The Weberian State?

The African state is often criticized for being both inept and omi-present. This is an exaggeration of the extremes, but it captures the basic jist of the irony of total dependence on a set of very weak institutions. If I could recommend any book to read for a better understanding of why this is/how this works - it would be Pierre Englebert's Africa: Unity, Sovereignty, and Sorrow (coming out in May of this year). Basically, the African state has exclusive control of legal sovereignty and finds a way to make itself needed in all quotodien interactions. Further more, it entangles members of society into is its web - as they all search out a little piece of the state.

To offer an example:

I had to get two research permits from the Malian government to conduct my research. One as a foreigner to conduct research here and a second to conduct survey research. On the applications for both research permits, I need to put an "official stamp" from the Malian government to certify it. It would be like having to put a post office stamp on an application that I was submitting to for a forestry permit in the US. The stamps are supposedly sold by mayor's office except when we went there, they said they didn't sell them there any more. So after going to a larger government office, we asked a nice police officer where we could find the mystery stamps and he called over the vendor who walks around wearing an array of phone cards and selling cough drops/assorted candies. He pulls some government stamps out of his pockets and sells them for 10 cents over their face - which appears to be a standard transaction. Many questions remain: where did he get the government issued stamps? Is he the exclusive vendor or are there a lot of telephone card guys that have govt stamps to? How does his stamp make my application more official? Could I attach a cough drop wrapper instead?

So, I go to office one and succeed in obtaining permit #1 - which costs me $20 USD. The office is air-conditioned and the guy working the desk is very nice and efficient and turns out to be a Professor who works on education and is excited about brainstorming with me (I am meeting with him later today). So despite the $20 (which equals about 4 days of food from my budget), this was a good interaction.

Then on to permit 2. I am a bit intimidated because I have to submit this one to the department of statistics and they want my methodology, copies of my questions, etc. Some of my questions include: Are their high schools in Bamako where grades on report cards can be altered? Name 5 high schools where this is prevalent. Do you believe that the President and/or any of his staff are involved in corruption? Despite what I know about Mali being a very open society I was still nervous.

I prepared my dossier and we drove downtown to the DNSI office. I inquired outside about where to find the reception and then walked up to the first floor. I opened the door to a small office with about five women and two men. One man was behind a computer and the rest were watching a soccer game and/or sleeping under the mildly air-conditioned breeze. I asked about where I could get file my application for a "stastics visa." They sent me up to the 3rd floor. I walked up the narrow staircase and asked a very competent looking man about the visas, who then informed me that I should go drop it off at reception. I explained I was just at reception and so then he sent me to ask for Mr. Fofana back down at the 1st floor. I went to the first floor knocked on that door and found two secretaries chatting with each other. They explained that Mr. Fofana had left and they didn't know when he would be back. I went back up to the 3rd floor and told my ally that Fofana was out and then he said to go back to reception and ask for Mr. Doumbia. So I go back to reception and ask again about the stastical visa. Mr. Doumbia is now out, but one of the five ladies picks up my appplication and says - oh a stastical visa (I had repeated that about 6 times before she read it on my seat). Sit down she says. Drissa is with me and people soon find out that he is my husband and that I can speak some Bambara so at this point the entire mood of the sleepy air-conditioned office changes and there is much laughter and joking about Drissa's ethnic group and our lack of children. Finally, Mr. Doumbia - the first man I spoke to comes back and then takes my application and tells me to come back in two days. I say great.

I come back on Wed to pick up my application. I am greeted with smiles and laughter. I go to Mr. Fofana's office and he is very kind and explains that my application has been approved, but that there are some mistakes on the approval letter that they have written. I look down on his desk and see my approval letter with a big red circle around Monsieur - where they should have written Madame. He tells me that they are correcting these problems and to come back Thursday.

I return Thursday. Again much laughter and joking -even Mr. Doumbia smiles and greets me with "daughter in law" how are you? He hands me my permit!! And I don't pay a cent! With patience and laughter, most things are possible here. A free research permit with less than a week turnaround - pretty impressive.