The Anti-Politics Machine: 'Development', Depoliticization and Bureaucratic Power in Lesotho

by James Ferguson

A case study of development in the Thaba-Tseka district of Lesotho during the period 1975 to 1984, which looks at the workings of the development industry in the country, and in particular at one development project.

Genres: Anthropology, Politics, Nonfiction, Africa, Economics, History, Academic

336 pages, Hardcover

First published June 14, 1990

About the author

Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name. This is James^^^Ferguson.

James Ferguson was an American anthropologist. He is known for his work on the politics and anthropology of international development, specifically his critical stance (development criticism). He was chair of the Anthropology Department at Stanford University. His best-known work is his book, The Anti-Politics Machine. He delivered the most prestigious lecture in anthropology, the Morgan Lecture, in 2009, for his work on basic income.
Ferguson earned his B.A. in cultural anthropology from the University of California, Santa Barbara and an M.A. and Ph.D. in social anthropology from Harvard University.

Reviews

[Brandon Wu · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an utterly fantastic anthropological work exposing how the discourse of "development" turns questions of poverty that are fundamentally about politics and power structures into mere technical problems that can be solved with apolitical aid solutions. Written five years before Escobar's equally cogent critique of development as discourse, Ferguson's book focuses on his fieldwork in Lesotho as a concrete example. Some of Ferguson's research on why "development" failed to solve poverty-related issues in Lesotho are truly fascinating, especially his extensive work on why the creation of a livestock market failed to have its expected impacts. But the real gem is the ten-page epilogue, in which Ferguson sets forth an incredibly concise, compelling argument about how people truly interested in ameliorating poverty around the world are better off working with social movements or organizations that truly challenge structures of power, rather than working inside "development" institutions which represent very different interests.

[Nithya · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ferguson describes this book as “not principally a book about the Basotho people, or even about Lesotho; it is principally a book about the operation of the “international development” apparatus in a particular setting.” His book is about the complex relation between the intentionality of planning in a development project in Lesotho and the strategic intelligibility of its outcomes, which turn out to be unintended, but instrumental in expanding state power and, at the same time, depoliticizing the power.

Against the backdrop of the swarm of development agencies in Lesotho, Africa, he employs a Foucauldian notion of discourse being a practice (to engage in a discourse is to do something). In a fascinating analysis, he shows how World Bank’s country report on Lesotho summarily labels Lesotho as a subsistence-based economy with high population growth untouched by capitalism. Ferguson argues that Lesotho was, in fact, affected by capitalism as early at 1910, that the World Bank is not just wrong, but systematically wrong in its portrayal of Lesotho. He describes the case of the World-bank funded Thaba-Tseka project (1975-84), which was originally designed to convert mountainous regions into commercial livestock ranges by providing road connections and low-cost production techniques. He then details why the project failed to live up to its original goals.

To do so, Ferguson traverses back and forth between discourse analysis of development and ethnographic field work in his method. Such a lens provides an understanding of the reconfigurations, causalities, and particularities of each other. Furthermore, it helps me understand the processes, practices and phenomena as occurring within a larger context of discourse production, rather than appearing to act in isolation.

He could have provided a less personal epilogue, though, which is rather disappointing in highly impressive book.

A must for anyone engaging with development.

[Dylan Groves]

Case study of 70-80's livestock improvement scheme in Lesotho.

The big anthropology critiques of development are well trodden and contestable. The beauty of this book is (1) how well it nails the details (the nuances of failed livestock, decentralization, and integrated rural development schemes), (2) how clear and accessible it is, (3) how seamlessly it relates theoretical arguments to concrete project developments.

Three takeaways:

1 - The principal effect of development projects is the (depoliticized extension) of state bureaucratic power rather than improvements in economic growth or human well being. Power here defined not as dudes with guns but as the routing of social relations through the state (go to the agriculture extension office to get a permit to give cows as a funeral gift. etc)

2 - Unwiliingness to sell cattle (the "Bovine Mystique") is best understood as a social rule (rather than a part of a pre-capitalist economy or conforming to some hidden rational-self interest) that is embedded in specific power relationships - a way for men to preserve retirement savings from their wives (cattle is property of men while cash is shared in the household), old to generate income from young (bride payments are a huge form of redistribution to the elderly and only work if money is primarily held in publicly visible form ie cows), and for powerful to preserve their social status (loaning cows to poorer community members is a preeminent marker of status)

Social relations (ie Men/Women) ---> Social Rules (ie "Bovine Mystique") ----> Otherwise puzzling individual actions (ie failure to sell cows during drought)

3 - The big danger of development projects is less that they act on developing countries as subjects on objects and more that they fail to recognize that development projects themselves are objects being acted on by political machinery at both national and international levels.

[Wim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Probably one of the most important and refreshing books on development. Published more than 20 years ago, but still amazingly relevant.

Through the extreme case of Lesotho, James Ferguson gives a powerful analysis of how development aid is disconnected from local realities, how it is instrumentalized by politics, and why a technical "neutral" approach is used to justify political agendas that do not improve living conditions for the poor.

Even though the author is just an observer, unwilling to advice development projects on how to do better (because that is part of the problem), he advocates for a political empowerment at grassroot level as the only way out of extreme poverty. I cannot agree more on that!

[Lucy]

I enjoyed this one very much. Compared to other things I've been reading it is written clearly and with a little bit of fun. Wry sarcasm but especially in the epilogue he is also very earnest. Still extremely relevant critique and arguments despite the passage of 30 years.

[Tyler · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent book on the problems with development projects, especially why they always seem to fail when they, assumingly, set out to do good. Especially potent for anyone thinking about working with the World Bank or the Peace Corps: the book does not necessarily condemn these development organizations totally: in fact Ferguson points out that the people on the ground, the volunteers, etc., are actually in many ways trying to make a difference. Yet, the structure and mechanisms of the projects and the multi-national organizations create a situation where what is intended to get done is not always what actually is accomplished...and the intended effects are not what's important, but the "instrument effects", following Foucault.
A must read for anyone planning on going into work with any development organization, or anyone interested in pursuing economic, political, or development anthropology, especially in Africa.

[Veena · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is one of the first texts I read in my introductory international development course. It immediately demonstrated the value and central nature of participatory development work... in a nutshell, help is only helpful if it means something to those you are trying to help. James Ferguson's study of this failed attempt to support a community in Lesotho shows the perils of assuming that aid organizations know best simply because they have funding and external knowledge. He shows the value and importance of local knowledge and working in partnership versus coming into a community and imposing ones' values and judgments about how things should work to make things more "successful" and "productive." A book that is unfortunately timeless because this same tale can be seen playing out all over the world today.

[Igor Zurimendi · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent

I almost stopped reading early on because of references to neo-Marxism and Foucault - but extremely happy I didn't. leaving aside the heavy academese in a couple of chapters, it's insightful and engagingly written.

[Thomas · Rating 5 out of 5]

the chapter where he takes apart the World Bank report is so funny. It should be titled, " Are you morons kidding me?!!!?"
Also the part where he talks with Basotho men about cattle is great too.

[omz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ferguson is well-informed, analytical, and articulate. He doesn't make sweeping accusations of government conspiracy, but paints a clear portrait of how the political, economic and personal interests of individuals rub up against one another.

He especially critiques the development industry in Lesotho, arguing that it distorts reality through manipulated rhetoric, geographies and statistics to present the nation as an LDC (Least Developed Country) in order to access large sums of money as aid. Notably, Lesotho was mischaracterized on a prominent World Bank report as an agricultural economy, when it is in fact an importer; it’s status as an exporter of labour was misrepresented as a new and debilitating social change, when it has been a legitimate industry for centuries; it was termed “untouched by modern economic development” when it has been “radically and completely transformed” by it since 1910 (29). It is this inaccurate rhetoric that helps categorise Lesotho as a typical LDC, funnel “a disproportionate volume of aid” to it (19), and sustain the development regime. Moreover, this has resulted in failed interventions like the “farm to market” scheme, which mischaracterized Lesotho as the farm, when it is the market. Hence building roads only makes imported food cheaper, hampering the competitive ability of local farmers even more (46). Ferguson also discusses the two distinct meanings of development — as transition to modern, capitalist industrial economies; and an increased standard of living — and how they are often incorrectly conflated by the development industry. This implication frames a Westernised modernization as the only way to improve one’s quality of life, which is a harmful and untrue construct.

Ferguson critically focuses on the Thaba-Tseka project’s efforts to depoliticise its program and limit itself to technical solutions, despite facing what clearly were socio-political problems. The project, regardless of these efforts, was thoroughly hampered and transformed by then local and national politics of Lesotho.

Ferguson details these technical solutions (range management; livestock marketing; improved stock and fodder production; decentralisation) and explains why they weren’t effective. The project further involved power struggles amongst stakeholders, as their individual political interests clashed. Decentralisation of power from Maseru to the district, was one of these contested subjects. The new District Coordinator in 1980, for instance seeked to establish political control by isolating and alienating the program from the broader state apparatus. Ferguson refers to the entrenched and depoliticised concept of ‘govermentality’ within development, which understands the state apparatus as “a neutral instrument for implementing plans' (127)'. As the developers within the Thaba–Tseka project learned, the social and economic transformations brought about by development plans involve a massive amount of political changemaking and hence political obstruction.

I thought Ferguson communicated the ridiculousness of the development industry in interesting visual ways, such as in the first chapter where he lists the many countries and agencies providing aid, in a manner that takes up a great amount of vertical space. His critique of analysing Lesotho through a national economy lens, when it is integrated into the regional economy, was especially compelling, as this viewpoint successfully recreates colonial ‘divide and conquer’ tropes. Ferguson also demonstrated why young women supported the liquidation of assets — family relations formed by the gendered divisions of labour and illegality of female labour export — intriguing. This finding was especially interesting as this is not the norm in other cultures that involve gendered divisions of labour. Young women in many conservative South Asian cultures for example tend to purchase and save precious jewellery (which acts as stored wealth to be liquidated in an emergency.).

[Sammi Dé · Rating 5 out of 5]

A very enjoyable and refreshing book that is so much more than an anthropological investigation of a 'development' scheme in Lesotho.

Using his highly detailed investigation of the Thaba-Tseka project as his foundation, Ferguson employs Foucault's idea of discourse-as-practice to demonstrate how the discursive regime of the "development" apparatus tends to reduce its sites to an undifferentiated mass with common, context-independent characteristics: 'LDC', 'aboriginal', 'peasant', 'isolated' etc. In doing so, development becomes a process of applying packaged, 'technical' fixes to 'object' sites, with little regard for the structural, historical, or political causes of poverty (which would require much more localised analysis, and are also considered 'unsolvable' from the perspective of the external intervener). Through elaborate investigations into the 'on-the-ground realities' of Thaba-Tseka, he demonstrates how such misrepresentations have material effects when employed in practice (ie. the Bovine Mystique: misinterpretation of livestock-holding practices as "traditional" and consequent deployment of a livestock commercialisation project as per modernisation dogma, which were in reality deeply embedded in the 'modern' migrant labour economy and village-level social relations). Such violent "theoretical rearrangements", he argues, should not be seen as accidental: they persist because they are necessary for the production of prospective sites for ('big D') “development” interventions- the development institution, holding exclusive "development expertise", cannot reproduce itself without such homogenising “packaged” practices.

Most significant is his broader conceptualisation of this "development" apparatus as an "anti-politics machine". In presenting 'technical' solutions to the suffering of oppressed people (via the aforementioned “theoretical rearrangements” of development sites), questions of poverty are depoliticised; further, in making such solutions highly visible and thus appearing more 'neutral', development projects can be a gateway for political operations of expanding institutional state power under the guise of a 'technical' mission (Foucault's governmentality). These practices give rise to two key 'instrument-effects': the expansion of bureaucratic state power (etatisation), and the ideological depoliticisation of both poverty and the state. In the Lesotho context, such ‘etatisation’ is problematised through an investigation into the undemocratic origins of the ruling party and how “development” schemes function as propaganda (thus, from the perspective of villagers, resistance to “development” projects is a significant form of political expression/resistance).

In the epilogue he thus proposes that "development" practice ought no longer to be uncritically conflated with states and international agencies: "identifying government intervention with progress and reform is likely to facilitate the dismissal or even suppression of the often oppositional forms of action initiated by those identified as requiring the intervention". In tackling the question 'What should we do?' he envisions a future where development practitioners, and those concerned with the amelioration of concrete realities in the ‘developing world’ seek answers to specific, localised, tactical questions; engage and form institutional linkages with non-state forces and organisations that challenge the dominant order- "counter-hegemonic alternative points of engagement" which may involve labour unions, oppositional political parties and movements, cooperatives, peasants unions; and more largely, "identify [and work with] interests, organisations and groupings that clearly represent movements of empowerment".

A foundational book, ahead of its time in its investigations of the true nature and purpose of the "development" apparatus and who it serves. This should be required reading for any development studies course, I'm frustrated to have only found it two years into my degree.

[KT · Rating 5 out of 5]

The author, drawing parallels to the term "civilisation" as used in the 19th century, defines "developement" as not only the name for a value, but also for a dominant problematic or interpretive grid through which the impoverished regions of the world are known to us, within which, a host of everyday observations are rendered intelligible and meaningful.

In summary, the author convincingly and systematically argues "development" institutions generate their own form of discourse, and this discourse simultaneously constructs poor countries, such as Lesotho, as a particular kind of object of knowledge, and creates a structure of knowledge around that object. Interventions are then organised on the basis of this structure of knowledge, which, while "failing" on their own terms, nonetheless have regular effects, which include the expansion and entrenchment of bureaucratic state power, side by side with the projection of a representation of economic and social life, which denies "politics" and, to the extent that it is successful, suspends its effects.
Thus the "development" apparatus in Lesotho does, then, is an "anti-politics machine", depoliticising everything it touches, removing political realities, all the while performing, almost unnoticed, its own pre-eminently political operation of expanding bureaucratic state power.
The author takes issue with both the liberal and Marxist literature on the "development" industry for taking as given the reform or imperialist relations respectively, and instead their main target is the depoliticising nature of "development", which promotes itself as politically-netural in attempting to address the problems of poverty and deprivation, which acts as a smokescreen in many cases for the power of the state to be expanded

The book investigates how the dominant problematic of "development" work in practice and its effects through a case study of Lesotho, specifically the 1975 World Bank Country Report on Lesotho and the Thaba-Tseka Development Project
In doing so, the book superbly shows that the "development" industry does not allow its role to be formulated as a political one; by uncompromisingly reducing poverty to a technical problem, and by promising technical solutions to the sufferings of powerless and oppressed people, the hegemonic problematic of "development" is the principal means through which the question of poverty is de-politicised in the world today. This then results in a two-fold effect: alongside the institutional effect of expanding bureaucratic state power is the conceptual or ideological effect of depoliticising both poverty and the state
Finally, although the author is careful to state that they have presented a single case and to let others to judge the extent the rocesses they have identified may be in operation in other contexts; they do put forward that some degree of generalisation may be possible from the case of Lesotho as however diverse may be the empirical settings within which the "development" apparatus operates, many aspects of "development" interventions remain remarkably uniform and standardised from place to place

Highly recommended to anyone interested in "development"

[Chiara Valenti · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ferguson’s The Anti-Politics Machine is strikingly relevant decades after its publication. Through the very specific case of Lesotho, Ferguson critiques the entire development apparatus, showing how projects depoliticize complex realities while entrenching bureaucratic power. That narrow focus can be critiqued, but it also makes the argument sharper, and the resonance is clear today: we still see “many Lesothos,” from Somalia to other aid-dependent contexts that remain at the epicenter of development and humanitarian interventions. What impresses me most is how little has changed; the critiques Ferguson outlined still speak directly to current funding structures and the knowledge systems that sustain them.

[CL Chu · Rating 3 out of 5]

Really interesting book (and the type of "I write this so you don't have" type of classics). Make me reflect on my own state and agrarian bias in understanding postwar development, as well as how it got de-/re-politicized.

Also a book written by foreign (Global North) scholars for other foreign scholars. One does wonder how national elites/bureaucrats themselves perceived development: what's in it for them to participate in the anti-politics machine (and mobilize the machine for their own political goals)? How was participation in development related to pre-independent anticolonial struggle?

Would really appreciate some reading suggestion here.

[Trey Pennington · Rating 4 out of 5]

This isn’t just a case study on development in Lesotho. This is an ethnography of the “development class” who enter spaces and apply their own perspective to local issues. By focusing on a specific case, Lesotho, and using the example to generally describe many aspects of development practices, Ferguson opens the eyes of many readers as to how mistakes can be made when you view issues through a pre-established lens. While I have questions and a few areas that I would push back on, this book was nonetheless extremely eye-opening, and I recommend it to anyone interested in development economics, humanitarian work, or international cooperation in general.

[Brurce Mecca · Rating 5 out of 5]

I specially enjoyed the depiction of social value of cattles that opposed capitalistic notions in Bovine Mystique --how to some extent the cultural construct ranging from ages, gender, and patron/client relations have created some sense of 'securities' in a way that are indigestible by capitalistic values. It may have sounded Marxist in sometimes.

What's great that his book has shed some lights on the apparent, yet self-perpetuating blind spot of development projects. A way to let yourself out of the bounded ideas of capitalist transition

[Mark · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a mind-bending trip into the world of international development and just how bizarre, counterintuitive, and flat out insane the industry can be. I have always been a proponent of local solutions and this provides clear evidence in favor of that. I found the conclusion and epilogue a bit underwhelming and repetitive, but this didn't take away from Ferguson's firsthand experiences and the book as a whole.

[Vasilis · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of the most influential critiques of development and rightly so. A gem of a book that makes one think deep and long about developmental projects, developmental agencies and the implications of the 'development' discourse.

[James Hadinger · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book for my So You Want to Save the World course - This book is an eye-opening account to the magnitude of what can go wrong in a development project. Great insight into the Thaba-Tseka project in Lesotho.

[Niso Lione · Rating 4 out of 5]

Incredibly lucid in his understanding, Ferguson shows exactly why anthropologists should be reading I.R., and why I.R. scholars should be reading antrhopology - because essentialisms make bad theory and awful, harmful practice.

[Samantha · Rating 3 out of 5]

incredibly dense but enlightening

[Joshua VanCleave · Rating 4 out of 5]

A great insight into the world of development and its consequences through the eyes of a detailed case study.

[Oliver Kim]

Chapters 2, 9, and the epilogue should be required reading for all development -- or, to borrow Ferguson's usage, "development" -- researchers.

[William Boggart · Rating 1 out of 5]

L'intrigue, sans titre, fait aller dans le temps, transportant le spectateur à une époque où la foi et le destin étaient des forces omniprésentes et mystérieuses.

[Max · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was an intelligent and thought-provoking book. It is a terrific deconstruction of the institution of "development."

The subject of the book is a development project in Lesotho. It discusses how the Canadian International Development Agency (Canada's USAID) twisted a complex situation into a simple model so that it could apply its standard "development" prescriptions to the situation at hand. The resulting project was a failure and the book examines exactly why it was such a failure.

Adapted from the author's PHD dissertation, the book is a bit dry and plodding at times, but it is lucid and full of terrific analysis.

Some of my favorite passages:
"Often, the question was put to me in the form "What should they do?", with the "they" being not very helpfully specified as "Lesotho" or "the Basotho". The "they" here is an imaginary, collective subject, linked to utopian prescriptions for advancing the collective interests of "the Basotho." Such a "they" clearly needs to be broken up. The inhabitants of Lesotho do not all share the same interests or the same circumstances, and they do not act as a single unit. There exists neither a collective will nor a collective subject capable of serving it.
"When "developers" spoke of such a collectivity, what they meant was usually the government. But the government of Lesotho is of course not identical with the people who live in Lesotho, nor is it in any of the established senses "representative" of that collectivity. As in most countries, the government is a relatively small clique with narrow interests... Speaking very broadly, the interests represented by governmental elites in a country like Lesotho are not congruent with those of the government and in a great many cases are positively antagonistic. Under these circumstances, there is little point in asking what such entrenched and often extractive elites should do in order to empower the poor. Their own structural positions makes it clear that they would be the last ones to undertake such a project."

"If the question "what should they do" is not intelligibly posed of the government, another move is to ask if the "they" to be address should not be instead "the people." Surely "the masses" themselves have an interest in overcoming poverty, hunger and other symptoms of powerlessness... Once again, the question is befuddled by a false unity. "The people' are not an undifferentiated mass. Rich and poor, women and men, city dwellers and villagers, workers and dependents, old and young; all confront different problems and devise different strategies for dealing with them. There is not one question -- "what is to be done" -- but hundreds: what should the mineworkers do, what should the abandoned old women do, what should the unemployed do, and on and on. It seems, at the least, presumptuous to offer prescriptions here. The toiling minters and the abandoned old women know the proper tactics to their situations far better than any expert does. Indeed, the only general answer to the question, "What should they do?" is: "They are doing it!.""

This was also interesting:
"If one takes the "development" problematic at its word... the absence of growth in agricultural output... can only be considered an unfortunate mistake. But another explanation is possible. if one considers the expansion and entrenchment of state power to be the principal effect -- indeed, what "development" projects in Lesotho are chiefly about -- then the promise of agricultural transformation appears simply as a point of entry for an intervention of a very different character. In this perspective, the "development apparatus in Lesotho is not a machine for eliminating poverty that is incidentally involved in bureaucracy; it is a machine for reinforcing and expanding the exercise of bureaucratic state power, which incidentally takes "poverty" as its point of entry."

[Maggie Brandes · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great scholarship. Original, thoughtful, concise.

[Mwanafunzi · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a very strong study. A fundamental concern of Ferguson's is questioning what exactly “development” is, what it does, and how and why it does what it does. He approaches these questions based on his ethnographic work on a livestock management project that was at work in Lesotho from 1975–1984. Like so many other “rural development projects” in Lesotho and in Africa more generally, the project failed to produce its intended effects. But Ferguson compellingly argues that it's not so much the failure of the project that is analytically interesting. It is instead the sets of discourses that framed the project and that rendered the project’s unintended consequences “intelligible” to the project's stakeholders that should attract our attention. Ferguson wants to show that an ethnography of this apparatus can lead us to an appreciation that development institutions effectively depoliticize the projects they fund. Through their sets of discourse, the development stakeholders constructed Lesotho (read: any African or “Third World” country) as a particular object of knowledge and moreover mandated that interventions be organized according to their knowledge structure. I think the argument might be overdetermined, but it certainly compels sustained consideration from the reader.

[Yaniv · Rating 5 out of 5]

An absolute classic in the literature of development. Ferguson's work examines the institutions, policies and practices of the development industry as a set of discourses with real-world effects on the ground. His work draws largely on Foucauldian insights on the power relations within discourses that claim to de-politicize socially and historically-rooted inequalities among the people of Lesotho. Although the book could have used more ethnographic information in the first chapters, by the time Ferguson delves into the failed methods practiced and reinforced by the World Bank, the book takes a vibrant and refreshing new course.

This text is a tour de force. Highly recommended for anyone interested in development studies.

[Ike Sharpless · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was easily the best book I read for an Anthropology of Development course I took as an undergrad. Lesotho is geographically, historically, and culturally a fascinating case study, and this is a good primer on how the World Bank can mess up. As with most such 'anti-development' (or anti-globalization, or even postmodern) insights, I think it's best digested as a corrective to ill-formed policy than as a frontal assault on the concept of global development. But that's just me being a pragmatist.

[Katherine · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a must-read for anyone remotely interested in the development industry. Even though Ferguson focuses on Lesotho, he exposes the development apparatus as it functions globally, using Foucault's analysis of the evolution and discourse of the modern prison system as a model for his analysis of development discourse and its effects. If you can't read the whole book, at least read the first chapter.