Writing on Mozambique, pt. 5: Liberation and Revolution

We discussed in the last couple of pieces how the borders between Mozambique and its neighbours were, sometimes, porous enough for entire communities to cross over. The river Rovuma comprises most of the northern border of Mozambique with what is now Tanzania, and was then Tanganyika, which became a constitutional monarchy in 1961, and fully independent from the British in 1962. Many Mozambican migrants were present in Tanganyika, working on sisal plantations [HW 150]. President Julius Nyerere was committed to African socialism and pan-Africanism, and Tanganyika and later Tanzania thus acted as hosts to the resistance movements of other territories.

There were those rare Mozambicans who were able to go abroad to study (since it was virtually impossible in Mozambique or Portugal for Africans to do so). One of these was Eduardo Mondlane, the son of a Gaza chief from the south, who studied at Witwatersrand (Johannesburg), Lisbon (Portugal), Oberlin (Ohio) and Northwestern (Illinois) [WC 71]. Many gathered in Dar-es-Salaam in Tanzania to form nationalist organizations dedicated to freeing Mozambique from Portuguese rule. (I want to discuss, perhaps in another paper, the development of Mozambican nationalism in theoretical context.)

Nationalism and Leadership

Mozambican migrants in Tanganyika formed dance clubs and funeral associations [HW 150], which eventually led to the formation of MANU, or Mozambique African National Union, in 1961 — which seems to have been modeled after the Tanganyika African National Union (TANU). MANU members mobilized by selling membership cards to Mozambicans, mostly of the Makonde in the Mueda plateau (which was right across the river from Tanganyika). Resentment against the Portuguese was high among the Makonde of Mueda, and was exacerbated by a massacre of demonstrators that took place in 1960.

MANU and other nationalist organizations — União Nacional Democratica de Moçambique (UDENAMO) and União Africana de Moçambique Independente (UNAMI) — were brought together in 1962 to form the Frente de Libertacão de Moçambique, or FRELIMO, with Eduardo Mondlane as president. The pressure to unify came, according to Saul, from young militants with experience of activism within Mozambique, as well as from Nyerere [JS 33]. FRELIMO’s base was still mostly composed of the Makonde of the north, who had signed up under MANU [WC 72]. Indeed, FRELIMO representatives continued to sign up people among the Makonde in Mozambique and of course in Tanzania. The senior leadership, however, was rather heterogeneous (and later accused of dominance by southerners) [WC 71].

FRELIMO decided to launch an armed struggle against the Portuguese, and Eduardo Mondlane and Marcelino dos Santos met with Algerian President Ben Bella [WO 29]. In 1963, about 200 Mozambicans went to receive military training from the Algerians, and came back to train those in Tanzania. Fighting began in 1964, in the northern districts (discussed in the next section).

Bringing together various groups with varying ideologies under one banner meant that, with the exception of liberating Mozambique from colonial rule, there wasn’t necessarily much that united the various factions of FRELIMO. Right from the start, and up to 1969, FRELIMO was marked by internal dissension, expulsions and walkouts:

Over the 1962-69 period the general picture is that middle-educated assimilados predominately from ethnolinguistic groups located in the central and northern districts of the country, primarily Nyanja, Makua-Lomwe, and Makonde, opposed more highly educated mestiços and assimilados largely from ethnolinguistic groups located in the southern districts, especially the Shangana, for positions of authority within the movement. [WC 71]

Opello, Jr. suggests that the struggles that took place in FRELIMO were more a result of elites jockeying for power positions, rather than any actual cultural or ethnic conflict. For instance, in 1962 the president and secretary-general of MANU were expelled from FRELIMO’s central committee. They claimed it was a case of southerners trying to get rid of them because they were northerners. However, there was “no significant exodus” of Makonde rank-and-filers from the movement [WC 72]. Opello, Jr. and Saul describe many more of these conflicts in detail. Saul is much less charitable and far less even-handed than Opello, Jr.:

Fortunately, the most obviously opportunist and irrelevant elements were the ones who split off, reconstituting in the process many of the organizations which had gone to make up FRELIMO, as well as several more. [JS 33].

But Saul’s position is a result of his assessment of ideology as being a very important motivating factor in the splits and disagreements — though, like Opello, Jr., he concludes that the resort to ethnolingual/tribal conflict was a mask on the personal ambitions of these leaders. The groups that split off rarely were more than paper organizations, having little or no roots among Mozambicans as FRELIMO managed to build through its mobilization and armed campaign. So the impression that we can get from someone like Saul is that the left of FRELIMO (Mondlane, dos Santos, etc.) were guided by an abiding ideological commitment, as well as involvement with the masses, whereas those who split off were motivated by personal ambition which coincided with their ideological opportunism. (If you are a socialist, personal ambition cannot be economic; if you are a nationalist who does not want to replace capitalism, then you can be looking out for personal interests within an ideological framework.)

One of the interesting people who shows up here is Lazaro Kavandame, FRELIMO’s provincial secretary for Cabo Delgado. He had a base of support among the Makonde of Cabo Delgado [JS 35], but also support among certain elements of the Tanzanian leadership [WC 76]. In 1968, FRELIMO was to hold its second congress, and Mondlane wanted it to be held inside Mozambique (FRELIMO’s military advances had been rather successful, and they had liberated entire areas from Portuguese occupation), whereas Kavandame wanted it held in Tanzania [WC 76]. It’s interesting to note that Mondlane had more support inside northern Mozambique, and Kavandame more support among certain Tanzanians. The second congress was held inside Mozambique, and Mondlane was re-elected president. Kavandame predictably asserted that this was the dominance of a southerner in a movement where the majority of rank-and-file members were northerners.

It turns out Kavandame was skimming off surpluses of FRELIMO’s commercial structures inside liberated Cabo Delgado, and he was under investigation by the Central Committee [JS 35, WC 76]. In 1969, he was expelled and then defected over to the Portuguese (and one year before he was going to seek presidency of FRELIMO?!). The Portuguese used him, and he encouraged the Makonde to put down their arms and to stop fighting the Portuguese. Few of them did so [WC 77]. Once again, this person purporting to be a leader of a group of people, defending their ethnic/tribal equity within FRELIMO, had virtually no support among those very people [JS 36, WC 77].

A couple of months before Kavandame was expelled, Eduardo Mondlane was assassinated (in February of 1969) by a letter bomb, likely by the Portuguese. Following his death, rather than vice-president Uria Simango taking power, a Presidential Council triumvirate was formed consisting of Simango, dos Santos, and FRELIMO’s military commander (secretary of defense), Samora Machel (appointed to that position in 1966, not without controversy). At this point, Saul [JS 36] and Opello, Jr [WC 78] note, the existence of two distinct factions or “tendencies” became clear — on one side led by Simango, and on the other by dos Santos and Machel. Both accused each other of involvement in Mondlane’s death.

Increasingly marginalized, Simango went public to talk about the “gloomy” state of FRELIMO [JS 39, WC 77]. Saul notes:

[...] Simango’s document publicly revealed the latter’s close identification with each of those reactionary aspects of Mozambican nationalism against which the more progressive tendency of the leadership had set itself. The mobilization of tribal sentiment for factional advantage is one aspect of this. [JS 39-40]

Opello, Jr. confirms Simango’s attempts to portray leadership struggles in terms of “tribalism, regionalism, and racialism [...]” [WC 78]. Nyerere and the Liberation Committee of the Organization of African Unity met with the three leaders to try to reach a reconciliation, but to no avail. Simango was expelled from FRELIMO in November 1969, and when he tried to initiate a rival nationalist organization, he was expelled from Tanzania in 1970. Machel became president, and dos Santos vice-president. [WC 78]

Simango went on to join COREMO (Comité Revolucionàrio de Moçambique), based in Lusaka, Zambia and with a foreign office in Cairo, the only rival group to FRELIMO that actually managed to go beyond being a paper organization [WC 79]. But this group, too, seems to have withered away (to the dustbin of history).

Saul framed much of the leadership struggle in terms of a dichotomy within FRELIMO:

For a movement like FRELIMO is, in reality, two entities for much of the early period of its existence: a convential nationalist movement frustrated in achieving any easy transition to power, and a revolutionary movement struggling to be born. [JS 32]

The leadership struggle, thus,

[...] increasingly pitting those who are and those who are not prepared to make the transition to revolutionary practice against one another. [JS 32]

On one hand, those petty bourgeois nationalists who were looking toward power and privilege positions in an independent Mozambique but not necessarily looking for socioeconomic justice (and indeed, quite perturbed at such an idea), and on the other hand those who were looking for a revolutionary alternative to existing relations.

Indeed, this is how the post-1969 FRELIMO leadership looked at the leadership struggles as well:

The successful elite faction came to believe that FRELIMO had been tolerating two divergent ideologies within itself. One was characterized by the belief in the principles of the popular mobilization of the masses in a prolonged struggle in which victory was assured by history. The other ideology, so they thought, was essentially opposed to the prolonged war strategy and engagement of the popular masses and was associated with the petty bourgeois class represented by the black groups from north and central regions of the country. [WC 80, see also JS 39]

For Saul, the success of the left tendency was the result of, or at least reflected, mass support, the “emergence of a popular base and progressive infrastructure” [JS 45]. His conclusion was based on the fact that, as these struggles among the leadership were going on, the military campaign of FRELIMO was also proceeding apace, liberating and reorganizing Mozambicans within Mozambique itself. Thus, elsewhere, he notes that

Portuguese intransigence meant that a stronger link with the people had to be forged in order to undertake effective guerilla [sic] warfare. [JSS 55]

He notes that when the 1968 congress was held inside Mozambique (and when Kavandame held back his own delegation),

[...] Cabo Delgado was effectively represented by military delegates from that province; no accident, either, that it was the “military,” and not Kavandame, who could claim the effective allegiance of the people in Cabo Delgado [...] [JS 39]

Saul’s idea, thus, is that

[...] as the struggle develops, and in the longer run, the masses themselves come to an ever greater degree to be the arbiters of this conflict; this too is one of the “benefits” of the horrors of guerrilla warfare. [JS 32]

While it might be true that Simango did not have a mass base inside Mozambique the way the army (and therefore the left tendency) did in certain areas, Opello, Jr. notes that it’s also doubtful that he received any kind of support from the Portuguese or other reactionaries [WC 80], and Saul notes that Simango resisted overtures from the Portuguese [JS 41]. Opello, Jr. thus concludes, quite contrarily to Saul, that:

The truth of the matter seems to be that competition within the elite was structured without much direct connection with popular feelings, and each side buttressed their own positions with appeals to one sort of ideology or another, the losing factions normally to ethnolinguistic discrimination, the victorious group to nationalist and class rhetoric. [WC 81]

I don’t exactly know where to square this, though I suspect both are at least partly correct. FRELIMO’s struggle against the Portuguese was not, in any restricted sense, FRELIMO’s alone. As we examine the armed struggle it will become apparent that there could be no success without the support of the local populations. Holding the 1968 congress within Mozambique meant appealing to and relying upon the support of radicalized cadres who were organizing and mobilizing within Cabo Delgado. Moreover, the fact that none of those expelled from FRELIMO could sustain any kind of organization, or, indeed, organize inside Mozambique also meant that their positions were not substantially linked to mass support. One can suspect several reasons for this: the OAU’s Liberation Committee and the Tanzanian government had already recognized FRELIMO, and would not recognize anyone else, and also FRELIMO’s advances were not to be trifled with. It would thus be very difficult to mobilize any kind of international support to develop another front, without just becoming a tool of the Portuguese.

However, it might be a bit of overreach to directly link the leadership struggles per se, as opposed to the fact of FRELIMO’s broader mobilization, to the masses. Nevertheless, it seems that it was precisely those elements of FRELIMO’s leadership who had a base among the masses within Mozambique who carried the day in Tanzania.

Also, Machel was tremendously popular inside Mozambique after independence (in June 1975). In fact, by the time of independence, Robin Wright identifies some of those who had come to dominate FRELIMO’s top leadership: Samora Machel, Marcelino dos Santos, Joaquim Alberto Chissano, Armando Guebuza, Joaquim Carvalho and Jorge Rebelo. I note this because, interestingly enough, with the exception of Machel (who was killed in a plane crash in 1986), all of these people are alive. And what’s more, thirty-three years after independence, all are still active in Frelimo’s leadership. Chissano was president of Mozambique from 1986 to 2005, after which Guebuza became president. Carvalho went to work for the World Bank, and, if it’s the same guy, now heads the state-owned telecom company. Rebelo is still a member of Frelimo’s Central Committee, as is dos Santos, who dutifully keeps calling for a return to socialism.

Armed Struggle …

Armed resistance to Portuguese colonialism was not new in Mozambique [AH 269-270]. What separated the guerrilla offensive launched in 1964 from what came before was the aim of FRELIMO to liberate all of the territory now known as Mozambique, and to rule over it, rather than the resistance being particularized. That is to say, although the armed struggle was localized geographically for obvious reasons (location of bases and troop mobility) it was not localized ideologically. FRELIMO started the resistance from the northern part of the country because its rear bases were located in Tanzania.

There were a whole bunch of reasons why the Mozambicans chose armed struggle. Mozambique’s independence came a whole ten to fifteen years after the majority of African states had achieved independence — Portugal was rather intransigent. We discussed that the Portuguese appropriated most of their surplus from forced labour and from taking commissions from the concessions they had granted to non-Portuguese capital (South African, American, etc.). If they pulled out of Mozambique, leaving the socioeconomic conditions intact, they would no longer be in a position to exploit it. Any black petty bourgeoisie they handed power over to would gravitate not toward Portugal but toward the other neoimperialist powers who were invested greatly in Mozambique.

Moreover, there was a significant number of white settlers in Mozambique, who had their own particular positions and interests in mind. They couldn’t really try and imitate the Unilateral Declaration of Independence (UDI) taken by the white settlers in Southern Rhodesia, what with the army being under control of Lisbon, there was no systematic way the settlers could establish control over Mozambique without the consent of the metropole [RL 42]. (Not that that stopped some whites from trying [JM 7].) Also, Portugal was a fascist state — and who would want to lose out on colonies? Even the anti-fascist (I should say, non-fascist) liberal/conservative elements were not, it seemed, in favour of losing out on empire [JM 5].

And thus, in September 1964, FRELIMO entered into a long and protracted military struggle that ended ten years later. The course of FRELIMO’s military struggle is actually rather exciting. FRELIMO was supported by the Soviet Union, China, and other communist countries, though Henriksen notes that at some point they rejected aid from Cuba and East Germany that had “strings attached” [TH 448]. They also received help from Tanzania and other independent African states, as well as private organizations in the West (the only Western state actively supporting FRELIMO was Sweden) [WO 31].

The guerrillas started fighting in the Mueda plateau in the northeastern province of Cabo Delgado, seeking not only to execute hit-and-run attacks on Portuguese military targets and then retreating into the bush, but also actively sought to liberate and defend areas from Portuguese control [AH 264]. (Depending on where the action was taking place, they would suit their tactics accordingly.) By 1968 (when the second congress was held inside Mozambique), large areas of Cabo Delgado and Niassa — the two northernmost provinces — had been liberated.

The Portuguese were supported quite substantially by the United States, the CIA, and NATO — especially France and West Germany [WO 34]. Included here was military and ‘dual-purpose’ civilian aid — helicopters, planes, naval vessels, etc. and lots and lots of money [RL 44]. Also, there was substantial cooperation with the Rhodesians in the western areas of combat [RL 42]. No doubt they were being egged on by the white South Africans as well [WO 34].

We noted earlier that the Portuguese had started to try and modernize Mozambique, abolishing Indigenato, etc. in response to nationalist movements. In response to the armed struggle, however, the Portuguese started to forcibly resettling villagers into aldeamentos (strategic hamlets) so as to prevent their aiding and abetting the liberation movement [RL 39, WO 31-32]. The aldeamentos were often set up adjacent to a military base or post. This actually proved to be an effective defensive strategy against FRELIMO [WO 32], though predictably this was rather unpopular with the resettled Mozambicans [RL 39].

The other strategy the Portuguese relied upon was recruiting Africans into the Portuguese army, and also trying to stoke ethnic tension. The Makonde and the Nyanja of Cabo Delgado and Niassa mostly supported FRELIMO, with varying degrees of fatigue [WO 35], but the Portuguese largely resettled the Yao and Makwe and also recruited them [WO 32, 34]. FRELIMO stressed national unity. And although by the mid-70s African conscripts made up 60% of the Portuguese army, in 1973 FRELIMO conducted increasing operations in the areas of the Yao and Makwe [RL 39].

Nevertheless, the effectiveness of Portuguese defenses in the northernmost provinces propelled FRELIMO to initiate limited operations in the western province of Tete [WO 32]. Here, the Portuguese were intent on building the Cahora Bassa dam upon the Zambezi river:

[The] Cahora Bassa was the last great colonial project in Africa, [...] designed to export cheap energy [to South Africa] and, above all else, [...] it was an integral part of [the] anti-guerrilla military strategy [...]. [AIS 600]

The dam construction was heavily guarded, and although FRELIMO increased operations in Tete, it was mostly restricted to sabotaging rail lines and derailing trains; and here, too, the colonizers sought to resettle locals into aldeamentos.

In 1969, the Portuguese brought in General Kaulza da Arriaga to face down the increasingly triumphant FRELIMO. (If you’ve seen The Battle of Algiers or Lion of the Desert, this seems to have been some kind of colonial thing to do: Losing the battles? — bring in General X!) He reorganized the Portuguese armed forces and shifted from a quasi-defensive strategy to an offensive one, in the much vaunted Operation Gordian Knot. [WO 32, AH 265] The Portuguese attacked and seized FRELIMO bases directly — this worked for a while, forcing FRELIMO to operate on the basis of smaller units. However, in the long term it proved rather ineffective, with FRELIMO re-consolidating its hold in the northern provinces and, of course, not only opening up a new front in Tete, intensifying the campaign there. [AH 266] By 1972, FRELIMO control in areas of Tete was so secure that ZANU (Zimbabwe African National Union) forces were traveling to the Rhodesian border [RL 39]. Indeed,

[...] while General da Arriaga was continuing to mount large scale, costly but essentially ineffective operations against Frelimo in the far north, the latter was in fact outflanking him to the west. [AH 267]

While the Portuguese jacked up troop levels to 60,000-80,000 [WO 33, RL 41] (against a FRELIMO guerrilla army of 4,000-10,000 [WO 29]), FRELIMO pushed from Tete further to the east and to the south. By mid-1973, FRELIMO had pushed fighting all the way east, very close to the major city of Beira (which is on the eastern coast of Mozambique) [WO 35].

FRELIMO’s support in major Mozambican cities, even where there was no direct FRELIMO organization (or, only clandestine organization) was substantial and increasing in popularity [RL 41-42]. No doubt, at all points, the Portuguese military simply could not be defeated. But also, it became rather evident, that the Portuguese could not expend those kinds of resources in Mozambique when wars were also going on in Angola and Guinneau-Bissau — not to mention tension going on within Portugal itself. It should be noted, and Hastings documents, that the Portuguese military committed several massacres throughout this period to prevent or as a reprisal for support for FRELIMO (in addition to the forced resettlement). This didn’t particularly work:

[FRELIMO's] ability to sustain operations in such parts [of Mozambique] indicates pretty conclusively both the efficiency of its organization and the amount of support it can count on from local people. Without the latter it could not possibly have managed. It appears that this support was more quickly given in the centre and south than in the north. [AH 268]

FRELIMO’s military advances led to the fatigue and disillusionment of Portuguese soliders, unsure of what, exactly, they were fighting for [RL 38, AH 263] — and this led to dramatic events in Portugal, which I will discuss in the next post.

… and Social Revolution

There was a constant danger to FRELIMO operatives from collaborators — many of the régulos and their subordinates did collaborate with the Portuguese secret police (PIDE), though some collaborated with FRELIMO. FRELIMO intimidated and even killed some collaborators [HW 151]. Nevertheless, most of the Makonde supported FRELIMO, not least of all because of the massacre of 1960.

In 1965, many of the settlements of the Makonde in Mueda had to be relocated to safer forested areas off the plateau [HW 152]. FRELIMO appointed often young cadres (supposedly elected) to be in charge, upsetting the authority of the régulos and their subordinates. Moreover, FRELIMO really did seek to re-establish many social relations, of old over young and men over women. In 1967, for instance, FRELIMO formed a female detachment of women who were sent to Tanzania to receive training in rear bases (though they saw combat only in limited circumstances) [HG 183]. This was rather threatening to a lot of people.

FRELIMO also established “(in wartime) substantial networks of schools, health posts and cooperative forms of agriculture and trade” [HW 154]. Cashew nuts, for instance, were taken across the river to Tanzania and sold in local markets, and apparently FRELIMO was in discussions for direct sale to Scandinavian markets [RL 39]. FRELIMO’s activities were seen as the “embryo” of an independent state:

[...] with village political committees, judicial structures, crop growing schemes, People’s Shops, rudimentary education programmes and health services. Across the border in Tanzania, the FRELIMO sanctuary camps operated even more elaborate cooperative systems, furnishing models of collectivized life [...] [TH 444]

Moreover, Saul notes that FRELIMO guerrillas had to be able to go from village to village quietly and with the support of the villagers [JS 27-28]. It was this kind of military-social mobilization that gave the impression that FRELIMO was quite different from most other African, and indeed, Third World liberation movements. Saul considered that peasants held a “passive veto” over the activities of the liberation movement and its leaders, because they would not support a movement that was not providing a qualitative alternative to the exploitation of the colonizer [JSS 55]. FRELIMO had to be not only a military movement, but also a social movement so as to enlist the peasantry in “positive tasks” such as

[...] maintaining the secrecy of FRELIMO activities in the face of colonialist pressure, as carriage of material and supply of produce, as direct enlistment in the army, reconnaissance and militia support work. [JSS 55]

Of course, this sounds a lot like Maoist revolutionary theory, not to mention practice. And Henriksen notes:

During the war, Soviet views on FRELIMO’s theory and practice [...] were considered secondary to those of the Chinese. [TH 443]

Saul’s enthusiasm can barely be contained, and it reflected what seems like a considerable sentiment among several leftists at the time, and so it’s worth quoting at length:

In short, the popular, peasant base of the struggle has become the key both to FRELIMO’s military success and to its own internal clarity as a revolutionary movement. And this, in turn, has encouraged its cadres to return to the people with even more searching solutions for the problems of the peasantry: not merely genuine democratic involvement at village, circle, district and regional levels, but also a comprehensive and practical programme of socio-economic transformation. [JSS 55-56]

While I certainly sympathize with this dialectic between the leadership of FRELIMO and the masses which they were liberating moment to moment, Opello, Jr. makes a point which Saul concedes nearly thirty years later:

Aware that the political structures inside Mozambique had not developed to keep pace with the expansion of the fighting, [the left wing of FRELIMO] realized that the increase in the level of hostilities called for a shift from structures designed for political mobilization to those suitable for combat operations. This required increased centralization which was resisted by men such as Kavandame who were representative of ‘petty bourgeois nationalism’ and acted with considerable autonomy and independence. [WC 80]

It’s interesting that Opello, Jr. is not making value judgments here, but noting this fact, whereas Saul, in 2005, asks if Mondlane’s survival could:

[...] have allowed the military struggle to advance successfully while also to have helped pre-empt the dangers of hierarchy and authoritarianism that the necessary militarisation of the Mozambican struggle seems, in retrospect, to have carried with it? [JOS 309]

and noting that

[...] in retrospect it might be argued that, insofar as Mozambique’s future lay in FRELIMO’s own hands at the moment of independence, the most fundamental flaw in its project, even more fundamental than its weakness in the sphere of economic policy-making, was precisely its weakness in the sphere of democratic theory and practice. [JOS 312]

But back in the 70s, the whole point was that FRELIMO was operating some kind of democratic theory and practice — one premised upon the direct involvement of the masses in the management of their own lives. To some extent, this was actually true during the war years. And it was thought that it was this revolutionary and democratic spirit and practice that FRELIMO would take into the era of independence as events in Portugal — caused directly by the resistance struggle in Mozambique — carried forward the agenda of national liberation.

References

AH: Adrian Hastings. “Some Reflections upon the War in Mozambique.” African Affairs 73, no. 292 (July 1974): 263-276.

TH: Thomas H. Henriksen. “Marxism and Mozambique.” African Affairs 77, no. 309 (October 1978): 441-462.

AIS: Allen Isaacman and Chris Sneddon. “Toward a Social and Environmental History of the Building of Cahora Bassa Dam.” Journal of Southern African Studies 26, no. 4 (December 2000): 597-632.

RL: Richard W. Leonard. “FRELIMO’s Victories in Mozambique.” Issue: A Journal of Opinion 4, no. 2 (Summer 1974): 38-46.

JM: James H. Mittleman. “State Power in Mozambique.” Issue: A Journal of Opinion 8, no. 1 (Spring 1978): 4-11.

WO: Walter C. Opello, Jr. “Guerrilla War in Portuguese Africa: An Assessment of the Balance of Force in Mozambique.” Issue: A Journal of Opinion 4, no. 2 (Summer 1974): 29-37.

WC: Walter C. Opello, Jr. “Pluralism and Elite Conflict in an Independence Movement: FRELIMO in the 1960s.” Journal of Southern African Studies 2, no. 1 (October 1975): 66-82.

JS: John S. Saul. “FRELIMO and the Mozambique Revolution.” Monthly Review 24, no. 10 (March 1973): 22-52.

JSS: John S. Saul. “African Peasants and Revolution.” Review of African Political Economy, no. 1 (November 1974): 41-68.

JOS: John S. Saul. “Eduardo Mondlane & the Rise & Fall of Mozambican Socialism.” Review of African Political Economy 32, no. 104-105 (2005): 309-315.

HW: Harry G. West. “’This Neighbor is Not My Uncle!’: Changing Relations of Power and Authority on the Mueda Plateau.” Journal of Southern African Studies 24, no. 1 (March 1998): 141-160.

HG: Harry G. West. “Girls with Guns: Narrating the Experience of War of FRELIMO’s “Female Detachment”.” Anthropological Quarterly 73, no. 4 (October 2000): 180-194.

  del.icio.us this!

1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    nomes » Writing on Mozambique, pt. 6: Independence said,

    February 15, 2009 @ 3:17 am

    [...] and cheer for Frelimo. [RL 41-42] The alphabet soup of paper organizations that we looked at in the last piece, including COREMO, apparently faded into obscurity — the dustbin of history. Frelimo was very [...]

Comment RSS · TrackBack URI

Say your words