It is a story that begins laden with high-moral purpose : an ambitious Colonial Office blueprint produced during the second-world war for a new « developmental » empire to complement plans for a fledgling welfare state in Britain. Known as the Colonial Development and Welfare Act (CDAW), this major piece of legislation recognised for the first time that rational development planning and spending required careful preparatory research. As a result, £ 500,000 annually was earmarked for research. Only a small proportion of this went to the social sciences, yet this was enough to provide a major multi-disciplinary research agenda, a large number of research fellowships, all crowned with four high-profile regional research institutes in Africa and the Caribbean. The selection, training, supervision and support of younger scholars at these institutes was a central concern of the new research council, and a concomitant influence on the reproduction and growth of the respective disciplines.

The « problem » focused agenda of the CSSRC still resonates today in the concerns of its successor, the United Kingdom’s ESRC (Economic and Social Research Council), which funds most social science research. In a contemporary academic economy ever more anxious to demonstrate its « national » competitiveness, British Government patronage of social science research remains conditional on the latter making explicit its « relevance » and « application » for users. Rather than presume such an a priori tension between « pure » and « applied » anthropological work during this late-colonial period, I take up the De l’Estoile’s argument that both derive from the same original matrix : « an effort to build a science of social phenomena that could serve as a basis for the resolution of colonial "social problems" » [1]. As he notes, « social anthropology’s strategic importance for the colonial project of social transformation thus appears to have been an essential factor in the autonomisation of the discipline » [2]. In this paper, I explore this unfolding dynamic [3].

This lack of funding for research in the colonies was indicative of the larger context in which the empire was viewed. It began to change in the 1930s, as an increasing number of intellectuals wrote about the « colonial question ». As Hyam comments, « From the 1930s the Colonial Empire gradually began to be seen more as a whole, and as a stage upon which more interventionist and generally applicable policies might be evolved, beginning with Colonial Development and Welfare » [5].

The story begins with a now famous meeting in Whitehall at the Carlton Hotel on 6^th October 1939. The war had just begun. Called by the Secretary of State Malcolm MacDonald, it was attended by a key set of thinkers and writers linked with the Fabians and influential in the colonial reform movement. Present too were the two larger-than-life defenders of British Imperialism, both old (Lord Lugard) and new (Lord Hailey).

The Secretary of State briefed the meeting. Dampening expectations that some major new policy shift was to be announced, instead, he raised three topics for discussion, of which « the policy with regard to land is fundamental to everything else ». As with political development, he pointed out that « we need more knowledge on this subject ». The best way forward, he suggested, would « be a series of local inquiries » rather than a royal commission. Opening the discussions, Lugard and Hailey presented their views. Hailey rather characteristically pointed out that the object of the meeting was « not to decide what policy ought to adopted, but to explore what investigations it might be useful to initiate with a view to arriving at a policy ». The emphasis on careful planning and research was taken up by Margery Perham, who commented that « land could not be studied in isolation. Subjects such as these should be studied in groups », she went on, « and a new technique of study was needed. There might be three or four experts, each knowledgeable in a different subject, investigating the whole range of these subjects cooperatively » [6]. The stress laid on the importance of a multi-disciplinary research model echoed Hailey’s own views in The African Survey [7]. The conversation went on to discuss the economics of this new colonial settlement and the major investment it would need from Britain.

This meeting is mostly remembered for its political ramifications, influencing the shape of the legislation a year later. Yet the priority given to strategic planning and careful research is also telling. Key to the success of this postwar settlement was to be the new science of « national planning », a science described by the Member of Parliament Herbert Morrison in a speech as « constructively revolutionary… a contribution to civilisation as vital and as distinctively British as parliamentary democracy and the rule of law » [8]. This speech was read and discussed with interest in the Colonial Office in the early 1940s, and led to repeated calls for priority-setting in colonial research spending.

What led to this new sense of financial and political largesse by the Imperial power ? A good-sized portion was motivated by self-interest and self-image : the recognition that defending colonialism as a moral project to the Americans during the war might be difficult. As Hyam notes, MacDonald was anxious to make the colonial position in wartime unassailable. It was « essential to get away from the old principle that Colonies can only have what they themselves can afford to pay for’ » [9]. A second factor was the influential Moyne report, compiled on economic and social conditions in the British Caribbean islands after a period of anti-colonial protest that the Colonial Office euphemistically called « disturbances ». Lord Moyne recommended that a « West Indian Welfare Fund » be established to finance colonial development in those particular colonies.

The final piece in this new modernist jigsaw was Lord Hailey’s voluminous African Survey [10], a multi-authored Carnegie-sponsored report into « economic and social conditions in Africa ». A highly influential survey, it became the « Ur text » for British colonial reformers and social scientists. Chilver notes that within weeks of its publication it was « as familiar an object on the desks in the Colonial Office as… the Imperial Calendar » [11], and that « there can have been few books that have exercised such a direct influence on policy ». Key to its significance was its proposal for the wholesale reorganisation of colonial research and enquiry. Together these factors convinced MacDonald of the importance of including a special research fund within the planned Colonial Development and Welfare (CDAW) act. In a hand-written note in the margin of his copy of the official history of Colonial Research [12] Hailey wrote « He and I paid a joint visit to the Chancellor ». The Treasury was clearly amenable, for the new act was passed in July 1940, at one of most difficult moments of the war. It allowed for a spending of 5 million pounds annually for ten years, and more significantly, another £ 500,000 for research each year. It was an impressive sum of money, and the first time that the British Government had seriously funded academic research in its colonial territories.

He was first offered the opportunity to carry out the survey in 1933, but he had no idea that the task was so enormous, and would almost overwhelm him. Its value and its limitation is its rather ponderous compendiousness. It provides what now might be described as a « baseline » survey of colonial and African systems of governance in sub-Saharan Africa. It was written by a team of scholars, including two students of Malinowski, Lucy Mair and Audrey Richards, who were seconded to the Colonial Office during the war, and went on to influential positions within British Anthropology. The report’s emphasis is determinedly administrative, with chapters on « native administration », « the problems of labour » and « African economic development ». In some ways the most influential part of this text was the conclusion. It was here that Hailey recommended a broad programme of « research », a term he carefully gave a wide connotation, describing it as « studies either of an abstract or (to use a convenient term) of a practical nature » [14]. He demonstrated how previous research had been « in response to an unrelated series of demands rather than as the outcome of comprehensive planning », and so made a strong case for « liberal assistance from the British Treasury » [15] for a new fund. His ideas were taken seriously, and plans began to be drawn up for the coordination and funding of research as part of the new Colonial Development and Welfare act.

A month later, another lengthy letter from the Secretary of State suggested an outline committee to Hailey, revealing both in its perceived scientific division of labour, and in the ambiguous status accorded to the social sciences. He proposed a committee of up to 15 scientists with representatives from the Medical Research Council, The Royal College of Physicians, « someone from the Royal Society » and even « a business man connected with one of the big companies, such as Imperial Chemicals ». MacDonald went on to write that « the selection of members to represent the somewhat wide field of sociological research may perhaps be a matter of greater difficulty ». Then things get even more sticky. « One special point on which I shall wish to consult you on your return is whether an anthropologist should be included on the committee. I felt that I shall be pressed later on to include an anthropologist, but I gather that it will be rather difficult to find one who has not his own personal axe to grind, and I am told that in any case anthropologists, as a class, are rather difficult folk to deal with » [17]. Anthropologists’ own self-flattery that they had the willing ear of colonial civil servants was not necessarily accurate ! Indeed, there were strong Colonial Office prejudices about the limited practical utility of « professional » anthropologists [18].

The Secretary of State goes further to suggest that existing scientific advisory committees should be used wherever possible for preliminary examination of the schemes, but recognises that there is « no similar body in existence which could do this preliminary work on schemes of sociological research, and we may have to set up an advisory committee for the express purpose of undertaking this ». Again, this is a moment to express his reservations about these new sciences. « The trouble of course, is that sociological research covers such a very wide and divergent field, and it will be very difficult indeed to get together a really representative and harmonious committee to tackle this work ».

Hailey duly responded to these thoughts. Diplomatically ignoring the implied criticisms of the social sciences, he went on to suggest a further set of academic disciplines that he thought MacDonald’s proposed representatives might not be able to cover. Of these, he felt that Geology and Anthropology particularly deserved particular attention. Agreeing that « it is true that anthropologists are difficult folk to deal with », Hailey pointed out that « there are many people, not themselves professional anthropologists, who will constantly make it their business to remind you, that it is useless to provide for enquiry into the physical sciences, unless you consider also the human elements to which the result of these enquiries must be applied ». He went on to suggest that « some of the colonial governments would feel the committee to be incomplete, unless this side of the enquiry were represented ». In a veiled reference to nascent anti-colonial movements, he noted that both the Gold Coast and Kenya had recently admitted to « grave gaps in their knowledge of the native social organisations with which they have to deal ». However Hailey acknowledged MacDonald’s concern regarding the « limits within which support should be given to anthropological studies by a body such as that which you are establishing ». « Its aim », he went on, « is not primarily to encourage academic study… it is limited to discovering those things which our administration must know if it is to make the best use of its resources for the development of the people in the colonies. In looking for an anthropologist therefore, our main object should be to seek someone whose experiences enable him to help in estimating the social factors which must be taken into account if our technical or administrative agencies for development are to operate with success ».

Hailey’s strategic manipulation of the pure/applied dichotomy is visible during this period, and indeed throughout the history of the CSSRC. Insisting that its focus should be on the social factors to take into account « if our technical or administrative agencies for development are to operate with success », he put forward two « very suitable » names, Edwin Smith (ex-missionary, and one of the founders of what became the IAI (International African Institute) and « Dr Raymond Firth, now secretary of the Royal Anthropological Institute, and he would perhaps be more acceptable to the younger school of anthropologists » [19]. Firth, one of Malinowski’s protégés, published « We, the Tikopia » in 1936. He was shortly to be made Professor of Anthropology at LSE (London School of Economics), and more than anyone else, ensured the institutionalisation of the discipline within British universities over the subsequent two decades.

Despite the fanfare with which the Colonial Development and Welfare act and its research component was launched, very little of the funding was spent in the first years of its existence. Indeed, a month before the act was finally passed in July 1940, it was announced in the House of Commons that it was not felt appropriate to set up the advisory committees in the present circumstances. It was a further two years before the matter was raised again, by the new Secretary of State Lord Cranborne in June 1942. This time a smaller « nucleus committee » of four or five was proposed, again with the emphasis on medicine and agriculture which « between them have more to contribute to the welfare of colonial peoples than most other sciences ». Ironically, given the lack of social science representatives, one of the factors influencing Lord Cranborne’s decision to resurrect the plans were a number of applications from the social sciences for funding. Without quick decisions, he foresaw the « danger that the academic bodies concerned might feel obliged to proceed with their individual plans and that this might lead to uneconomical and inconvenient dispersion of activity in these fields of colonial studies ».

A final committee of seven began their work immediately, holding one meeting a month. Carr-Saunders, Director of the London School of Economics (LSE), represented social sciences. Audrey Richards, a close and influential friend of Lord Hailey, was brought onto the committee a year later, and had a good deal of influence over its subsequent development.

The Secretary of State Lord Cranborne addressed « the committee’s » first meeting. He suggested that the terms of the Act referred to « research and enquiry », and that these terms could be given the widest possible interpretation, covering both pure and applied research, such that the committee’s function in coordinating research was as important as recommending grants for expenditure. Despite his administrative background, Hailey was equally determined that the committee’s goal should be the pursuit of scientific « truth ». As the first annual report notes, « the committee should not confine itself to examining proposals put to it by Colonial Government… it conceives it as its duty to study the whole field of scientific inquiry ; to distinguish the parts of it requiring attention, and to ensure that gaps in it are filled wherever possible to do so » [20]. It goes on to express concern about the « tendency for research problems to be dictated too exclusively by local and temporary interests, without due regard to scientific possibilities ». The comprehensiveness and scope of the committee’s self-appointed remit inevitably echoed the ambitions and interdisciplinary self-confidence of Hailey’s African Survey [21] and Worthington’s « Science in Africa » [22].

Small groups of experts were commissioned during 1943 to review the present state of all the various scientific disciplines. The Colonial Research Committee (CRC) briefed these groups, in particular noting « the inadequacy of the data » from the social sciences and the « difficulties dealing with this subject », partly because « there is no organisation acting for the social sciences ». The « special difficulties » in carrying out such research in the Colonies were seen equally as due to the lack of UK departments « specially responsible for the conduct of detailed investigations », and the non-existence of departments of social studies within colonial institutes of higher education. The suggested solution was to build up an independent academic research capacity within the colonial territories. The issue of « isolation and restricted opportunities for colonial research workers » would also be « greatly mitigated if centres of research and learning could be developed in the colonies themselves » [23]. This would also solve problems of independence and continuity. Up to this point research had often been seen as a luxury by colonial governments, commissioned as and when necessary to solve particular problems. Audrey Richards was one of the keenest exponents of the development of regional research institutes in the colonies, and she joined the committee at this time. The biological and agricultural sciences already had established field-research stations, but for the social sciences the obvious precedent was the Rhodes-Livingstone Institute (RLI) in Northern Rhodesia, an independent foundation created 5 years earlier in 1938 [24]. It had been set up at the instigation of the colony’s Governor, with funding from local mining companies, and a remit to apply anthropology to problems of social change. Makerere (in Kampala, Uganda) and Achimota (in Ghana), which at that point were Government-funded technical colleges, were equally cited as places where research facilities could be built up, to go from being centres of « vocational training » to « real centres of learning in the Colonies ».

At the same time the Committee received a memo from a Cambridge academic proposing the funding of « fellowships for research in the pure biological, anthropological and geological sciences » with « specifically applied research in the fields of medicine, agriculture, veterinary science and economic geology to be excluded ». Such fellows were to be « nominally stationed at Makerere or Achimota » [25]. Given her sympathies, one can detect Richards’ hand at work in this memo. Following the successful precedent set by Rockefeller and the IIALC (International Institute for African Languages and Culture), the idea was well received, and Hailey proposed that the treasury be asked to fund five such fellowships a year for outstanding scholars. Max Marwick and Aidan Southall were the first social anthropologists to receive such fellowships. A lack of « high quality » candidates, partly because of no funding was available for research students, led to a later focus on post-graduate training, and a studentship scheme was established.

The « Colonial Social Research Group » report emphasised the inadequacies and lacunae in extant knowledge [26]. One of its first recommendations was that « the need for social research in the colonies is evident… very few social surveys of general standards of living have been done, and of these hardly any have been in charge of trained investigators. In some colonies no general ethnographic surveys have been made, and there are no descriptive accounts of the chief ethnic groups ». Again, one senses the enormity of the task foreseen, and yet the need for such detail for rational welfare and development planning. This group of « experts » went on to recommend the founding of a Social Research Council. Recognising that « the field of social research is so wide that it cannot easily be covered by any one expert », the Group saw this new council as playing a coordinating role in the expansion of the social sciences. Again, the limiting factor was seen as the shortage of people with « specialised training ». The presumption that « knowledge of a particular language or residence in some particular area is sufficient » qualification for research was gently dismissed. Instead, anthropological expertise and skills in conducting large – scale social surveys were particularly prioritised.

Taking their lead from the Colonial Research Committee, the recommendations went on to focus on employment and training issues, emphasising the shortage of trained staff to carry out the necessary research. Isolation, poor conditions, and short-term funding contracts were all seen as pressing problems. Responding to the question of whether special departments or posts in colonial anthropology be created, the report recommended that the work should fall within the scope of existing departments in UK university, expanding as necessary to cope with increased training demands. Similarly they felt that creating separate « colonial studies » departments was inappropriate as the topic « can only be approached as part of the general study of the field ». Establishing departments of social science at Makerere or Achimota was strongly supported, and seen as an « integral part of future programmes in social research ».

The report of the Social Research group begins ecumenically, admitting that « we have found it impossible to fix any exact boundaries to the field of social research. Because "primitive" and "advanced" communities live "side by side" in the colonial territories research in the social field must be wider in scope than is usual in this country and investigators of more varied types may be required for it ». Caution notwithstanding, this statement goes on to attempt to define anthropology as a broadly inclusive project. Later in the report there is however a steady slippage from Hailey’s call for a multi-disciplinary approach to the narrower concerns of academic anthropology. Noting that « in some cases trained anthropologists have been forced to take up other professions », the authors comment that « it is therefore not surprising that there are now few anthropological field workers with the qualifications necessary to undertake the conduct of one of the large scale ethnographic or general social and economic surveys to which we give priority value ». The report ends unequivocally with the importance of making provision for the expansion of anthropology and sociology departments « if the increased demands for training envisaged » were to be met [27]. At this point only Oxford, Cambridge and London had funded anthropology lectureships. This slippage echoes the tensions between Malinowski’s espousal of « practical anthropology » and the growing influence of the « scientific » academic anthropology advocated by the followers of Radcliffe-Brown. The boundaries of the discipline were still far from settled, and the contest between what we now call « pure » and « applied » versions of anthropology was played out within the council. Such conflicts were key in determining the discipline’s future.

This one document closely determined the evolution of the new Colonial Social Science Research Council (CSSRC) and its history over the next 18 years. Much developed as planned. Formally appointed by legislation the following year, the CSSRC was the first government body to represent, organise and fund social sciences, and played a key role in financing and institutionalising these embryonic disciplines. At the very moment that social anthropology was converting from an informal « band of brothers » into an expanding academic discipline, the CSSRC provided it with financial support and prestige. This was an optimistic time, reflecting the significant influence which LSE anthropologists like Audrey Richards and Raymond Firth had in the making of government policy.

The first formal meeting of the Council was held a month later, with Carr-Saunders of the LSE as Chair, and Raymond Firth (now also an LSE professor) as newly appointed secretary. As he had done the previous month, Carr-Saunders again laid out the extensive work facing the council. This time he also pointed to the lack of an umbrella organisation to represent the social sciences, leading him to call for the « closest liaison » between the disciplines. Procedure was discussed, and it was agreed to not rely upon formal sub-groups of « experts », but rather on each member of the council representing each of the eight disciplines that had originally submitted reports. Firth later produced a discussion document on the council’s general policy, suggesting that « linguistic and socio-economic studies » should be « major aims for systematic research in the first instance, covering successive territories ». Firth suggested that this would provide « basic data for colonial governments and for research in other disciplines », and also rapidly secure « a body of personnel with some knowledge of colonial conditions and local research techniques ». These surveys « would offer opportunity for collaboration among several disciplines (sociology, anthropology, psychology, economics, statistics) ». Where would all this start ? Given the importance of regional concentration, wrote Firth, « Africa would appear to be an obvious first choice » [28].

At this first meeting there was also extensive discussion both of the perceived training and employment for colonial researchers and the relative priorities of the different research fields. Indicative of the discipline’s dominance, the minutes noted that « the council was of the opinion that the programme of anthropological (sic) work was most important, as it formed a basis for so many of the other sciences with which it was necessary that it should be closely associated in field work » [29].

There is little doubt that the members of the CSSRC saw themselves as intellectual pioneers, leading the way both in mapping out uncharted territories of African social research problems, and in trail-blazing the new possibilities for a problem-oriented multi-disciplinary social science. The council met almost monthly, and gradually research priorities began to be established. The first annual report exhaustively lists the series of « major » and « urgent » research needs, including « surveys of social and economic conditions in urban and rural areas », « comparative studies of local government », the « effects of migratory labour », « political development in "plural" communities », not to mention studies of land tenure and colonial administrative law. The council accepted that the « emphasis on the practical applications of research was appropriate » [30].

As the council began to define its work, Firth was asked to circulate an information memo to colonial governments. He listed the council’s primary functions as :

Of these, the heaviest burden on council members was the administration and selection of research grants. The meetings constantly returned to the issue of the shortage of candidates suitable and willing to work in the colonies. For senior scholars, one problem was the difficulty of obtaining leave from Universities. For more junior researchers, the perceived need was for specialist research training – at this time there were no government funds for anthropology research students.

In the very first meeting of the CSSRC, Firth proposed that he do a preliminary investigation of possible researchers, suggesting that this would be more successful if done personally, « rather than by a formal questionnaire ». Council was agreeable, and with no mention of the inevitable disciplinary bias that would be involved, he consulted his colleagues and peers. At the following meeting Firth reported that he had encountered considerable interest, and collected a list of 30 (un-named) possibles, of which six « had expressed willingness to undertake research work under the auspices of the colonial office ». None were considered of high enough calibre to be awarded one of the colonial research fellowships, and he suggested that « they would work best in teams, or under the direction of a senior research worker ». Firth envisaged an « emergency » training programme for this new cadre of young graduates, with metropolitan universities (he named Cambridge, Oxford and London ; and indeed there were only four UK anthropology departments – including both University College (UCL) and LSE in London – in existence until after the war) providing the main source of training, and the regional institutes providing social science research workers with « special knowledge of local conditions ». Recognising the contribution that non-academics and colonial civil servants had made to the discipline, he had another proposal for more senior staff such as administrators or school-masters. These people needed « the improvement of theoretical equipment in a subject in which some previous training has been received, but not up to modern standards or not being adequate for research ». Treading carefully, he proposed that these were to be « specifically termed "refresher courses" to save susceptibilities » [32]. Firth also advocated that the training should encourage « the expansion of knowledge gained in one discipline into a broader social field… The object here should be to weld on to the specialised equipment of the particular research worker a general knowledge of the principles of social and economic structure which will condition so much of the material he will be required to investigate ». Amidst the rhetoric of inter-disciplinarity and team-work, the holistic emphasis on the larger context and structure is undeniably anthropological.

Throughout the 1940s, concern over recruitment and training continued to dominate discussion. As the 1947 CSSRC annual report noted in the gendered language of the time, « the greatest difficulty may be summarised as that of bringing the right man to the right project in the right place at the right time… (but) the chief difficulty is still that of finding the right man ». The same concerns were voiced by the Colonial research council itself, which voiced its concern of the « danger of taking second-rate men because of the shortage of first-rate men », noting that « it would be preferable to let the schemes grow as and when first class workers become available » [33].

There was some dispute in the CSSRC about the need for such formal training schemes, and whether this fitted the Council’s remit. Carr-Saunders expressed the non-anthropologists’ concern about the youth and inexperience of the candidates, such that it « would be quite impossible to allow most of them to go out to the colonies and work independently, even after a period of training » [34]. Firth responded by insisting that it would be strictly short-term, without which it would be « impossible to meet the demands which would be made » for sociological researchers. A compromise was agreed : the scheme would be set up, but that each application would be submitted to the council for consideration of details of pay, leave, length of training etc. Thus in 1947 the Council awarded the first twelve postgraduate studentships. These provided six to twelve months research training, following which students « were required to undertake a specific priority research project of about two year’s duration, in one or other of the Colonial territories ». The training was deliberately not tied to a specific project in advance, for it was recognised that candidates « may yet have no clear ideas of the exact field of research for which their aptitudes fit them, or of the locality or problem to which they would be most attracted » [35]. Amongst the first students were MG Smith, Edwin Ardener, Philip Gardener, John Middleton and Frank Girling, of whom several subsequently made important contributions to social anthropology. The following year the scheme was extended, somewhat controversially, to allow Fulbright scholars and other American students to receive training at British Universities in preparation for « field work in the colonies ». In total twenty-one students received these studentships, and by 1951, the CSSRC annual report showed that the council were much more confident about the recruitment situation, noting that the « field for junior appointments to regional Research Institutes appears to be fairly large ». The council awarded few further research fellowships, and by 1955 had announced that the funds available for individual research were « severely limited », with priority increasingly accorded to the research institutes. Chilver suggested that « it was felt that the discipline had been given a shove », and should now be developing its own resources [36].

The development of the four regional institutes was the second key function of the CSSRC, and over the fifteen years they eventually consumed more than a million pounds of the council’s budget, twice as much as that directed at individual research projects. Even the very first meeting of the council in 1944 focused primarily on Max Gluckman’s plans to expand the Rhodes Livingstone Institute (RLI) in Northern Rhodesia. It differed from the other institutes, in having been set up as an independent social science research institute in 1938 unattached to a university, but its importance lay in the precedent that it set for the council’s own plans for further regional institutes in West and East Africa and the Caribbean. Yet the process of setting up regional centres for social studies was far from straightforward. To whom would they be accountable ? Should they be part of the University colleges, or wholly separate ? Should Colonial Development and Welfare funding go into buildings and infrastructure ? Could « high quality » staff be recruited ? In what follows, I focus particularly on Makerere : plans for the East African Institute for Social Research (EAISR) were the first to develop, and were always the most ambitious of the regional research institutes.

Establishing such an institute at Makerere College meant intervening in the fraught politics of regional colonial policy : this was a university college for the whole of East Africa but located in Uganda, and many were against any attempt at creating an East African federation. There was also institutional politics to attend to. The 1944 Asquith commission on Higher Education had unequivocally recommended the development of such institutes, but had strongly advised against the creation of a « semi-independent » social science unit at Makerere, which might diminish « the authority and prestige of the university » [37]. Audrey Richards, the key council advocate for the institutes, was rather differently minded. After her visit to Uganda in 1944 she made a strong case for « a separate institute, that the staff should be free from routine teaching duties, and that the Director should have power to frame research programmes ». Such dissension from official policy had to be justified, and the council developed the case that the effective teaching of social studies depended first on the accumulation of « a body of knowledge on sociological and kindred matters in East Africa » [38]. Prioritising research was a way to avoid the danger that staff would have to « devote an undue proportion of their time to routine teaching duties », whilst still allowing the eventual aim of merging the institute into the University.

A well-resourced research institute was envisaged, equipped with staff, dwellings and offices. Appropriate candidates for the director were sought out. Raymond Firth recommended William Stanner, an Australian anthropologist who had been a member of Malinowski’s seminar. Strong reservations about Stanner were expressed by the Governor of Uganda. These included the concern that he had no economic training, and that in « view of the recent conversion to Christianity of Africans in Uganda it was also advisable that he should not be a militant rationalist ». He was nevertheless selected, and eventually paid a visit to Makerere in 1948 to report on the progress made with the institute. His feedback made much of the enormous political complexities of the situation, questioning even the wisdom of its implementation. This was exactly what the committee did not want to hear, and there was much discussion of other possible locations, and ways of surmounting the difficulties that Stanner seemed to be presenting. Gluckman was secretly pleased, and wrote in 1948 from Oxford in « semi-confidence » to Clyde Mitchell to say that « Stanner has recommended, we hear, that the Makerere Institute be dropped which leaves us unique » [39]. Stanner eventually resigned in 1949 and was replaced by Audrey Richards, the initial architect of the East African Institute for Social Research (EAISR).

CSSRC funding was divided up in several ways. Grants were given to individuals for a whole variety of research topics, varying within anthropology from studies of African land tenure systems to linguistics, local economies and « traditional » law. Funding for the regional institutes was less tied to particular research projects. Support was also initially given to the International Institute of African Languages and Cultures to continue its extensive research surveys, including the « Handbook of African Languages » and the « Ethnographic Survey of Africa ». Whilst the Institute was entirely separate from the London School of Economics (LSE), Malinowski’s involvement in its founding no doubt contributed to the growing anthropological perception that the CSSRC, given the prominent roles of Firth and Richards, was an LSE affair.

Gluckman had already been frank in his expression of views in another public forum – the Association of Social Anthropologists. In a written response to a memo from Evans-Pritchard proposing this new association in the Spring of 1946, he highlighted the « grave danger that the demands of colonial governments for research workers may lead to an excessive concentration on practical problems, to the detriment of basic research, and to the lowering of professional standards and status which would lose the gains of the last 20 years ». He already knew both of Evans-Pritchard’s long antipathy towards Audrey Richards and suspicion of applied anthropology, both legacies, Goody suggests, of Evans-Pritchard’s animosity with Malinowski [42].

These differences were openly aired in the next meeting of the council, attended by Max Gluckman. In response to the council’s view of the importance of the regional institutes, he argued that this depended on the facilities available, and that at the RLI « there was nothing which could be described as a University atmosphere, and in his opinion the function of a regional institute was to act as an advance base from which to conduct field work rather than as a centre of academic training or excellence ». The chair pointed out that the whole purpose of the scheme was to create « regional universities comparable in standing to Universities at home », whilst Firth accused him of hoping to draw up a plan of local research by « remote control ». Whilst arguing for increased funds for the RLI, Gluckman again insisted on the « intellectual stimulus of the home universities » for writing up [43].

The argument moved on to the relationship of research institutes to « government planning in colonial territories and the problem of applied research to which this gives rise ». Whilst everyone agreed that research institutes should concentrate upon basic research, and « should not obtrude their advice unasked upon territorial governments » ; Gluckman disagreed with the council’s view « that if their assistance was sought in connection with particular investigations… they could contribute much and should be ready to do so ». The issue was left unresolved. Despite the tensions, and the coded reservations expressed by Firth and Richards about Gluckman « overstret-ching himself » in the rapid expansion of the RLI, it was agreed to support the RLI plans. No doubt the argument was partly motivated by the inter-departmental rivalry between Oxford and LSE, but also by fundamentally different attitudes to the role and future possibilities for anthropology in the colonies. In adopting a more avowedly anti-colonial stance, Gluckman perhaps missed the opportunity to open up a higher education institute and encourage independent research capacity during the tensions of the federation.

By the late 1940s relationships between Oxford and LSE as the leading anthropology departments of the day became ever more strained. As well as differing theoretical positions and views on the importance of « applying » social research, the perceived LSE-bias of the CSSRC made many unhappy. Audrey Richards was alert to this possibility, and in 1946 wrote to Firth regarding a query he made about the CSSRC funding an LSE research fellow to work in Jamaica. In an aside, she notes that « so far the very strong representation of the School on the CSSRC and CRC has been defensible in part by the fact that we have been responsible for allocation of large sums to other bodies, but not to our own… (this) might be interpreted as letting ourselves in on the ground floor of West Indies social research » [44]. Firth adds that however much we thought that « we were working in the interests of the profession as a whole, it must have appeared to others that our efforts were too London-based or not strong enough in the face of the other disciplines represented on the council » [45]. In interview, Firth recalled how he had been warned by Audrey’s hint that the preponderance of LSE staff on the council would cause jealousy, and regrets how he had not taken this more seriously. Antipathy towards the LSE was both motivated by memories of Malinowski’s earlier dominance of the profession (and its funding) and by the view of the Oxford camp that the priority was the discipline’s professional status within the academy. The Association of Social Anthropologists of the Commonwealth (ASA), the scholarly association for academic anthropologists, in pointed distinction to the inclusivity of the RAI, was established the same year by Evans-Pritchard (often shortened to EP) in Oxford.

The split was a vituperative one, with Max Gluckman in Oxford writing a stormy letter to Audrey Richards attacking the LSE « mafia ». While he subsequently retracted his outburst, her initial response is fascinating : « Only Max I do hope this is not going to be a personal quarrel. I disagree with some of the Oxford developments but Firth and I have strenuously stood against the idea that there are two camps. We won’t let the students group themselves like this and we lecture on and discuss both Fortes and EP’s material. We certainly kept up our personal relations at the ASA in July. So what is all this talk about "smashing your influence" ? For God’s sake don’t let us become like two sets of psycho-analysts who turn their scientific hypotheses into religious faiths that you must accept or perish and won’t associate with unbelievers. We shall certainly hope that you and some of your exteam will come up to seminars in London, and that any of our East African PhDs will come to Oxford and see you ». She went on, « Perhaps I write with some tone of injury too. I think it is that both EP and Fortes have decided that Council is dominated entirely by the LSE and that they are shut out from it. They admit that they aren’t prepared to go on the council or do the extremely heavy work that we have done these last years (I reckon about 1/3 of my time goes on it in term time). But I don’t think they give credit to the fact that if I hadn’t fought in the Colonial Office for so long there wouldn’t have been any money for anthropology at all. Hence when you make entirely baseless charges I suppose the WORM begins to turn though disclaiming that it has been prodded at all ! Well anyhow, for heavens sake don’t let us fight ! » [46].

The disagreement spilled out in a heated debate in an Association of Social Anthropology (ASA) business meeting in July 1948. Discussed under « Other Business » a stoutly worded resolution was passed that « the present organisation for the expenditures of funds from the Colonial Development and Welfare fund on anthropological research is not in the best interests of anthropology and its application to colonial problems ». The minute continued that « the interests of anthropology should be represented by persons nominated by the Association », and instructing the secretary to write to the Secretary of State to ask him to receive the President of the Association « who would put to him the reasons why the Association had come to these conclusions » [47]. When put to the vote the LSE contingent – Professor Firth, Dr Read, Dr Kaberry and Dr Mair – all abstained, suggesting that the motion was Oxford-led.

Despite the abstentions, a meeting between Secretary of State Creech-Jones and Radcliffe-Brown was sought, and granted the following month. It is indicative of the influence of the discipline’s leading figures at this time that their proposals were treated with such seriousness by the Colonial office. It is hard to imagine such a meeting occurring even ten years later. A lengthy and uncompromising « aide-mémoire » was sent to the Secretary of State regarding the funding of anthropological research. The ASA document made a series of demands, calling first for « a consultative panel consisting of the professors of anthropology of Oxford, Cambridge, the LSE and UCL (University College London) of the London university, which should be consulted with regard to all projects for anthropological research ». It went on to ask that any « research worker financed by the committee on social research should be attached to a university department of anthropology during the period of his training and research ». These demands served to consolidate not only the discipline but also its oldest departments. The final point was the most controversial, claiming an anthropological monopoly over methodological competence in colonial social research [48] :

1. that the person appointed should, before taking up research, have received a thorough training in general social anthropology ;
2. that before being required to devote attention to some particular problem in which knowledge is required for administration purposes, he should be given sufficient time (in most instances a year) to make a general sociological study of the people or area with which he is concerned ».

In the meeting Radcliffe-Brown, as Honorary President, explained that the ASA’s main concern was to have more professional control over funding decisions. The Colonial Office response was surprisingly amenable to several of the ideas, including that of a consultative « subject » panel. It recommended in the first instance that its members should be those of the council with a qualification in anthropology, plus those other professors at Oxford, Cambridge, LSE and UCL not presently on the CSSRC. As a result a Social Anthropology and Sociology sub-committee panel was subsequently set up, with Evans-Pritchard, Hutton and Fortes as additional members. This served as a model for other subject panels, replacing the previous regional committees of the Council. Yet anthropology’s purism over its particular academic approach to colonial research did not go unchallenged. The Colonial Office memo ended strongly, saying that it « cannot accept the suggestion that the majority of the research projects accepted and recommended by the council have in fact been such as can only be effectively carried out by anthropologists », and that the « final recommendations » would rest with the council, and not the consultative panel !

Despite such statements, there is no doubt that these new subject panels signalled the increasing power of British anthropology departments and metropolitan disciplinary agendas over the « colonial social problem » focus of the Council. The huge increase in post-war funding for British higher education assured anthropology the institutional security and confidence of an academic identity, even if colonial office patronage and the training offered by the regional institutes such as the RLI were still key to the reproduction of the discipline.

In the 1950s the work of the Council gradually changed, particularly as colonial governments were increasingly encouraged to organise their own research into local « problems ». CSSRC funding concentrated on the institutes’ own research programmes, and few individual grants were awarded. Yet conflicting interpretations of the Council’s remit continued. The new Anthropology and Sociology sub-committee began to meet in 1949, mostly to discuss applications for research fellowships. The initial chair was Godfrey Thomson, but on his resignation in 1950 Evans-Pritchard became Chairman. Audrey Richards, who was by this time running the East African Institute for Social Research (EAISR) at Makerere, confided her fears about this with Sally Chilver, the CSSRC secretary of the time, writing, « I am depressed because he is dead set against local institutes and has made no secret of that. He will vote and finally win his way of getting large grants to English universities, no questions asked and no results expected and those of us who have tried to play the Colonial Office fair will feel HAD » [49]. Quite apart from the institutional rivalry and Audrey Richard’s sense that « the ordinary rules of fair play don’t work with him », her main concern was with Evans-Pritchard’s dislike of the whole principal of the devolution of research agendas to the regional institutes like the RLI and the EAISR. Evans-Pritchard’s view, echoed by Gluckman, that researchers should return to their « home » universities in the UK for a 6 month break during fieldwork, negated one of the principle rationales for the institutes. The argument not only revealed methodological disagreements, but fundamental political conflicts over disciplinary priorities and what « professionalisation » entailed. Paradoxically, the consolidation of the discipline in UK universities depended on this new generation of scholars receiving CSSRC funding for training and fieldwork.

Subsequent letters between Richards and Chilver hint at continuing tensions in the Council over the huge funding costs of the regional research institutes, especially as the West African Institute became increasingly mired in regional in-fighting. One might argue that the original insistence on strategic and rational development planning increasingly – and perhaps inevitably – became subsumed within conflicting institutional and academic agendas. In one of his oral reports from the Anthropology and Sociology sub-committee he chaired, Evans-Pritchard announced that it had strongly recommended that any savings available should be devoted to « independent schemes of research », in areas outside those covered by the institutes’ activities or the « special interests » they had developed [50]. Even the Chair, the LSE director Carr-Saunders, began to turn against the idea of such institutes, and the view developed that these should be more closely integrated within the new universities. Richards however felt that EAISR could train students far more cheaply than otherwise, and that « all the preliminary negotiations and muddles with governments which most other academic research workers have are avoided because we now have good relations with all three Governments ». In her letters she reflected acutely and wittily on council micro-politics and the likely sources of opposition, one time writing to Chilver that « I have already told Perham that is cheaper to finance an Institute than a Scarborough student (referring to a new set of Government funded studentships), and I hope she is smoking that in her pipe ». Richards had on her side a well-established set of networks in the colonial office, and with Chilver’s help she continued to win financial backing for the institutes.

These rivalries developed a new dimension in the 1950s with Gluckman’s appointment in Manchester and his growing estrangement from Evans-Pritchard. With the research base and fieldwork access through the RLI key to Manchester’s success at attracting new students, he too began to fear for its future funding. « E-P has the will only to exploit the RLI for his students », wrote Gluckman in 1955 to Clyde Mitchell, « and would be pleased if the show broke up and was a failure – since he has publicly stated that research cannot be done well from the Institutes but only from universities. Since in fact the RLI is turning out far better work than Oxford, it would suit him to get a bad Director who would break the show up » [51]. The same year Gluckman accused EP of spreading a rumour that Bill Epstein, one of Gluckman’s students, was a card-carrying communist (and therefore unacceptable as an employee to the RLI trustees).

Whether or not EP was behind such a slander, Gluckman took the matter deadly seriously, writing at great length to the Northern Rhodesian Governor, head of the board of trustees, in order to prevent the rumour being used as a pretext for wresting control of the institute from the anthropological community. His attempt failed. The CSSRC had at the same time been putting pressure on the Institute to develop a closer relationship with the university, and the institute’s trustees used the events as a way of appointing a new director who would be more amenable to government influence at a time of growing political unrest in the territory. Fosbrooke, ex-Government sociologist in Tanzania, was appointed in 1955, to the dismay of Gluckman, Mitchell and others, who recognised that the academic freedom of the institute would be increasingly limited. As Mitchell wrote at the time, « In a real test situation like this the CSSRC is powerless for the simple reason that the Trustees decided that they would not consult the CSSRC – for obvious reasons : they knew it would recommend someone on academic grounds not on extraneous grounds – RLI – Rest in Peace ». Two years later, as Gluckman finally accepted that his influence had waned and that the « RLI is going to become an adjunct to government », he decided to withdraw all support and contact with the institute [52]. By this time he was leading a highly successful and expanding department in Manchester, and many of his students were working on research projects within the UK. Gluckman now had less need of the RLI.

The implications of the decrease in council funds available for individual researchers for anthropology should also be seen in the larger context of higher education expansion in the UK. The Scarborough commission on African and Oriental studies in 1947 had recommended the boosting of research capacity and the expansion of Area Studies departments. At the same time the Clapham commission into social science provision [53] had explicitly recommended that the time was not yet right to constitute a UK-based social science research council, with the money instead being spent on consolidation through earmarked projects and capital grants to institutions. Several new anthropology departments, including Manchester, Durham and Edinburgh were established as a result, along with new lectureships in existing departments. The discipline was institutionally secure as never before. Yet this expansion was not matched by increased funding for students. Once the sixteen recruited onto the colonial studentship scheme had finished, there was suddenly a dearth of postgraduate funding, a problem that was to occupy ASA throughout the 1950s.

This situation exposed anthropology’s reliance on the CSSRC for its students training, and was not resolved until a new Social Science Research Council was finally established in 1965 at the recommendation of the Heyworth commission [54]. Yet this council, mindful of its remit to produce « useful » knowledge, saw its remit exclusively as British-based social science research. Anthropologists’ growing sense of frustration spilt into a submission to the Robbins committee on Higher Education in 1962 on behalf of Sociology and Social Anthropology. Glass and Gluckman described the constant search for grants for young scholars leading to « senior teachers having to spend a large proportion of their time searching, cap in hand for small amounts of money from diverse sources » [55].

Later still, the Social Science Research Council (the CSSRC’s successor) acknowledged this change in disciplinary fortune in 1968, pointing out that the « present situation with regard to field research by professional social anthropologists is a somewhat static one. Indeed, there are indications that there may be a falling off compared with the very rapid expansion of field research in the fifties » [56]. It went on to blame this partly on the ending of CSSRC and Treasury research grants and studentships. The situation was amelioriated in the same year by the SSRC’s own studentship programme, but disciplinary nostalgia proved more difficult to cure.

Instead a significant proportion of the remaining council funding supported the production of regional histories. These included the multiply-authored three-volume history of East Africa under Donald Low’s editorship [59]. The council’s energy was also directed towards incorporating the research institutes more closely with the university colleges. During the same period, a new Applied Research Unit was established at the East African Institute for Social Research, funded by the Ford foundation, reflecting the increasing dominance of American funding and pragmatic policy interests.

Audrey Richards, now back on the council after completing her 5-year appointment at Makerere, received an ominous letter from Arnold Plant, Chairman of the CSSRC, in December 1956. « What I have been trying to decide », he begins, « is whether there is a special case for continuing Treasury finance for Colonial research in this field ». His letter revealed how the council was perceived. « I have been thinking about the special problem of ex-dependencies which are attaining independence. I expect the colonial office and the treasury will be very concerned to avoid involvement in continuing finance, which scientists may wish to see as a corrective to "misinterpretations of nationalism". They may feel that any finance… (is) likely to be misinterpreted as interference if the UK government puts up the money. I am very likely prickly about this, but I know in another field of an attempt to secure Treasury aid which is being deliberately routed through the British Academy in order that any monies given to scientific research purposes will not be traced back to the Treasury with an implication that they are initiated by UK Government interests » [60]. His concern at being viewed as trying to correct « misinterpretations of nationalism » reveals the growing suspicion of colonial-sponsored social research. The possibility of covert indirect funding by and the fear of being accused of political interference are indicative of the mood of the times.

Richards was unwilling to accept the full implications of this new political landscape. In her letters to Plant she once again re-iterated the importance of ensuring the continuity of research in the social sciences, calling for a « rather energetic re-examination of the whole position of colonial research ». Her views on the potentials for research in newly independent state are also deeply revealing. « There are already signs », she wrote in November 1956, « that the new Governments wish to control research in the cultural and historical fields and that they sometimes have objectives beyond those of pure scholarship. Nor are they yet aware of the qualifications need for directors of research schemes. By continuing to make grants for even a skeleton staff of local administration of research, some measure of control of appointments of this sort would remain in the hands of persons academically qualified, whether in this country or overseas, and a tradition of scholarship might be established » [61].

Aware now of the threat to the future of the CSSRC, Richards immediately began mobilising her contacts. One of her main arguments in favour of continued colonial funding of the research institutes was that this would preserve their academic freedom. She wrote to her old friend Andrew Cohen, by now Governor of Uganda, expressing her concern that about the demise of grants to the institutes. « The point is that the social sciences are new in the colonies. They have no government department which understands what they are doing, such as the medical research workers, agriculturalists, etc. have. They are liable to be concerned with questions of social policy which are controversial and which it would be tempting for the governments of newly self-governing territories, such as the Gold Coast, to try to run ». The irony of this statement seems lost on her. Richards goes on to give the example of a Nigerian director « whose motives seem entirely political ». In a separate enclosed informal letter to Cohen, she is even more blunt in her recidivist assessment of post-colonial governance : « the universities want local autonomy over social research and to have this research under their own aegis. This means in effect that they will keep their autonomy but do no research » [62].

Ever-energetic, Richards fired off numerous letters, and began to develop an idea for an organisation to replace the CSSRC. She also lobbied for the CSSRC to take a stronger position against its likely demise, leading to a widely circulated 1961 memo which expressed the council’s great concern at the likely « break » in the field of social science research, and proposing continued support « for UK scientists to undertake research in the social sciences in colonial territories which become independent ». The council firmly recommended its reconstitution as an advisory body to the new Department for Technical Co-operation. The consequences of not doing so included the veiled threat of American and Soviet academic dominance, with « the leading position and international influence of the UK in the study of the social sciences… lost to other countries ». The memo went on to suggest that the institutes would be under heavy pressure to meet research needs « of immediate practical interest » at the expense of dealing with « the fundamental problems of under-developed countries ». This was a paradoxical moment at which to emphasise the institutes’ detachment from their applied roots. Despite the strong words, little came of the proposal, and the council wound up its affairs.

At a general level Stocking is of course right in accepting that « colonialism was a critically important context for the development of anthropology » [66]. Yet this is only the start, rather than the end, of the explanation. Certainly, as he notes, « important groups within the world of colonial administration had shown themselves willing to accept the scientific status and the utilitarian promissory note of social anthropology » [67]. Yet at different moments, the various protagonists played down this possible utility, instead emphasising the importance of fundamental research. Anthropologists were not alone in this regard, for the CSSRC also played on this rhetorical opposition when it suited them. At one moment Richards describes the CSSRC as « do-gooders trying to organise research which would increase the knowledge we felt to be helpful for "welfare and development" ». At the next she emphasises the irrelevance of this work, noting how young anthropologists involved in detailed studies « were learning their jobs… and had not the competence to pronounce on the problems of the colony as a whole » [68]. Goody [69] merely revisits this debate when he challenges Kuklick’s « globalising » critique of prewar British anthropology, and what he calls the presumption that « intellectual traditions are tightly isomorphous with socio-political processes ». His protestations and counter-examples are significant, but remain exceptions to a larger set of political rules. Intellectual traditions are always also institutional and political histories.

What were the long-term consequences of colonial patronage for social anthropology ? Richards suggests that « the suddenness with which considerable funds became available had… dramatic effects which would not have been achieved by a series of small grants » [70]. Anthropology’s presence and status within the universities was immeasurably bolstered by the volume of research funding received from the CSSRC. By 1953 there were 38 teaching positions in social anthropology in the UK [71], an impressive expansion given that up till that moment in 1937 when Oxford was « taken over » [72], social anthropology was synonymous with the LSE. Much of this expansion came through the creation of new departments at SOAS, Manchester and Edinburgh, but it also depended on colonial office funding of doctoral and post-doctoral research. As the Ardeners note, « the "professionalisation" of the discipline for which the prewar generation worked was over-whelmingly realised in the post-war "bulge" » [73]. Important as university posts were, the reproduction and expansion of the discipline depended primarily on finding funding for its students.

Here then lies the theory/practice paradox at the heart of anthropology’s identity. In order to define itself as first and foremost a metropolitan academic discipline, its practitioners sought to construct a « monopoly of competence » [74] over the study of colonial social change. Anthropology’s pre-eminence within the CSSRC relied on its successful practice of reformulating « social problems » as scientific ones. The reproduction of its theoretical credibility and vitality depended on political, financial and epistemological support from colonial authorities for its research agendas and field-workers. Kuper’s assertion that the « winding up of the CSSRC did not have much impact » on anthropology [75] does not fully capture the importance of this symbiosis. The end of empire was also the end of a complex set of political relations linking scholarly practice with the production of knowledge. It created a lacuna that was only partly filled by the later emergence of « development » and its new discourse of social change [76]. In the meantime, by working within the ambit of the CSSRC, anthropologists had developed a « monopoly of competence » within a field of practice that suddenly disappeared. The subsequent identity crisis continues to define the discipline.

CSSRC : Colonial Social Science Research Council.

CRC : Colonial Research Council.

EAISR : East African Institute for Social Research, Makerere University, Kampala, Uganda.

IAI : International African Institute, based in London.

LSE : London School of Economics, University of London.

RLI : Rhodes Livingstone Institute, Northern Rhodesia.

SOAS : School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London.

UCL : University College London, University of London.