Professional Documents
Culture Documents
1931-1941
Author(s): John Higginson
Source: Canadian Journal of African Studies / Revue Canadienne des Études Africaines ,
1988, Vol. 22, No. 2 (1988), pp. 199-223
Published by: Taylor & Francis, Ltd. on behalf of the Canadian Association of African
Studies
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Canadienne des Études Africaines
John Higginson
Resume
Introduction
For more than a generation the social consciousness of African workers has
been a central theme in the historiography of southern Africa (van der Horst
1954; Jones 1953). Richly detailed monographs have reiterated its impor-
tance (Legassick I977; Rennie 1978; van Onselen 1976 and 1978;
Jewsiewicki 1976; Wolpe 1972; Kabuya-Namulemba i974; Jeeves 1985;
Gordon 1977; Alverson 1977; Fetter 1976). However, labor historians of
southern Africa - not unlike their counterparts who study working people
in other parts of the world - have often been hard put to explain the relation-
ship between workers' consciousness and a given strategy of protest. This
article examines this problem through the prism of experience provided by
the African mineworkers of the Union Miniere du Haut-Katanga in Katanga
Province, Belgian Congo (presently Shaba Province, Zaire) from i93I to
1941.1
African workers' strategies of protest are the more readily reconstructed
the more closely their practical context is analyzed. Although we have
learned much more about the plight and aspirations of African workers over
the past twenty years, African labor history still suffers from a divided focus:
Africans are seen as workers but not as colonial subjects or as colonial
subjects but not as workers. This study will demonstrate how detailed
research on specific work sites and colonies can reveal hidden realities that
reside just beneath well-known episodes of protest.
There is a further point to be made about what I call the "volcanic vocab-
ulary" of the human and social sciences and its specific manifestations in
African labor history (Aya 1984, 318-319). Recent scholarship has exposed
the pitfalls of treating African workers as "villagers" and "tribesmen"
dressed up in proletarian drag; other unduly used terms require a similar cri-
tique. "Stablization," "deserter," "disturbance" and other such terms are
widely used as if they are politically innocent and as if they have a determi-
nate meaning apart from the specific historical content research and analy-
sis can give them.
Even the term "worker" must receive a conceptual critique and specific
historical content if fundamental questions about the growth of workers'
consciousness are to be answered. Neither can be accomplished without
bringing to bear an understanding of the economic rationality of the owners
and the context of its exercise. Otherwise, the question becomes, inevitably,
consciousness of what?
Monsieur le Directeur: Many whites are astonished to hear our demands for
better housing and better treatment. They feel that we are asking for too much
- in short, that we desire to live as they do....
Permit me to draw attention to the fact that a small dwelling might have served
our needs in the past since we spent most of our time in the open air or in the
shade of a large tree or lean-to. But now, with new ways of doing things intro-
duced into our country, we can no longer live as we did in the past. We are
obliged to live in houses in which we can entertain our relatives, friends and
other visitors (1934, 3).
The councils should not become stepping stones for "unevolved" natives and
chiefs. For if they do, the recent disturbances will be repeated, but on a larger
scale. Rather the councils should be framed by order and discipline.14
1929 12 351 495 140 000+ (cu) 1 101 600 (w) 17 000 1
800+ (co) 6 552 000 (c)
1930 12 096 778 142 000+ (cu) 1 036 800 (w) 16 000 2
810+ (co) 6 318 000 (c)
1931 3 638 138 120 000 + (cu) 777 600 (w) 12 000 2
300+ (co) 4 665 600 (c)
1932 ? 55 000+ (cu) 324 000 (w) 5 000 1 9
200+ (co) 2 376 000 (c)
1933 ? 65 000+ (cu) 388 800 (w) 6 000 1 58
350+ (co) 2 116 800 (c)
1934 114 000+ (cu) 583 200 (w) 9 000 1 46
200+ (co) 2 138 400 (c)
1935 5 732 688 110 000+ (cu) 648 000 (w) 10 000 1
180+ (co) 2 376 000 (c)
Years of Se
Category 30+ 25-29 20-24 15-19
NOTE: Workers from other provinces of the Belgian Congo are not accounted for in the table. Their total numb
question was about 70.
SOURCE: Archives G6camines A9, SM / MOI, "Instruction de R6f6rence No. 8"; Conseil de Province du Katanga
l'instruction No. 77 / MOI," 126.
the troublesome Kengere work site did little to mitigate the negative effects
of the fluctuation.19 Workers at the reopened tin mines, railway camps, the
uranium mine at Shinkolobowe, and the copper and cobalt mine at Kolwezi
in the far west - in short, all those workers who were directly affected by the
new current of industrial expansion - were the first to react to it.20
Skilled and semi-skilled African workers outside the metallurgical and
machine tool trades were also negatively affected by industrial expansion.
By 1938 many of them had been pushed down into the ranks of the unskilled
workers or out of the mining industry altogether. As early as 1935, for
example, the mining company's central administration concluded that the
criteria for determining whether a given African worker should retain the
designation MOI / S (main-d'oeuvre indigene specialisee) or "skilled
worker" were in need of drastic overhauling.21 Initially, the administration's
review focused on skilled workers at Jadotville's factories and at the Lubum-
bashi foundry in Elisabethville, but its conclusions came to be levelled more
at skilled workers in the building and construction trades on the central and
western work sites.22 As the mining company expanded, these workers
often emerged as leaders and articulators of worker protest. They were also
bent on determining both the physical and moral limits of industrial
growth.
Consider the situation of Kaumba Kalubatini, a carpenter who had been
transferred from Jadotville to the Kikole tin mine in early 1935. Kaumba
assumed that he would resume his duties as a carpenter once he reached
Kikole. Instead, he was assigned to excavation work in the underground gal-
leries. After he pointedly refused to work in the underground galleries, Jean
Schroeven, the work site manager, had Kaumba arrested and sent his person-
nel file to Elisabethville for further instructions:
We are sending you the dossier of worker number 47 / 5236, Kaumba Kaluba-
tini. This worker has been engaged at Jadotville and transferred to Shienzi
(Kikole). He maintains that he is a carpenter. Since the central office has
reduced the number of carpenters, this worker has been sent to the work sites,
where he has refused to work under the pretext that he is a carpenter, and that
he has always been employed as such. He ignores the fact that this specialty is
not mentioned in his contract. I have deposited a complaint about his refusal to
work with the territorial administrator of Luena.23
when it was rumored that the number of African carpenters at Kikole would
be reduced, Schroeven drew up an unsolicited report on the state of skilled
African workers at Kikole and sent it to the central office at Elisabethville.
He closed his report with these remarks: "From what we have heard, the
central office intends to reduce the number of carpenters here by a dozen.
We would like to know if there is another work site where they can be
employed, so that we can send them there beforehand.",24 In its answer to
Schroeven's inquiry, the central office maintained that he had had over two
years to "come up with a solution" to Kikole's labor problems and that in
that time he had failed "miserably."25 The bureaucratic ineptness and cru-
elty that these workers experienced was partially mitigated by the relative
ease with which they could escape it. Very often such workers came and
went as they pleased while working for months at a time under assumed
names or with forged identity and work papers. For example, Lukingama
Kabila and Kasongo Pisa, both masons attached to the construction gang at
Busanga, left their posts at the latter mine and hired on at Kikole in April
1938. Visas and work papers had been forged for the two men by an African
clerk named Manda Enea. When they were finally discovered, the response
of the mining administration to the incident was exceedingly arbitrary.
Although accused of the same infraction, Kasongo was sent back to Busanga
after being "severely reprimanded" while Lukingama was sent to prison.26
for almost a generation (Bustin 1975, 120). In concert with the government,
the big men of the villages launched a coordinated offensive against the
poorer peasantry with the passage of the 1933 Land Act and the introduction
of cash crops such as cotton, rice and sesame.28 By 1938 thousands of subsis-
tence peasants had been removed from the so-called vacant land. Greedy
Lunda aristocrats and well-to-do Luba and Chokwe peasants, on whom the
government had conferred chiefly titles, gobbled up this land and talked
openly of living off the sweat of the basendji or subsistence peasants. Forced
labor increased by forty percent (Bustin 1975, 158-81).29 Starvation increased
as taxes and cash crops forced those peasants who were trapped on the land
to plant food crops in between rows of cotton (Leplae i933).30 Large seg-
ments of Katanga's peasantry became an army of rural laborers in all but
name (Toussaint 1952; Jewsiewicki I977; Velut 1977, 308-309).31
In effect, the Land Act and the transformation of land tenure that flowed
from it amounted to an instance of government initiated land enclosure.
The ethnic and tribal "integrity" of the expropriated land was vital to rural
strong men, since few of them had individual proprietary rights to the land.
Preserving the "Lundaness" or "Chokweness" of a given parcel became a
means to keep potential laborers in one place without the aid of pass laws or
their functional equivalent.32 However, manpower in the rural areas fell by
at least twenty percent toward the end of the 1930s - to the point that the
fund of peasants upon whom the cultivation of cash crops could be foisted
contracted sharply.33 Government reports told of shoots of rice rotting on
inundated land and abandoned fields with the soil already broken for plant-
ing (Rapport de la commission 1952; Jewsiewicki 1976, 83-96).
The impoverishment of the villagers was a direct consequence of the
Land Act. By the end of the 1930s, the annual income of Katanga's peasantry
fell further behind that of the province's industrial workforce. Instead of the
self-sufficient peasant farmer being the measure of the urban worker's stan-
dard of living, just the opposite now obtained (Dupriez 1973, 61-66). In both
the towns and the countryside people now resorted to cultivation more out
of sheer economic necessity and the desire to survive than out of desire to
become self-sufficient.
The Second World War exacerbated the manpower needs of both prosper-
ous peasant farmers, and the Union Mini"re and brought them into competi-
tion with each other. Consequently, poorer peasants and their kin, who had
been forced to hire on with the mining company, acquired some room to
maneuver and to make their expectations known. Under these circum-
stances, popular opposition to the big men of the villages, who were backed
up by the provincial administration and the big cotton refineries, and popu-
lar opposition to the mining company ceased to be mutually exclusive.34
As land enclosure forced thousands of younger male peasants in the
direction of the Union Miniere work sites and its unused land holdings, pro-
test on the work sites themselves began to assume new forms. These new
forms included short-term departmental strikes at Jadotville's and
Elisabethville's factories or the actual absconding of a portion the workforce
from a given work site until management consented to hear their demands.
Absconding workers would often attempt to get local government officials
to intervene on their behalf. Predictably, while waiting out the results of
these efforts, many such workers returned to their home villages. They
discovered that enclosure and compulsory cotton cultivation had driven off
many of their relatives and turned subsistence plots into literal factories in
the field, where the roots of cotton plants which had been planted in May
strangled those of food crops which were planted in December.35 Emile
Toussaint, the Assistant Director of Native Personnel at the Union Miniere,
bore witness to popular discontent in a letter written to the territorial
administrator at Malonga:
Worker number 4592, Ngoi Kimbalanga, worker number 4746, Kawamba
Kalulu, and worker number 4747, Tshantaba Moke, have been found in the vil-
lage of the medallion chief Mafunga. Mafunga has refused to hand these men
over because, according to him, they are tending their families' cotton fields. I
depend upon you to impress upon the latter chief that he is in fact harboring
men who have broken the law.36
The lessons of the mining site and the factory seemed readily applicable to
the countryside. Chiefs and big men were humbled. Poor peasants and their
worker kin reoccupied ancestral land and intervened in local disputes, call-
ing on custom and tradition to defend their actions where the law would
not. And the colonial administration, in the persons of the territorial agents
and European cotton speculators, was made to flee - at least temporarily.
At Kengere, for example, shortly after the June 1938 flight of forty-four
workers, a list of demands and conditions under which the workers would
return to work was presented to the territorial administrator of Musonoi.
Upon receiving the report of the territorial administrator, the camp manager
at Kengere sent a disposition of the incident to the Elisabethville office
along with a partial list showing the length of service, village, chieftaincy,
marital status, and job classification of each of the fleeing workers. The first
part of the camp manager's cover letter read thus:
We have initiated a secret inquiry, as you have asked, and besides the motives
that you are already aware of, it so happens that a number of these workers had
contracted with us in order not to be pressed on to the cotton plantations, and
that they are now in their villages attempting to organize the population to for-
cibly occupy the plantations that the latter are forced to work on. (This has
In addition to the apparent leader of the absconded workers - who, from his
designation, had worked at the Lubumbashi foundry for at least three years
before he was transferred to Jadotville's factory complex - seven more of the
protesters had spent extended periods of time at one of the older southern
work sites, were probably skilled in a non-metallurgical trade, and had been
sent to Kengere because of their involvement in work actions at either
Kipushi or one of the other mines between 193 I and 1937. Moreover, at least
half of the fleeing workers had spent a portion of their length of service in
one of the factories at Jadotville (see Table 3).38 In short, they were far from
the least successful members of the workforce. Becoming rural rebels, there-
fore, was a card that the workers sought to play only after their other options
had been exhausted or were unsuccessful.
So great was the influence of incipient proletarian unrest on the rural
population of the Lualaba district in particular during the Second World War
that the provincial government created a censor and hired a translator, one
Djapao Arthur, to routinely seize and read the correspondence sent by work-
ers and other African townspeople to their rural kin. Ostensibly, the censor
was to check for evidence of mulatto Axis agents sifting into the district
from Angola.39 But by the end of 1940, the censor's efforts were directed
almost exclusively at the local population. Letters were randomly selected,
so the censor had no previous knowledge of their contents. This, of course,
made suspect correspondence appear all the more ominous; for local
officials wondered about how many incriminating letters might have gotten
past the censor given the rather inefficient method of selection.
Only a few of the letters seized yielded anything remotely seditious. On
23 November 1940, however, the censor seized a letter from Mutuka Burton
Fabian, a telephone and telegraph clerk at the Union Miniere's Kolwezi site,
which - in the mind of the censor - bristled with disloyal utterances.
Mutuka addressed the letter to his kinsman Florentin Chemise in the vil-
lage of Saluiji in Malonga territory, even though he had written it for the
benefit of several of his younger relatives. It caught the censor's eye because
Mutuka forged the cancellation date of the postage. The letter's contents
appear to justify the worst fears of the provincial commissioner and secret
police:
Many of the workers here say they will go to Kenya to be soldiers and to make
war with our brothers there. [This was roughly a month and a half before the
TABLE 3
Table 3 continued
Length of
Home Employment Date
Chieftaincy District at UMHK2 Absconded
Vice Governor-General and head of the colonial army Paul Ermens visited
Kenya's governor to discuss the integration of some Congolese units into the
King's African Rifles.] In many towns, in Jadotville and E'ville, men have
already been drafted, particularly clerks, hospital boys, cooks and students. All
the unemployed have been conscripted. Here at Kolwezi all the unemployed
will be drafted.
Listen Florentin, Romain, and Jugi, if you are going to flee, flee now and go far
away. Go far into the bush, where no one can find you. If someone does find
you, give him a sound beating because he has come to take you to the war, and
the war might kill you. For that reason alone you should try to prevent such a
situation.
Listen well now, the soldiers who used to steal our chickens are now going to
die. They have not called me up yet, but when they do I will go. Once there [in
Kenya presumably], however, I will flee with the others. Many of us here at
Kolwezi will be compelled to go, but you down there, flee as soon as you can;
for everybody who reaches the front is going to die. Those young men who hide
themselves quickly and well will not die so soon, but of those who are con-
scripted, both black and white, many will die. This information will not be
disseminated everywhere because of the palavers. You get what I mean?40
There was indeed disloyalty here and disaffection from the policies of the
colonial masters. There was also an undertone of revindication: old scores
would soon be settled; gains were to be made if one was aware of the war's
significance; the most important thing was staying alive so that one might
fight in more meaningful battles of the future.
The whites have been defeated in Europe by blacks from Kenya and America.
Why can't we defeat them here as well? ... We have the right to eat eggs and
own automobiles just like the whites. Let us break into the store and divide up
the stock. It belongs to us anyway since the Union Miniere has bought these
goods with our labor. We will cut down the trees and bridges and thereby keep
the boss from sending us to Kayumbo. Let them send us to Kenya instead, so
that we may kill whites.42
Belgian rule (Shepperson 1970, 145).46 During the 1941 strike at Kikole, for
example, mineworkers talked of commandeering jeeps and joining forces
with "Africans" from America and Kenya. "Discipline," as Auguste Ver-
beken had envisioned it in 1931, was disappearing rapidly on all of the work
sites north of the partially abandoned Star of the Congo mine. Nevertheless,
output and individual productivity actually increased from the end of the
1930s through the Second World War.47
Was there a core of contented workers upon whose backs the burden of
increased output was hoisted? Or were the "disciplined" African worker and
the truculent rebel merely two of several faces of the developing mining pro-
letariat during the era of general business recovery? The preponderance of
evidence points in the latter direction.
At the end of the 1930s, the African workers of the Union Miniere were
able to draw on a rich storehouse of accumulated information about the atti-
tudes of their employer in different phases of the business cycle. This was
largely a result of some success at getting what and where they wanted
within the world of the mining company. As daring as the action of the two
workers who used forged papers to hire on a Kikole must have seemed to the
company administration, for example, it was motivated nonetheless by a
belief that working conditions were better at Kikole than at Busanga. Until
the advent of the war, most African worker protest was geared toward creat-
ing an effective defense against sudden shifts in the company's labor poli-
cies.
By the onset of the war, however, the outlook of many of the workers
changed markedly. Although they believed that the mining company could
accommodate their expectations given the dramatic increases in production
and profits, these workers felt their interests to be largely incompatiable
with those of the company. The material benefits did not come to them; and
the company's policies appeared to be creating permanent insecurity. While
they did not possess a revolutionary consciousness, the workers saw that
the war and the German occupation of Belgium had destroyed the illusions
and social conventions - in short, the culture of deference - associated with
the old order. Also, they discovered agrarian allies who seconded them in
this view. War and military defeat had provoked a confrontation between
workers and owners in Katanga. This confrontation carried with it the dual
crisis of capital accumulation and the social reproduction of the next genera-
tion of workers.
The general strike, therefore, was not a "disturbance," as contemporaries
said. It could not be said that social peace had been effectively established in
Katanga after the cosmetic wage increases of 1938, particularly in the
smaller industrial towns. Nor had the strike "erupted," for it was fairly obvi-
ous that the African workers had only bowed to the combined superior force
of the company and the state in 1931 and, to a lesser extent, in i938 in order
to prevent more bloodshed - not because they had come to accept either's
sense of justice.
The scale of the workplace and its proximity to the company's and pro-
vincial government's administrative center greatly influenced how readily
workers sought to intervene in redressing what they deemed intolerable or
unjust living and working conditions. At work sites where the appearance of
large concentrations of skilled African workers modified the existing chain
of authority, workers quickly learned how to test the validity of the
company's demands against their own expectations. Busanga, Kengere,
Kikole, and Kolwezi were such work sites. It was on these work sites -
peripheral in location but crucial in terms of the company's wartime pro-
duction quotas - that workers made the sharpest break with existing author-
ity.
As Charles Perrings (I979) has reminded us, labor militancy of this kind
often springs directly out of the production process. Yet it does not always
redound in political expressions of burgeoning class conciousness, much
less popular political intervention. Among an aggrieved population, those
most inclined to protest are those who not only have grievances but some
resources and wherewithal to keep such grievances alive long enough for the
authorities either to make reforms and concessions or go to great lengths to
suppress dissent. The African mineworkers of the more remote work sites,
particularly the more skilled and experienced ones, within and without the
machine tool trades, constituted such a population. These workers appeared
to be reasonably sure that they could prevail against the combined strength
of the company and the state - at least more sure than they had been in
1931.
Notes
i. Portions of this paper were derived from a paper I delivered at a conference at the
University of Manchester on "Culture and Consciousness in Southern Africa." I wish
to thank Joye Bowman, Colin Bundy, Barbara and Karen Fields, Jeff Guy, Bogumi
Jewsiewicki, Otto Olsen, Carl Parrini, Terence Ranger, and Jan Vansina for their
insightful comments. The research for the article and the paper was funded by th
Ford and Haynes Foundations.
2. Archives africaines / Bruxelles (henceforth AA), MOI no. 4 (3553) Bourse du Tra-
vail, "Correspondances de Malfeyt," 29 septembre 1913, Bruxelles; AA, MOI no. 59
(3558), "examen psycho-physiologique, " 17 fevrier 1922.
3. National Archives of the United States / Washington (henceforth NAUS), 85 5A.
oo / 7-2345, no. 147, American Consulate General, Leopoldville, Belgian Congo,
Confidential, "Policy of the Belgian Congo Government Towards the Indigenous Pop-
ulation (Deposition of James Morrison of the American Presbyterian Congo Mis-
sion)," i.
4. AA, "examen psycho-physiologique."
5. Archives Gecamines / Lubumbashi (henceforth AG) C8, SM / MOI 1931, "Dos-
sier de la necessit6 d'6tablir aupris des centres industriels une administration directe
et competente" (21 aout 1931: Pusmans); Martin De Ryck Papers: Congo Collection /
Michigan State University (henceforth MRPCC), Secte "Kitawala" (Renseignments
g6n6raux) Dossier de Police au Katanga, Territoire du Kongolo, "Extrait du Dossier
Administratif du nomm6 Kianza Djoni."
6. AA, MOI no. 46 (3551), no. 955e 7 avril 1914, "Correspondence de l'Office du
Vice-Gouvernement General du Katanga."
7. Paradoxically, after 1927 the new array of sanctions and penalties envisioned by
the mining company exceeded the stiff penalties of the decree of 16 March 1922,
which called for the withholding of the third of an African worker's salary for
infractions of discipline and two months imprisonment and a 50 franc fine for the
breaking of a contract. Once the labor shortages of late 1928 began to set in, however,
such penalties became somewhat difficult to effect: see AA, "(Sohier)"; AG, C8 and
DI3, 12 decembre 1928, "Discipline des Travailleurs Noirs."
8. AG, C8, SM / MOI i931, "Kipushi: Notes pour Monsieur le Docteur Mot-
toulle"; AG, C8, MOI, no. 262, Mine Prince Leopold 21 Aout 1931, "A Monsieur le
Commissaire de Police (Kipushi)."
9. AG, "le Comissaire de Police (Kipushi)."
io. In an interview with a former employee of the Union Miniere, Mzee Kitanika
Musuka, the grandfather of Mr. Muyombo Tarsis, I produced a photocopied list of the
"leaders" of the 1931 work action at Kipushi. Mzee Kitanika could only identify two
of the names that I read to him. However, he went on to name a number of men who,
in his estimate, were leaders of the workers. Their names did not even appear on the
list compiled by the police commissioner at the mine. Clearly, a number of those men
who came forth as "leaders" did so in order to limit the scale of repression: interview
with Mzee Kitanika Musuka at Postola, Shaba, Province Zaire, 4 July 1974; see AG,
"le Commissaire de Police (Kipushi)"; AG, C8, Reunion SM / MOI, "Proces Verbal de
la Seance Tenue le 20 octobre 1931 par la Commission Gouvernement-UM."
ii. AG, MOI 9-3-32, "Situation des effectifs au premier mars 1932"; MRPCC,
"Kianza Djoni."
12. MRPCC, "Kianza Djoni."
13. AG, "la Commission Gouvernement-UM."
14. AG, "Une Administration Directe et Competente (Pusmans)."
15. AG, C8, MOI no. 121, 20 aout 1928, Camp L'ishi, "Organisation: Les Belges;"
MRPCC, "Kianza Djoni."
16. AG, "la Commission Gouvernement-UM"; Rapport sur l'Administration du
Congo Belge, 1932, "situation economique," 234.
17. Tanganyika Concessions / Union Miniere: London (henceforth TC / UM) 98,
Usines de Lubumbashi: rapport mensuel, "Fourniture d'energie aux sieges de Ruashi
et Prince L6opold, fevrier 1929; AG, A9 no. 508 / D-4o, Lubumbashi, juin 1935,
"Bareme de salaires."
18. AG, D6, no. 609 / E'ville / 15 juillet 1936 (Mottoulle), "Pecheries du chef
Kibanda (Lubende)"; AG, D8, no. 461 / d-6, 25-5-36, E'ville, "Pointage: 6tablissement
des feuilles de paie."
19. AG, B22 Division A: Service d'inspection et de contr6le, 27-9-39, "Salaires."
20. AG, B22, no. 1167 / d6, 8-9-37, "Transfert des travailleurs de Shinkolobwe
Panda."
21. AG, B22, Division A, no. 136, Jadotville, 9 novembre 1935, "Salaires de MOI /
S."
22. AG, BI2, dossier no. 72, UMHK / D6partement MOI-Elisabethville, Busanga, le
19 mars 1936, (Confidentielle) "Proteste de surmenage."
23. AG, D6, no. i, i dossier MOI, Camp de Kikole, 7-5-36, "Correspondence
(Schroeven)."
24. AG, "(Schroeven)."
25. AG, "(Schroeven)."
26. AG, D6, no. 2.549c, Kikole, 8-6-38, "Travailleur no. K659 et Travailleur no.
K658.
27. Conseil de Province: Katanga, 1946-47, 235-245.
28. The Land Act was known as the paysannat indigene: see Bulletin agricole du
Congo belge, 1932-1937; AG, B6, SM / MOI, "Statistiques (1928-1932)."
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