy would be made more
precarious. Moreover, the establishment of another cartel
would effectively diminish the government's ability to rule
since it would be even more susceptible to business
pressure from England.

Zomba tried to avoid the monopolization of tobacco by
passing an ordinance aimed at regularizing the position of
tenants on southern estates.137 The legislation stated that
”no maximum annual rent...shall be less than the cash
equivalent of two months' average pay or greater than the
cash equivalent of three months average pay of agricultural
workers of the district."148 In theory tenants were
protected from wholesale eviction if they chose to pay cash
rather than work for estate owners, but for all practical
purposes the new law reinstated thsngstg. The Provincial
Commissioner of the Southern Province admitted as much by
claiming that the law would ”help the landlord to get more
work out of his tenants...because they will have to work
three months in the wet season or six months in the dry
season to get remission of their rent.”149

These provisions would naturally help the settlers

since it would help solve their pressing labor problems.

275

However, its late passage ensured that it would at best
allow the hardiest planters to hang on rather than expand
estate cultivation. Part of the delay resulted from the
state's usual disorganization. Zomba had struggled with the
bill for some three years because "trouble was being
experienced by the Residents in furnishing detailed
descriptions of the land which they were of opinion should
be set aside for the use of natives, and the Lands Officer.
had advised that a description of the boundaries would be a
matter of some difficulty as so many private estates
scattered throughout these lands had not been surveyed."150
Even after it unraveled these mysteries, the administration
could not figure out what maximum rents should be on
estates.151

One suspects that Zomba also delayed the introduction
of the tenants legislation because the administration was
still unsympathetic to the settlers' labor problems. The
Cholo Planters Association bluntly informed the Hilton
Young Commission that ”the Government will not believe
there is a labour shortage."152 Governor Bowring
substantiated this assertion when he insisted that ”the
labour problem for European planters was not generally
acute in Nyasaland."153

Even administrators who realized that the planters did
have problems were generally callous. For instance,

Commissioner Kirby Green pointed out that planters needed
to provide "better housing and food" before they could

276

recruit workers.154 In large part, the state's indifference
probably stemmed from its continuing belief that the
country's future lay with the indigenous, not the
expatriate, population. Kirby Green conceded as much when
he admitted that "the development of the country really
depends on the native more than the white population.”

The problem with Zomba's adoption of this philosophy
was that the government's way of directing indigenous
economic activity actually impoverished the country.
Peasant production schemes inevitably strengthened multi-
nationals who produced enclave economies, not primitive
accumulation. Moreover, the state's supervision also
limited indigenous accumulation and thus thwarted
significant African "development." So destroying European
estates not only stopped one means of primitive
accumulation, but it also ensured that no avenue towards
this goal was possible.

Perhaps a dim recognition of this problem caused Zomba
to overturn years of tradition and finally offer real
assistance to the planting community. Although the
government still proclaimed a number of people Distressed
British Subjects, Zomba finally heeded the desperate pleas
of the planting community.155 In June 1928, Zomba asked
London for some £20,000 in aid since "it would be of
benefit to the country to retain these individuals in the
Protectorate by tiding them over their present
difficulties."156 By August, the administration had gained

277

approval for #8000 which could be given as advances and
informed the planters that these funds were available.157

Even here Zomba could not entirely abandon its wanton
callousness. In 1929, the administration noted that
although twenty six planters had applied for #8685, it had
only approved nineteen applicants and advanced them
14855.158 The program's enormous success demonstrated its
potential. By December 1929, the Auditor reported that only
i946/7/10 was still owed from the #4855 advanced and that
virtually all of that money was "likely to be fully paid
during December."159

Zomba's actions were too little too late. The
administration might save a few planters, but it could not
rescue the sinking planters. The greatest tragedy in all
this was that Zomba had failed to fulfill its own ambitions
despite the roadblocks it had placed before ambitious
capitalists. The state's authority was at best chimerical.
Its structure was still ill defined and inadequate, and it
was still riven by the lack of a comprehensive program and
its administrators' frustrations.

In essence, Zomba had let its last chance slip through
its fingers during the 1920s. But the origins of that
failure lay in the years of misrule and ineptness which had
preceded the golden decade. The inadequacies of the past
were too much for the state to overcome, and the
opportunity to redress the situation never really came

again before the years of federation ended the country's

278

colonial experience. Like the decades before it, the

twenties were a loss for both state and society.

1.

ENDEQIE§

Perhaps the two best examples of these growing
metropolitan ties with East Africa involved the
creation of the Joint East Africa Board in 1923 and
the British Empire Exhibition held at Wembley in the
summer and fall of 1924. A number of publications also
indicate that economic ties with the metropole were
growing stronger, notably F.S. Jolson's East AEEIQQ-
This journal openly declared in its first issue that
”service is our watchword, service to East Africa,
service to British trade, service to our readers, and
our advertisers," E§§§.AII1£§. 1 (September 25 1924).

M.N.A. NY 2/1/1, Minutes of the Nyasaland Civil Servants
Association, February 14 1923 and February 22 1923. At
the first meeting Meredith Sanderson claimed that
allowances were "grossly unjust” while at the later
one Mr. Wortley, eventually a Director of Agriculture
and Chairman of the Native Tobacco Board, claimed that
recent government actions towards the lowly
administrators were "nothing less than an outrage."

M.N.A. NC 1/3/2, Humble Petition from Native Civil
Servants, Blantyre May 10 1923 enclosed in A. Kalinga
to Provincial Commissioner Central Province, September
12 1923.

Foreign and Commonwealth Office Library, Evidence of the
Hilton Young Commission, Volume II, Interview with
H.E. Sir Charles Bowring, March 19 1928.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Interview with T.M. Partridge, March 22 1928.

African employees would undoubtedly be cheaper since
African civil servants earned less than their European
cohorts. However, Zomba apparently was leery of giving
too much prestige to its indigenous subjects,
preferring to confine indigenous activity to the
system of traditional authority and not the European
state.

M.N.A. HM AD 1/2/1/1, "Notes for the Guidance of
Provincial Administrators," quoted in The Provincial
and District Administration 1891-1963--Historical
Notes, Part I, Introduction.

279

8. The administration also hoped that this system would be

helped by the appointment of its best residents to the
new positions. To this end, it appointed two of its
best officers to commissionerships in 1922 with the
appointment of E.F. Colville in the Central Province
and E. Costley White in the Southern Province. For
more on these officers, see M.N.A. HM AD 1/2/3/1,
Provincial and District Administration--Nominal Rolls,
Part III.

9. For instance, in 1927 the Provincial Commissioner of the

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

Southern Province complained that understaffing made
administration virtually impossible for residents in
Chiradzulu, Port Herald and Chikwawa, M.N.A. NS 3/1/1,
Annual Report, Southern Province, 1927.

M.N.A. NSE 5/2/1, Quarterly Report, Cholo District,

September 30 1928.

This was an especially pressing problem because many

planters apparently depended on the marketing of these
kinds of imported foodstuffs for their workers. Since
these resources were already slender, restricting them
more was bound to have catastrophic results. However,
consequent reports indicate that the cattle were still
coming although everyone returning from Mozambique had
been visiting relatives and not buying cattle.

M.R.A. Minutes of the Mlanje Planters Association,

December 18 1922.

M.R.A. General Manager to Reginald Sharpe, January 4

1924.

Imperial Tobacco Company Archives, Deeds and Records,

Box 488, Deed # 6980, British Central Africa Company
to Imperial Tobacco Company, June 30 1927: Deed #
6982, British Central Africa Company to Imperial
Tobacco Company, July 16 1927: Box 501, Deed # 6773,
British Central Africa Company to C.A. Barron, March 4
1927. These land transfers all point out that at
extraordinary meetings held on January 15 and January
30 1924, "it was resolved that the old company would
be wound up voluntarily and that the said Harry
Folliott be appointed liquidator." It is interesting
to note this episode is missing in the Registrar-
General's files although the administration's history
included it. See Registrar General, File COY 4 and
History of the British Central Africa Company, C.O.
525/208/44332/3.

15. M.N.A. S 1/1748/23, Memo by Provincial Commissioner

Southern Province, June 16 1923: the company

16.

17.

18.

19.

20.

21.

22.

23.

24.

25.

26.

27.

280

apparently had a debt of some 69455/10/10. See
Registrar General, File COY 4, Annual Report, 1922. The
number of planters was mentioned in S 1/1748/23,

Annual Report, Southern Province, 1922-23.

Estate size was crucial since smaller estates could not
sustain the same number of tenants as the older and
larger holdings.

M.N.A. NSE 5/1/1, Annual Report, Cholo, 1922-23.

M.N.A. S 1/1748/23, memo by Rankine, July 3 1923:
Lonrho (Malawi) Company Files, Sharrer to Folliott,
July 8 1925. The British Central Africa Company's
opinion was seconded by other settlers as well, for
instance see M.N.A. S 1/1330/25, Memorandum [on]
Private Estates in Nyasaland, submitted by Hynde et
al., May 28 1925.

Villages were crucial to indirect rule as the 1910
village ordinance indicated. The state was still
struggling to define exactly what a "village" was as
late as 1928, see F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton
Young Commission, Memorandum on Native Administration
by the Provincial Commissioner of Zomba Province,
n.d..

M.N.A. S 1/1607/23, Provincial Commissioner Southern
Province to Chief Secretary, May 14 1923.

M.N.A. NS 3/1/1, Annual Report, Southern Province,
1923-24.

M.N.A. NSE 5/3/1, Minutes of District Council, Cholo,
June 3 1923.

M.N.A. NSE 5/3/1, Monthly Report, Cholo, July 1923.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of Mr. E.J. wortley, March 20 1928. Chanock
also points out that the state had this attitude
towards price fluctuations. See Chanock, "The
Political Economy...,' 118.

M.N.A. S 1/1702/21, Annual Returns, 1924. It is worth
noting that these returns show that the company then
made no profit in 1925 and 1926 and made profits in
'27 and '28.

Mandala! 1152:]: m W.H.-Ll 163-

Cotton producers certainly earned less than their
compatriots. For instance, in 1928, cotton cultivators

28.

29.

30.

31.

32.

33.

34.

35.

36.

37.

38.

281

earned between 20/- and 25/- a year while tobacco
growers could expect to earn approximately 50/- a
year. F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young
Commission, Evidence of H.C. Ducker, March 22 1928:
and Evidence of Mr. E.J. Wortley, March 20 1928.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of Mr. E.J. Wortley, March 20 1928. In this
case, it appears that government claims of prosperity
were unfounded and that instead of hoarding their
money, the indigenous community simply did not have
very much. Chanock mentions that this type of
confusion was not usual at this time. See Chanock,
"The political economy...,' 127.

Mandala. Kerk and sentreliri. 165.

Since a program would undoubtedly be very welcome
because of the devastating effects of disease on large
sections of the indigenous population at the end of
the First World War. For more on this subject, see
Page, ”Malawians...,” 216-220.

M.N.A. M 2/19/1, Report, Fort Manning District,
November 7 1923.

M.N.A. M 2/19/1, Chief Secretary to Provincial
Commissioners, Decemebr 16 1923.

M.N.A. M 2/19/1, Provincial Commissioner Southern
Province to Chief Secretary, December 3 1923.

M.N.A. M 2/19/1, Report for Year Ending October 31
1923, Rural Dispensaries, Kota-Kota District.

M.N.A. S 1/755/23, Provincial Commissioner Southern
Province to Chief Secretary, February 23 1923.

M.N.A. s 1/755/23, Resident, Zomba to Chief Secretary,
February 20 1923: Chief Secretary to Provincial
Commissioner Southern Province, April 10 1923: Chief
Commissioner Police to Chief Secretary, May 17 1926.

M.N.A. 8 2/7/27, Meeting of a Select Committee of the
Native Affairs Department, Nairobi, August 22 1928.

The Native AsSociation files are scattered through the
archives, but most are located in the following files,
M.N.A. S 1/1481/19, North Nyasa Native Association
(formed 1919): S 1/2065/19, West Nyasa Native
Association (formed 1919): s 1/210/20, S 1/2859/23, S
1/1365/24, Mombera Native Association (formed 1920): S
1/3263/23, Southern Province Native Association

39.

40.

41.

42.

43.

44.

45.

46.

47.

48.

49.

50.

51.

52.

282

(formed 1923): NC 1/3/2, Central Province Native
Association (formed 1923): NS 1/3/12, Zomba Native
Association (formed 1923): NS 1/3/4 Blantyre Native
Association (formed 1928): and S 1/1598/29, Chiradzulu
Native Association (formed 1929).

M.N.A. S 1/3263/23, Frederick Greshan, Secretary,
Southern Province Native Association, to Chief
Secretary, December 24 1923.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton-Young Commission,
"Note for Sir Hilton Young's Commission," from the
Northern Province Native Association (Zomba
Committee), n.d..

M.N.A. S 1/3263/23, Chief Secretary to Southern
Province Native Association, January 4 1924.

M.N.A. NC 1/3/2, Chief Secretary to Provincial
Commissioner Central Province, November 13 1926.

Which also included spying on them. See M.N.A. S
1/3263/23, Assistant Superintendent, CID to Chief
Commissioner of Police, May 15 1924.

M.N.A. S 1/937/29, ”Tribal History," by Mr. J O'brien.
M.N.A. NC 1/19/1, Minute by Smith, January 19 1922.
M.N.A. NC 1/19/1, Minute by Governor, March 30 1923.

M.N.A. NC 1/19/1, Provincial Commissioner Central
Province to Chief Secretary, August 13 1923.

M.N.A. NS 3/1/1, Annual Report, Southern Province,
1926-27.

M.N.A. S 1/1607/23, District Administration (Native)
Ordinance, Proclaimation 7 of 1924 enclosed in Rankin
to Colonial Office, September 19 1923.

For instance, see M.N.A. S 1/1607/23, Chief Secretary
to Provincial Commissioner Southern Province, April 28
1924: Provincial Commissioner Southern Province to
Chief Secretary, May 16 1924: Provincial Commissioner
Southern Province to Chief Secretary, October 2 1924.

M.N.A. NZ 1/2/1, Resident, Zomba to Provincial
Commissioner of the Zomba Province, December 27, 1928.

M.N.A. S 1/1607/23, Provincial Commissioner Southern
Province to Chief Secretary, May 14 1923: Rankin to
Colonial Office, September 19 1923: Provincial

53.

54.

55.

56.

57.

58.

283

Commissioner Southern Province to Chief Secretary,
October 2 1924: Provincial Commissioner Central
Province to Chief Secretary, December 31 1924;
Provincial Commissioner Central Province to Chief
Secretary, January 20 1925. It is worth noting that
Lord Hailey later stated that the ordinance actually
accomplished far less and only "gave the headmen the
new power of calling out compulsory labour for public
works, and...constituted a series of village, section,
and district councils, consisting of nominated headmen
and others." Lord Hailey, An Attissn sgzysy London,
1938), 463. However, since the councils had existed
before, it appears that Hailey was as confused about
the legislation as everyone else.

M.N.A. NC 1/5/9, Resident, Fort Manning to Provincial
CommissionerCentral Province, February 2 1924.

M.N.A. NC 1/5/9, Provincial Commissioner Central
Province to Chief Secretary, July 23 1924. In the
Southern Province, for instance, principal headmen
received 10/- a quarter, or a little more than 3/- a
month, clearly a low wage in the 1920s, NZ 1/2/1,
Southern Province Commissioner to Resident, Fort
Johnston, March 6 1930.

For instance, see M.N.A. NC 1/5/9, Chief Secretary to
Provincial Commissioner Central Province, June 17
1927.

M.N.A. S 1/1607/23, Extract from the Acting Judge of
High Court, Blantyre to Chief Secretary, September 2
1932.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of J.C. Abraham, March 21 1928.

Although there were some exceptions. For instance, the
Provincial Commissioner of Zomba Province informed his
residents that "in Blantyre the addition of a native
minister and two members of the Native Association to
the council has, I understand, added considerably to
the value of the Council.” M.N.A., NZ 1/2/1,
Provincial Commissioner of Zomba Province to Residents
Zomba, Liwonde and Fort Johnston, October 21 1926.
However, it would appear that this potential was
limited to areas of enormous economic activity since
the Liwonde Resident complained that "this district is
singularly lacking in resident educated natives
because the most intelligent have to seek work outside
as there is no scope for them within the boundaries of
this District.” NZ 1/2/1, Resident Liwonde to
Provincial Commissioner Zomba Province, December 15

59.

60.

61.

62.

63.

64.

65.

66.

67.

68.

284

1926.

M.N.A. S 1/1510/27, Provincial Commissioner Central
Province to Chief Secretary, May 14 1927.

M.N.A. S 1/1510/27, Chief Secretary to Provincial
Commissioners, March 22 1927.

M.N.A., NSE 5/2/1, Quarterly Report, Cholo, September
30 1928.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Memorandum on Native Administration by the Provincial
Commissioner of the Zomba Province, n.d..

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of J.C. Abraham, March 23 1928.

M.N.A. S 1/1607/23, Provincial Commissioner Southern
Province to Chief Secretary, May 16 1924.

M.N.A. NY 3/2/4, Minutes of the Nyasaland Chamber of
Agriculture and Commerce, January 29 1924.

M.N.A. NY 3/2/3, Minutes of the Nyasaland Chamber of
Agriculture and Commerce, November 28 1922. At this
meeting, the South Nyasa Planters Association, Zomba
Planters Association and the Mikalongwe Planters
Association all expressed opposition to any
legislative reform.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of H.C. Ducker, March 22 1928. Ducker was
actually the local representative of the Empire Cotton
Growing Association, which did the advising for the
British Cotton Growers Association. His comments
indicated that the country's cotton barons had
effectively written off estate cultivation of their
product, a decision bound to antagonize settlers,
especially since it had been made in favor of
indigenous cultivation.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission, Oral
Evidence of the Cholo Planters Association, March 25
1928. These types of issues were especially annoying
to settlers since they never felt they received
adequate medical or educational services from the
state.

69. This perspective contradicts the country's

historiography. See for instance Robin Palmer, ”White
Farmers in Malawi: Before and After the Depression,"

African Affairs. 84 (1985)-

285

70. M.N.A. NY 3/2/4, Minutes of the Nyasaland Chamber of
Agriculture and Commerce, February 23 1923.

71. M.N.A. NY 3/2/4, Minutes of the Nyasaland Chamber of
Agriculture and Commerce, July 31 1923.

72. M.N.A. NY 3/2/5, Minutes of the Nyasaland Chamber of
Agriculture and Commerce, February 24 1925, January 26
1926.

73- Nzasaland Times. January 2 1923-

74. M.N.A. NS 3/1/1, Annual Report, Southern Province,
1926.

75. M.N.A. NY 3/2/5, Minutes of the Nyasaland Chamber of
Agriculture and Commerce, October 1924.

76. M.N.A. NY 5/1/1, L.S. Norman, Secretary Nyasaland
Planters Association, to Chief Secretary, October 6
1925.

77. England Times. January 1 1926-

78. M.N.A. NY 5/1/1, Cholo Planters Association to Chief
Secretary [n.d.], Chief Secretary to Nyasaland
Planters Association, June 28 1926.

79. For the troubles involved with unity, see M.N.A. NY
5/1/1, Timcke to Withers, August 22 1926: Nyasaland
Planters Association to Chief Secretary, November 26
1926 [draft-- never sent]: Timcke to Withers, November
11 1926: N.Y. 5/1/2, Precis of Negotiations between
the Nyasaland Planters Association and the Nyasaland
Chamber of Agriculture and Commerce. In the November
11 letter, Timcke grouched that ”the Chamber
report..made me swear." One of the ironies involved
with these negotiations was the divisive role played
by R.H. Hynde, the Nyssslsng_11mss' editor, see M.N.A.
NY 5/1/1, Nyasaland Planters Association to Chief
secretary, August 17 1926: Chief Secretary to
Nyasaland Planters Association, August 4 1926: Timcke
to Withers, October 15 1926: Memo [n.d.], author
unknown. In the last document, an anonymous writer
claimed that a newspaper reporter admitted that his
articles about the Nyasaland Planters Association were
biased and defended that by pointing out that "of
course you must realise that having my job to hold
down: Mr. Hynde, you know, is very much against the
N.P.A. and actually I was writing under his
instructions.” Hynde's position was apparently due to
the editor's intense animosity towards Timcke.For
instance, note his scorn toward the planter in his

80.

81.

82. £15!

83.

84.

85.

86.

87.

88.

286

report of Timcke's speech to the Cholo Planters
Association in Nyasaland Times, August 3 1926.

M.N.A. NY 5/1/1, Timcke to Withers, November 9 1926.

M.N.A. S 1/1119/25, Sabbatini to Chief Secretary, June
24 1925.

Attiss, "Nyasaland Progress in 1924," from Nswadzi
(written January 5 1925), February 12 1925: "Tobacco
Growing in Nyasaland and the Rhodesias," by A.V.
Maunder, November 4 1926. Maunder was the head of
Clagett & Brachi while Nswadzi was F.S. Jolson's
principal informant in Malawi. Unfortunately, I have
never uncovered his identity.

M.N.A. S 1/1264 A/29, "History and Development of the
Tobacco Industry in Nyasaland," by Capt. Hornby. Other
sources say the figure was even higher. For instance
see F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Oral evidence of H.E.M. Pellatt, British Central
Africa Company representative, March 27 1928. Pellatt
claims the figure was over fifteen million.

I found this information in advertisements in F.S.
Jolson. ed-. Eastern Afriea Tedax (London. 1928).

The access to the markets was crucial, of course,
because of the nature of the commodity markets there
and because many settlers felt that local companies,
most notably Imperial Tobacco, never offered them fair
prices, interview, Robin Thorneycraft, Chimpeni
Estate, Zomba, July 22 1985. The growing ties were
also exemplified by the great Wembley show in 1924,
where Nyasaland had its own exhibition, see asst
511193, 4, October 16 1924.

For instance, in I.T.C., Box 501, it is clear that C.A.
Barron, eventually Imperial's General Manager in
Malawi, bought a 376 acre estate from the British
Central Africa Company for 444 and then sold it in a
depressed real estate market to Imperial for 672/16/2
a year and a half later. See Deed # 6773, British
Central Africa Company to C.A. Barron, March 4 1927:
Deed # 7469, C.A. Barron to Imperial Tobacco Company,
August 13 1928.

M.N.A. S 1/835/21, Howard to Chief Secretary, July 21
1921.

M.N.A. NS 3/1/1, Annual Report, Southern Province,
1923-24.

287

89. Rangeley, "A Brief History...Part I," 80: see also
M.N.A. S 1/2461/23, Provincial Commissioner Central
Province to Chief Secretary, March 19 1923.

90. M.N.A. NCL 4/1/1, Annual Report, Lilongwe, 1924.

91. The state was especially enthusiastic, as Chapter 6
demonstrated. In 1928, even the Provincial
Commissioner of the Southern Province conceded that
"it is the Central and Northern Provinces where there
is going to be development in the future," F.C.O.L.,
Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission, Evidence of
Kirby Green, Provincial Commissioner of the Southern
Province, March 26 1928.

92. M.N.A. NC 1/8/1, Resident, Ncheu to Chief Secretary,
July 19 1922. M.N.A. NC 1/8/1, Provincial Commissioner
to Chief Secretary, July 25 1922. '

93. M.N.A. S 1/1264 A/29, Minute by Governor, October 12
1924.

94. M.N.A. S 1/2461/23, Howard to Treasurer, October 24
1923: Treasurer to Provincial Commissioner Central
Province, October 30 1923.

95. M.N.A. S 1/1879/24, Rankine, Chief Secretary, to
Provincial Commissioner Southern Province, Provincial
Commissioner Central Province, Messrs. Howard, Barron,
Partridge, Hynde, Hetherwick, W.F. James,
Thorneycroft, Director of Agriculture, Secretary
Nyasaland Chamber of Agriculture and Commerce, June 4
1924.

96. M.N.A. S 1/1879/24, Provincial Commissioner Central
Province to Chief Secretary, June 23 1924.

97. M.N.A. S 1/1879/24, Provincial Commissioner Central
Province to Chief Secretary, December 3 1924.

98. M.N.A. S 1/1879/24, Provincial Central Province to
Chief Secretary, December 3 1924: S 1/1264 A/29, ”A
History...,' by Capt. Hornby.

99. M.N.A. S 1/2461/23, Barron to Chief Secretary, March 19
1924.

100. M.N.A. S 1/2461/23, Director of Agriculture to Chief
Secretary, May 22 1924.

101. M.N.A. S 1/2461/23, Barron to Chief Secretary, March
19 1924. The margin notes on this letter claim that
this action "would raise an outcry."

102.

103.

104.
105.

106.

107.

108.

109.

110.

111.

112.

113.

114.

288

S.O.M., Rangeley Papers, R 1/3/6, Conforzi to
Rangeley, June 13 1956: M.N.A. S 1/2461/23, AJJ.
Storey to Kirby Green, Provincial Commissioner
Central Province, January 9 1924. Both these letters
indicate that Conforzi and Storey moved north shortly
after Barron began his scheme.

Although Zomba did agree to talk Barron up in
discussions with headmen. M.N.A. S 1/2461/23, Minute
by Governor, October 12 1924.

Nyasaland Times. August 12 1924-
M.N.A. NC 1/2/9, Kirby Green to Howard, April 20 1925.

M.N.A. S 1/1879/24, Provincial Commissioner Central
Province to Chief Secretary, December 31 1925.

M.N.A. NC 1/2/9, Kirby Green to Howard, May 25 1926:
the need for reform is also noted in A 3/2/251,
Director of Agriculture to Treasurer, October 2 1926.

M.N.A. NC 1/2/9, Howard to Kirby Green, June 8 1926.
Ultimately, Howard's pessimism was justified since by
1928 missionaries in the Central Province complained
that "formerly practically all he people were paid a
good price for [tobacco], and this year I do not think
one in ten was satisfied" with the prices, F.C.O.L.,
Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission, Evidence of
Fathers Theriault and Parodis, March 22 1928.

M.N.A. NS 3/1/1, Annual Report, Southern Province,
1925-26.

M.N.A. NS 3/1/1, Annual Report, Southern Province,
1926-27.

M.N.A. NSE 5/3/4, Monthly Reports, Cholo, September,
October, and November 1926.

See for instance, see F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton
Young Commission, "Note for Sir Hilton Young's
Commission,” from the Northern Province Native
Association (Zomba Committee), n.d..

For instance, see the numerous cases in M.N.A. BE
1/2/1, District Court Record, Cholo, Native Civil
Cases 1921-26. The commonest activity recorded in
these involved purchases of sewing machines for use by

khsnfis tailors.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of A.F. Barron and E. Howard, March 26 1928.

115.

116.

117.

118.

119.

120.

121.

122.

123.

124.

125.

289

M.N.A. S 1/1879/24, Governor to Colonial Office,
February 20 1926. Unofficial members were later added,
but like LegCo, the Board always had an official
majority. This is a crucial point since the modern
literature on this body suggests that the Board was
from its inception an instrument of the big planters,
see for instance McCracken ”Planters, Peasants and the
Colonial State...,": and McCracken, "Share-
Cropping...'.

Of course, the question of a ”fair" price must be
qualified by the lessons learned from the
establishment of fixed prices in cotton markets.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission, .
Notes of [an] Interview with H.E. Sir Charles Bowring,
March 19 1928.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of Mr. E.J. Wortley, March 20 1928.

M.N.A. S 1/2461/23, Provincial Commissioner Central
Province to Chief Secretary, September 5 1925.

M.N.A. NC 1/2/9, Provincial Commissioner Central
Province to Native Tobacco Board, October 22 1926: the
first supervisory positions went to Barron and Wallace
in Lilongwe, and Conforzi and Storey in Dedza, see A
3/2/158, Minutes of the Native Tobacco Board, July 5
1926.

M.N.A. NC 1/2/9, Resident, Dedza to Provincial
Commissioner Central Province, December 23 1926: it is
worth noting that Conforzi's subsidized supervisor
apparently spent all his time in Lilongwe building
Conforzi's factory, not supervising cultivation. See
A 6/1/44, W.P. Tyler to Native Tobacco Board, October
22 1926.

M.N.A. A 3/2/158, Minutes of the Native Tobacco Board,
July 5 1926: for more on McCarthy's ambition, see 8
1/6/24, McCarthy to Resident, Dedza, December 11 1923,
enclosed in Resident, Dedza to Chief Secretary,
December 27 1923: NC 1/2/9, J.J. McCarthy to Native
Tobacco Board, June 29 1926.

M.N.A. NC 1/2/9, McCarthy to Resident, Dedza, August
25 1926.

M.N.A. NC 1/2/9, McCarthy to Resident, Dedza, July 15
1927.

M.N.A. A 6/1/35, Tait Bowie to Wortley, June 15 1926.

126.

127.

128.

129.

130.

131.

132.

133.

134.

290

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of W. Tait Bowie, March 22 1928.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of the Mlanje Planters Association, March 25
1928.

EBEL.AIIIQA. ”Tobacco Growing in Nyasaland...," by
Maunder, November 4 1926: for problems in Dedza, see L
3/25/1, Resident, Dedza to Attorney General, March 27
1926.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of the Cholo Planters Association, March 25
1928.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Rhodesia-Nyasaland Royal
Commission, Evidence of Mary Sharpe, June 27 1938.

There was little surprise in this decision since the
Director of Agriculture reported that an African
grower could make 20 for cultivating tobacco on a
plot of land which could at most produce 4 worth of
foodstuffs, although famine drove prices up. See
F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of MR. E.J. Wortley, March 20 1928.

M.N.A. A 3/2/146, R.M. Antill, Native Tobacco Board--
Mlanje, to Director of Agriculture, July 28 1927. As
early as 1926, the Provincial Commissioner of Zomba
Province reported that "various planters are
purchasing maize on and around their Estates but there
seems very little probability of their being able to
obtain their full requirements," NZ 2/2/1, Quarterly
Report, Zomba Province, June 30 1926. The lack of food
apparently set off an enormous inflation and contrary
to Wortley's assertions, the price of maize began
approaching the price of tobacco, especially as the
latter fell after 1927. For instance, I.C. Sanderson,
the manager of the A.L. Bruce Estates, claimed that
his tenants were earning between 30/- and 40/- for
growing maize and that these producers "do extremely
well--so many so well that they said they did not want
to grow tobacco," F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton
Young CommisSion, Evidence of I.C. Sanderson, March 22
1928.

M.N.A. A 3/2/146, Memo C.R. 1139/1927. Unfortunately,
this memo is incomplete and the absence of the last
page[s?] make a fuller citation impossible.

M.N.A. A 6/1/45, Native Tobacco Board, Mlanje to
Native Tobacco Board, Report I 3, December 3 1927. The

135.

136.

137.

138.

139.

140.

141.

142.
143.

144.

145.

291

assumption being that the more congenial atmosphere
meant that they could hire workers and expand
production, which of course is what peasant production
was supposed to curtail.

For an example of this kind of restriction, see M.N.A.
S 1/1879/24, Wertley [Chairman, Native Tobacco Board]
to Chief Secretary, November 7 1928.

Creating the kind of symbiosis which occurred on
southern estates earlier, see Woods, "Capitaos and
Chiefs...". For more on the growing African
restlessness, see Woods, "Malawi's Missing
Peasantry...'.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of the Federated Missions, March 22 1928. In
particular, Mr. Young of the Free Church of Scotland
worried the enormous ramifications” of the alienation
by "large companies for large plantations.” It is also
interesting to note that concern about indigenous
social structure was expressed by the country's
traditional ”representatives" of the African community
and not official sources whose concerns apparently did
not include these issues.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of the Federated Missions, March 22 1928.
This point became clear as Mr. Young and Mr. Bowman of
the Church of Scotland discussed the differences
between the northern and southern portions of the
country. Young claimed that traditional society still
lingered around Lilongwe while Bowman pointed out that
it had collapsed around Blantyre because of socio-
economic changes.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Oral evidence of Mr. E.J. Wortley, March 20 1928.

Arthur Westrop, EIEED 591g (Bulawayo, 1975), 39.
Interview, Eric Emtage, Newlands Rest Home, Limbe,

June 15 1985. Emtage said that "one man I know said
[to his broker] 'throw it in the Thames'.”

Exasaland.Times. April 27 1928-

Nxassland.Times. October 19 1928-

Interview, Eric Emtage, Newlands Rest Home, Limbe, June
15 1985.

M.N.A. NY 5/1/3, Minutes of the Nyasaland Convention

146.

147.

148.

149.

150.

151.

152.

153.

154.

155.

156.

292

of Associations, Timcke's comments, July 9 1928.

M.N.A. NY 5/1/3, Minutes of the Nyasaland Convention
of Associations, Tobacco Industry Committee, Minority
Report, July 9 1923.

East 81:121. July 5 1928-
Myambo, "The Shire Highlands...,' 72.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of Mr. Kirby Green, March 26 1928. Kirby
Green conceded that some tenants would have to ”shift
on to Crown Land," but felt that this problem would
not be severe.

M.N.A. L 3/35/6, Minute, Attorney General to Chief
Secretary, January 1 1927.

M.N.A. S 1/1330/25, Provincial Commissioner Southern
Province to Chief Secretary, February 6 1928: Minute #
29 by Provinéial Commissioner Zomba Province, February
18 1928. Most of the problem here stemmed from the
state's inability to figure out what average wages
were.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
Evidence of the Cholo Planters Association, March 25
1928.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commission,
"Notes of Interview with H.E. Sir Charles Bowring,"
March 19 1928.

F.C.O.L., Evidence of the Hilton Young Commissioner,
Evidence of Mr. Kirby Green, March 26 1928.

For instance, see M.N.A. NS 1/35/3, Provincial
Commissioner Southern Province to Chief Secretary,
November 1 1928. Being a DBS was of course the
greatest fear of many expatriates as well as the only
thing they felt an indifferent state provided, See
Emtage, ”Reminiscences...,' 18. And indeed during the
early 20s, that was all the planters received. The
Treasurer openly admitted that after the state failed
to provide assistance, ”a large number of growers
(mostly leaseholders) left the country, many being
assisted to do so by Government.“ See M. N. A. S

1/575 /28, Nyasaland Planters Association to Chief
Secretary, April 20 1928: Memo by Treasurer, May 14
1928.

M.N.A. S 1/5751/28, Zomba to Colonial Office, June 7

293

1928.

157. M.N.A. S 1/1751/28, Colonial Office to Zomba, July 27
1927: Colonial Office to Zomba, August 7 1927: Zomba
to Colonial Office, August 21 1927: Colonial Office to
Zomba, August 27 1927: Chief Secretary to Nyasaland
Planters Association, August 31 1927.

158. M.N.A. S 1/5751/28, Davidson Houston (Acting Governor)
to Colonial Office, July 16 1929.

159. Although one planter who received a 250 advance was in
liquidation and the Auditor only expected that the
state would obtain 10% of the advance back (which
would presumably pay for a DBS). M.N.A. Auditor to
Treasurer, December 7 1929.

Chapter Eight:
The Praxis of Colonialism

The saga of Malawi's colonial state does much to
demystify the enigma of colonialism. This tale quickly
dispels notions that the Zomba cooperated with capital to
exploit systematically the colony's indigenous populations.
Malawi's colonial administration could scarcely solve its
own problems, let alone scheme with economic classes intent
on a program of domination. Moreover, the pursuit of a
civil society, which the shaky state could control, forced
colonial administrators to attempt the establishment of a
social order inimical to capitalist ambition and primitive
accumulation.

In essence, the administration of colonial Malawi
created a dialectic between the territory's civil society
and socio-economic structures.1 This contradiction lay at
the heart of the colonial experience, and recognizing it
allows us to investigate economic rather than ideological
dialectics.2 This line of inquiry soon shows that the roots
of Africa's contemporary poverty lay in the inability of
colonial society, both European and indigenous, to fashion
a workable synthesis from the contradiction between
political imperatives and economic ambitions.

This failure largely occurred because neither Malawi's
political nor economic spheres matured adequately. Colonial
administrators never learned how to match their paltry

resources with their employees' needs and demands.

294

295

Consequently, administration never evolved towards the
desired end of creating a society in which the state could
rule through hegemony rather than coercion. Ultimately,
Zomba desperately tried to create a synthesis by
integrating traditional authorities into the political
sphere.

The reconstruction of "tribal Malawi," however,
involved more than the mere appointment of headmen and
chiefs. It also required the reinvention of traditional
societies, whose ideology was typically incompatible with
the socio-economic consciousness required for the
continuation of primitive accumulation.3 In essence, the
atavistic desires of the colonial regime thwarted the kind
of hegemonic transformation which changed Europe's feudal
kingdoms into nation states.4

Ironically, the state failed to recreate traditional
societies from which it could establish political cadres
willing to impose Zomba's will. Instead, it had to depend
on the accommodations which indigenous inhabitants had
already made with Malawi's exporters to create a political
structure for "traditional” society.s Relying on
authorities drawn from these situations contradicted the
very spirit of indirect rule because it forced Africans to
participate in the new economic order before they could
assume positions in the neo-traditional one. The state
never adequately resolved this problem, and the

administration found it almost impossible to "staff" the

296

neo-traditional tribes, let alone create them.

The failure of neo-traditionalism prevented Zomba from
developing an economic order in which Africans could
acquire the capital needed for primitive accumulation.6 The
state had to fight peasantization as long as it could not
control of the emerging peasant societies, only allowing
peasantization when it was sure that this process would not
create a knlsk class.7 Thwarting indigenous ambitions,
however, led to the emergence of political dissent which
taxed the feeble state beyond its resources and even
unmasked its limited powers of coercion.8

Zomba's inability to maintain consistently high levels
of coercion fatally undermined the territory's capitalist
community. Without recourse to coercion, capitalists had to
rely on cooption, a tricky business at best. Some estate
owners tried to replace the state's police role with their
own para-military cadres, but the resulting repression
caused rebellions which forced the state to dismantle the
planters' repressive structure. The most notable example of
this phenomenon occurred during the Chilembwe Rebellion.
The uprising of the discontented masses on the Bruce
estates led Zomba dismantle traditional patterns of estate
cultivation just as planters experienced an economic
crisis.

This betrayal was just one part of the state's
inability to alienate labor for capitalist activity.
Paradoxically, the administration had made labor alienation

297

imperative because the state's massive alienaton of land in
the 1890s ensured that production would occur on estates,
not on peasant plots.9 But in 1899, 1912, 1919 and 1927,
estate cultivation foundered as labor problems prevented
planters from extracting enough surplus value from their
work force to accumulate capital and maintain production
during global fluctuations in commodity markets.10
The state was not completely useless in this process.
The tax policies encouraged labor, but the state's
administrative ineptitude made the levies only partially
effective. Moreover, tax policy produced fewer workers as
African entrepreneurs found ways to earn money other than
through manual labor.11 Moreover, the administration's
continual restriction of land available for indigenous
habitation stimulated alienation as much as phenomena such
as enclosure did in Europe.12 Indeed, the growth of the tea
industry in southern Malawi stemmed largely from the land
pressure which forced many Lomwe immigrants to work on
large estates.13
Land pressure, however, often forced Malawians to seek
their fortunes working in the region's flourishing mining
economies.14 Indeed, the reliance on land pressure could
not resolve the labor shortages which emerged in the 1920s,
as commodity production required more skilled labor.15 The
planters could not afford to pay trained personnel as much

as the mines did, and capitalists suffered because their

product was badly processed.

298

The failure of primitive accumulation left Malawi at
the mercy of predatory metropolitan corporations. Both the
tobacco and cotton industries became dominated by large
British concerns.16 These organizations, representing
European producers of goods, could afford to pay higher
wages and weather economic storms better because they could
rely on metropolitan financing and depend on capitalist
production in the metropole.17 Thus, in an indirect way the
colonial state established structural dependency by paving
the way for the emergence of enclave economies.

There were exceptions to the multinationals'
dominance, of course. Planters who could develop
metropolitan ties of their own often succeeded even as
their colleagues failed. One need only consider the tale of
Ignacio Conforzi and his ties to Clagett 8 Brachi to see
the value of creating a direct articulation between colony
and metropole. Moreover, cooperation also gave producers,
especially of tea, a fighting chance, especially with tea,
even though the fractionalization of the capitalist class
often made communal effort impossible.

The state's inability to rationalize class positions
made cooperation difficult though, and here lay perhaps the
state's greatest failure in the colonial era. Zomba
originally adopted a liberal attitude which was well suited
for industrial Britain but disastrous for colonial
Malawi's nascent capitalist economy. Even after it

abandoned its rather lsissss I311: attitude, it could not

299

decide what type of production, and hence which class
fraction, was politically desirable. As a result, the state
at least tacitly encouraged a division of classes which
tore apart the economy and prevented cooperative efforts
which may have saved the economy.

The only people who appeared capable of resolving the
uncertainty about what type of production would predominate
were the multinationals' compradores. In both southern and
central Malawi, the British Cotton Growers Association and
Imperial Tobacco effectively limited planters to a
subordinate position as they stimulated peasant
production.18 In both cases, the multinationals also
struggled against the state in order to achieve their goals
and ultimately depended on their rights as property owners
and economic powers to win this conflict.

The dominance of the multinationals showed that
hegemony could be developed in the context of articulation
into the metropolitan economy, most notably through tenant
production. Nor was that hegemony limited to the
multinational enclaves. Throughout Malawi, Africans found
niches in the emerging economy which satisfied some of
their material ambitions.

Understanding how that occurred is a crucial element
in furthering our understanding of the praxis of
colonialism, and Malawian historiography is particularly
encouraging in this regard. Elias Mandala, Landeg White and

Megan Vaughan have made major strides towards understanding

300

how local populations responded to the colonial economy
both structurally and economically.19 White has drawn a
sensitive portrait of how people accommodated themselves to
a changing economy. Mandala has emphasized the subtle and
often overlooked relationship between economy and
environment. And Vaughan has shown us how Africans
responded to crises which beset the economy.

These studies demonstrate that the evolution of
peasant production worked against primitive accumulation as
effectively as state policy did. Prices typically failed to
provide indigenous producers with enough capital to expand
their activities, especially after the initial emergence of
the crop grown. The indigenous community consequently
remained relatively impoverished, and the hegemony
established was at best a short term solution.

Recent studies also show some of the problems
associated with working on the local level. Mandala oftens
insinuates that the state worked for capitalist interests
in their struggle to proletarianize and regiment the Lower
Shire peasants.20 Vaughan leaves us in considerable
confusion about the evolution of the country both before
and after the famine. And finally, White's study often
overlooks the fact that Magomero was part of a larger
polity and economy.

These deficiencies are crucial of course. If
colonialism accomplished nothing else, it defined the

boundaries for Africa's contemporary economic and political

301

frontiers. By emphasizing local studies, historians can
easily generate discrete studies in a structural and
temporal vacuum. That historiographical tendency is
accentuated when we fail to construct syntheses which use a
theoretical perspective to explain the historical evolution
of a colony which inevitably became a nation.21

The second crucial dialectic which this thesis
generates is, therefore, how local situations interacted
with the broader evolution of a region. I have suggested
that by examining the colonial state and its influence on
colonial society, we can provide a framework in which more
specialized analyses can be integrated.22 By structuring
our arguments in this way, we can understand the praxis of
colonialism within a synthesis of the specific and the
general.

One problem with this approach is the pressing
question of London's intentions. Malawi might well have
become an imperial slum because Whitehall wanted its more
profitable neighbors to rely on its labor and sought a
place in which it could subsidize metropolitan industries.
Certainly Sir Harry Johnston, the colony's founder, felt
that the country was best viewed as a source of labor for
the Rand in the Boer War's aftermath. Leroy Vail's work on
Malawi's railroads further suggests that London was more
than content to subsidize English iron-workers at the
23

colony's expense.

In a similar vein, one can also question whether

302

primitive acoumulation was ever practical in a colony as
disparate as Malawi. After all, colonialism created a
political entity which bore little relation to pre-colonial
boundaries, either political or cultural. Transforming
social relations in such a polyglot society was bound to
be difficult and controversial. Nevertheless, failing to do
so undermined the viability of the territory, a goal always
in Zomba's mind.

Moreover, despite the diversity of Malawi's
population, the administration still could have pursued a
number of policies which would have encouraged primitive
accumulation more than Zomba did. Whether or not that goal
was in the official mind of local administrators is exactly
the question which historians need to answer by examining
policy. For by eschewing primitive accumulation,
administrators created dependency and underdevelopment by
default. Deciding to ignore the fundamental socio-economic
transitions necessary for capitalization was a vital
oversight, whether it was by intention or accident.

This perspective is not without peril. As Robert
Collins and Bruce Berman have demonstrated, colonial action
depended as much on individual initiative as on policy.24
One need only recall incidents like the Cholo cattle herds
to recognize that the same held true in Malawi.25
Nevertheless, the state did influence events and guide
activity, even if it did so broadly and often negatively.

By understanding how and why it acted, we can determine how

303

Africa integrated into the expanding world economy.

A vexing problem with this approach is its
Eurocentricism. Aside from emphasizing European
participation in the colonial world, this thesis relies on
concepts derived from European history. Primitive
accumulation, material dialectics and political autonomy
are all part of an intellectual tradition created to
explain the Western world and its historical evolution. As.
such, the appropriateness of applying these ideas to
African contexts is suspect. That suspicion has grown even
stronger as scholars begin to grapple with concepts such as
African gnosis in order to define Africa's intellectual
world as well as its material one.26 Indeed, one need only
think of Marx's grossly inaccurate portrait of Africa to be
reminded of the dangers of using his philosophy in this
context.27

There are compelling reasons for pursuing historical
materialism, though. Marxism's recent emancipation from the
heavy hand of Soviet orthodoxy has generated enormous
theoretical vitality. It is ironic that even as Marxism
apparently fails in much of the old world, Marxist theory
gains greater flexibility. The utility of that revision for
Africanists has already been amply demonstrated in several
studies.28

Perhaps even more important is the fact that

colonialism firmly integrated Africa into a world economy

dominated by Western economies.29 The rise of this world

304

‘economy ensured that Africa's economic systems would have
to compete with Europe's capitalist economies. As the
example of Malawi shows, the failure of primitive
accumulation left Africa at the mercy of capitalized
metropolitan concerns.3o Therefore, examining primitive
accumulation allows us to understand the ways in which
capitalism failed in Africa, releasing us again from the
polemical position that capitalism's success was
responsible for Africa's poverty.31

We should also remember that Africanists embraced
Afrocentric studies because the West's racist attitudes
denied that there was an African past before Europeans
ventured into the "dark continent."32 As African studies
bloomed in the 1950s and 1960s, scholars needed to assert
that Africans' cultural and historical traditions were as
strong and vital as those of other peoples. Historians
consequently sought to avoid Eurocentric paradigms in order
to buttress the validity of Afrocentricism.

In this context, it is hard to perceive why using
Marxist theory as an analytical base contributes to racist
stereotypes which deny Africans either a history or a
culture. Marxist theory seeks to understand the material
transformation of society, especially in terms of the rise
and nature of capitalism. It does not seek to place
cultural elements or historical traditions in a European
mold: instead, it seeks to explain how those traditions

interacted with material conditions to create the socio-

305

economic structures characteristic of various modes of
production. In essence, Marxists are interested in how the
unique traditions of various African peoples contributed to
the creation of new societies as environmental and external
forces tranformed the material world in which those people
lived.

In this study, the colonial state was a principal
participant in such a transformation. Imperialism in Malawi
was the means by which that country, for better or worse,
was tied into the metropolitan and sub-metropolitan
economies of the capitalist world system.33 One of the
ironies of this study is that it demonstrates the crucial
nature of African participation in this process. Effective
articulation in Malawi clearly depended as much on the
ambition and nature of indigenous society as on the
machinations of expatriate administrators.

Indeed, if nothing else, this study escapes the
nagging notion that underdevelopment studies undervalue
Africa's social vitality as much as more overtly racist
theorists do. The perception that Africans knuckled under
to an expanding European economy indicates that Africans
were inert objects who were incapable of responding
adequately to a changing world. Recognizing that the
political institutions generated by Europe's headlong
aggrandizement actually inhibited Africans' ability to
respond shows that Africa's failure in the world economy

was not the result of cultural deficiencies but rather a

306

consequence of having indigenous initiatives thwarted for
the sake of expedient political imperatives.

Ultimately, the praxis of colonialism lies in
understanding the interaction between indigenous society
and expatriate interests. One must analyze critically what
the new elements were in colonial Africa as well as what
indigenous structures and practices were. The colonial
state was obviously the most significant of these elements
because it redefined Africa in a way which still persists.
As we demystify it, we begin to understand the context in
which change occurred in colonial Africa's indigenous

societies and really dig out the roots of rural poverty.

Eflnflglfifi

1. In a sense, this schism replicates the dual economy of
the 1950s, but with an important difference. In this
case, dualism is not a product of primitive Africans
working with sophisticated Europeans, but rather a
result of a conflict between progressive elements,
both European and African, and state sponsored
collaborators. In a sense, one wonders whether dual
economy as it was created was a continuation of the
creation of traditional societies. In other words,
having created political organizations for African
"tribes," did colonial administrations then begin to
search for economic organizations which would be
imposed on ”traditional" to replace other economic
systems which worked against the state. For more on
the dual economy, see W. J. Barber, Ins Essnsmy st

BritishsentralAfrieaiAQaseMQfEeenemie
Delelenmem; in a maelistiesqsieix (Stanford. 1961)-

2. Thomas Gladwin and Ahmad Saidin, filsyss Q: the finite

mm The wholes}: of Nemlenialism (Atlantic
Highlands, 1980).

3. Much work on this topic has followed the publication of

Ranger's Inysntisn st Itsgitisn. See T.O. Ranger and

Eric Hobsbaum. eds. . The Imntien of Tradition
(Cambridge, 1983). For the best example of this topic

307

in Malawian historiography, see Leroy Vail and Landeg
White, 'Tribalism in the Political History of Malawi,"
in Leoy Veil. ed-. The treation.of Tribalism in
Southern.Afrioa (Berkeley. 1989)-

4. This is a process which turned Robert Wiebe's islands
into a continent and Eugen weber's peasants into
Frenchmen, see Robert Wiebe, The.§earoh ts; ths; (New

York. 1967): and Eugen Weber. Beasants.into.£renohmen
(Stanford, 1976). For an analysis of this process with

a theoretical framework more compatable with this
thesis, see Philip Corrigan 8 Derek Sayer, Ins fizsst
Arohi English State.£ormation as.£ultural Resolution
(Oxford, 1985).

5. Woods, "Chiefs and Capitaos...".

6. Accumulating capital being a prerequisite for the
acquisition of free labor. It is worth noting that
there is a distinct difference between this

accumulation and the process of nrimitixs

sssgmulstign. Sara Berry has suggested as much by
pointing out that "the structure of opportunities and

the conditions of access to the means of production
which developed in western Nigeria during and after
colonial rule have affected not only the allocation of
surplus but also the organization of productive
activity." Berry. fathers Hort for Their Sons. 10-
Laird Jones is currently working on a thesis at
Michigan State University which draws out these
distinctions quite well.

7. Mostly because it would be harder to find collaborators
unless peasantization occurred within a context of
traditional authority as occurred in Uganda. For more
on this phemonena, see Edward I. Steinhart, gsntlist

and collaboration (Princeton. 1977)-

8. The assumption being that frustration would eventually
cause the indigenous population to overcome the fear
generated by the conquest state and force a
bureaucratic colonial administration to use coercive
elements it no longer controlled.

9. If for no other reason than there was not room for both
planters and peasants to succeed, as the history of
the southern region shows.

10. Surplus value being defined as Marx uses it. See Marx,

WI 675-6820

11. Through activities like tailoring, beer brewing and
fish selling. Unfortunately, aside from fish

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.

17.

18.

19.

20.

21.

22.

23.

24.

308

producers, we know little about these groups
activities. See McCracken, "Fishing and the Colonial
Economy."

Marx, capital, 885-889.

Although tea producers cooperated better too, see Robin
Palmer, "Working Conditions and Worker Responses on

Nyasaland Tea Estates, 1930-1953,” ignzngl,91_5£rigan
HIEEQIY. 27. 1 (1935)-

Mandala, ERIK sad gsnttsl, 266-267.

Which is one of the reasons bright tobacco failed and
dark leaf replaced it.

Not only the British Cotton Growers Association and
Imperial Tobacco, but the predators who seized control
of the British Central Africa Company in the 1920s.

In other words, their primary profits came not from
Malawi, where the failure of capitalism did not allow
companies to maximize profits, but in the metropole
where the dominance of capitalism did. The
accumulation in Britain naturally was the reason they
could survive disaster in Malawi, a luxury local
producers did not enjoy.

Both by ensuring that planters served them and did not
interfere with their articulation with peasant
planters.

Mandala. Her]: and control: Vaughan. The stoma... and
White. Haoomero

For instance, Mandala, flgtk and gsnttgl, 131-132.

A process whiCh dominates the theme of the country's
standard history, Pachai,nsls11ttt.

Chanock suggested as much when he claimed that
historians need to "reintegrate he divorced categories
of politics and economics and to present a coherent
picture of economic change which fully takes into
account the political context in which it takes
place." See Martin Chanock, ”Notes for an Agricultural

History of Malawi," ants; Attissns, 20 (1973), 28.

Leroy vail, "The Making of an Imperial Slum...”: and
Vail, "Railway Development and Colonial
Underdevelopment...".

Berman. control and crisis: Robert Collins. Shamans in

309

ths grass (New Haven, 1983).

25. See chapter 7 for a description of how local officials
could "interpret" orders to their advantage.

26. V. Y. Mudimbe,1ns,1nysntisn‘st

Afrioai Enosis...
Rhilosoohxl and the order of Knoxledoe (Bloomington.
1988). The importance of this subject was demonstrated

when this book won the 1989 Herskovits Award.

27. See for instance, Karl Marx, ”On Imperialism in India,"

in Robert Co Tucker. ed-. The Emanuele Reader (New
York, 1972).

28. The most notable being Berman, crisis 3nd ggnttsi and
Kitching, glass and Essnsmis change. This potential is
not limited to the colonial period either. For an
interesting and provocative application of Marxism to
pre-colonial Africa, see F. Roy Willis, 5 ststs in tbs
fishing (Bloomington, 1981). The latter is especially
interesting in light of the "increasing anxiety about
and disenchantment with 'modes of production'
analysis," Gavin Kitching, "Suggestions for a Fresh

Start on an Exhausted Debate," ansgisn isnznsi st
Attissn studiss,l9, 1 (1985), 116. This entire volume

of the Qanaoian Jouitnalof ofAfrioan Studies is devoted
to articles in which proponents of the French neo-
Marxist Anthropology school ”recanted” their
theoretical errors. Although it is beyond the scope of
this thesis to thoroughly discuss this mass defection,
I would suggest that it should not lead one to assume
that Marxism is bankrupt as an analytical tool.
Indeed, both Kitching and J. Kimble demonstrate that
"modes of production" are useful as an analytical
tool, not as a typology. See Kitching,
”Suggestions...,' and J. Kimble "A Case for the
Defence." canadian Journal of African Studies. 19. 1
(1985). A second point worth mentioning is that
Marxists, as Kitching suggests, are interested in gns
mode of production, capitalism, and not generating
innumerable permutations of non-capitalist formations.
Indeed, as Willis shows, we can define indigenous
society in Marxist terms without a "typology."
Finally, once one enters the colonial era, as I
suggest below, capitalism is the central feature of
Africa's new economic order, and it cannot be ignored.

29. J. Forbes Munro. Africa and the International Eoonomx
(London, 1976).

30. Or at least their interests like the World Bank or the
International Monetary Fund. For a tragic description
of this control, see Robert Klitgaard, Itssissi

310

one.uanls and

Gangsters; Experience uith
mesoenoe in Deeoest Afrioa (New York. 1990) .
31. For example. Rodney. Boll Europe underdexelooeo Africa-

32. The best example of this kind of racism in Central
Africa involves the continual denial of the
"Africanism" of Great Zimbabwe. For a summary of this
debate, see P.S. Garlake, ”Prehistory and Ideology in
Zimbabwe," in J.D.Y. Peel and T.O. Ranger, eds., East

and Eresont in timbahue (Manchester. 1983) -

33. As Ronald Robinson suggested colonialism did. See
Ronald Robinson, ”Non-European Foundations of European
Imperialism: Sketch for a Theory of Collaboration," in
R. Owen and B. Sutcliffe, eds., fitngiss in ths_1hssty
of Imperialism (London. 1972)-

LIST or REFERENCES

LIST OF REFERENCES

ABQHIYAL_§QHBQE§
Halaui

The bulk of this thesis was researched at the Malawi
National Archives during 1984-1985 and the winter of
1986. During that period, I examined sources from both
official records and historical manuscripts. Since the
files cited are too numerous for inclusion here, I
have listed the series classifications used for this
project:

Historical Manuscripts: .

PO, Wordsworth and Francis Poole Correspondence:

AL, Edward Alston Diaries:

AD, ”Provincial and District Administration,” by Len
Mcdonald.

Official Records:

A, Agricultural Department Files:
B, District Court Records:

COM, Commissions of Inquiry Files:
GOA, Governor's Confidential Files:
L, Legal Department Files:

LAN, Land Department Files:

J, Justice Department Files:

M, Medical Department Files:

N, District and Provincial Aministration Files:
NY, Association Records:

S, Secretariat Files.

Unfortunately, the Malawi Railways Archives were badly
disorganized after they had been moved in the late
1970s or early 19808. Whenever possible, I have tried
to give as full a citation as possible. For this
thesis, most of the material came from files labelled
"Shire Highland Railway".

311

312

I used materials from the following two collections in

this library:
Photographic Collection:
R, Rangeley Papers.

Miscellaneous Files.

Various land deeds organized by box numbers.

0
COY 4, Annual Reports, British Central Africa Company.

WWW
Lilonoue

Lands Register: Various Land Deeds.

Erect—81131110

Like the Malawi Archives, the files I consulted

are too numerous to list specifically. The following
list includes the series from which I cited material
for this project:

F.O. 2, Foreign Office, Africa Corespondence:

F.O. 84, Foreign Office, Slave Trade Correspondence:
F.O. 403, Foreign Office, General Correspondence:
F.O. 881, Foreign Office, Confidential Print:

C.O. 525, Colonial office, Nyasaland Corrspondence:
C.O. 626, Colonial Office, Sessional Papers.

This depository is located in an annex of the Foreign
Office in Westminster and has has evidence from the
following Imperial Commissions of Inquiry:

Evidence of the Hilton-Young Commission, 1928:
Evidence of the Rhodesia-Nyasaland Royal Commission,
1938.

Correspondence of Sir Alfred Sharpe.

CT 1/16/4, Microfilm of Johnston Correspondence,
Central African Archives.

Mss. Afr. s. 228, Rhodes Correspondence:

313

Mss. Afr. s. 747, "Account of the Nyasaland Police
Force during its first twenty years,” by B.G.
Pearson:

Mss. Afr. s. 938, "History of the [Nyasaland] Hut
Tax".

University Archives, File 717, Moir Correspondence.
WWW
Library Archives:

Mss. 7534, Church of Scotland Correspondence:
Mss. 8021, African Lakes Company Correspondence.

 

QBAL.E!IDEH§E

From its inception, this project was designed to be
primarily archival. Nevertheless, I conducted two
different series of interviews during my stay in Malawi.
The first was a series of twenty four interviews with
indigenous inhabitants. Fortunately, I was able to
coordinate these interviews with the Zomba History
Project being supervised by Dr. Kings Phiri, and, with
the assistance of my invaluable research assistant,
Gaudy Maluza, I maximized the effectiveness of these
interviews. Nevertheless, my oral data was not
comprehensive. The second set of oral data consists of
five interviews conducted with various European
inhabitants of Malawi in 1985 and 1986. Like the
indigenous fieldwork, these interviews were never
designed to be exhaustive and aimed to provide
background information for the project. Transcripts of
the indigenous interviews are deposited at the History
Department, Chancellor College, University of Malawi.
Those informants mentioned in the text, the site of the
interview and its date are listed below:

Indigenous

Laiden Chitsulo. Nchema Village, T.A. Chikowi, Zomba
District, July 23 1985.

Laiton Juma. Nchema Village, T.A. Chikowi, Zomba
District, July 23 1985.

Stephen Saidi Kapile, Machirika Village, T.A. Chikowi,
Zomba District, July 1 1985.

Andrew and Michael Likambale, Likambale Village, T.A.
Chikowi, Zomba District, July 4 1985.

Maliro, Panje Village, T.A. Chikowi, Zomba District,

In 111 I. 1.1: I: '1' III. I.

 

 

314

July 4 1985.

Ketulo Master, Litonton Village, T.A. Chikowi, Zomba
District, July 9 1985.

Whiskey Harry Milonde, Milonde Village, T.A. Chikowi,
Zomba District, July 2 1985.

Dunken Mtengule, Gelemu Village, T.A. Chikowi, Zomba
District, July 19 1985.

Edward Sapato, Yavi Village, T.A. Chikowi, Zomba, July
11 1985.

Ndawenga Skamu, Skamu Village, T.A. Chikowi, Zomba
District, July 15 1985.

Exoatriate

Eric and Cynthia Emtage, Newlands Rest Home, Limbe, June
15 1985.

A.F. Stark, Lauderdale Estate, Mlanje, February 28 1986.

Robin Thorneycroft, Chimpeni Estate, Zomba, July 22
1985.

HEHSEAREB§_AED.EEBIQDIQAL§

British.dentral.Afrioa.§arette.1894-1904:

control Afrioon.21anter. 1895-1899:

dentral African Times. 1899 to 1910:

asst AI:1§d.1924 to 1929:

.Life and Fort in.hritish sentral.Afrioa. 1891 to 1896:
Nyasaland sorornment Gazette. 1910-1929:

Exasaland Times. 1910 to 1929-

HEEQBLIEHED_§QHBQE§

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