9 The Trajectory of the Plantation System in Mozambique: The Case of Madal in Micaúne

José Laimone Adalima

Introduction

How local long-term changes in land relations have affected different actors and interests is a topic under-researched in Mozambique. A relevant example is provided by the plantation systems developed in northern Mozambique by international private companies, which alienated land from the local people to produce a variety of cash crops under a plantation regime. Of special interest here is an enclave economy based on a coconut plantation established by the French-owned Société du Madal in Zambézia Province around 1900. While Madal primarily engaged in copra production, its business activities diversified over time.¹ In this chapter, I rely on ethnographic research, complemented by interviews and life histories, to chronicle the continued existence of the colonial plantation system in Mozambique.

The Madal case combines labour and land relations and provides an entry point to understanding social relations of production, power dynamics, and processes of accumulation and dispossession across the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Following Lloyd Best and Kari Levitt and Cooper, I use the concept of plantation economy to describe an economy based on a monoculture produced in a regime of plantations as an integral part of industrial capitalism, where peripheries of western Europe are the suppliers of labour and producers of raw materials and agricultural produce.²

The chapter is concerned with coconut and its centrality in the economy, and for that reason I adopt the concept of “coconut economy” as used by Mathew for Kerala; similarly, coconut has been central to the economy of Micaúne since the 1880s.³

From a historical perspective, I delve into the connection between land tenure and the livelihoods of the inhabitants of the administrative post of Micaúne District in Chinde, Zambézia Province. A fundamental premise for this analysis is that understanding the historical basis for the livelihoods of the people in Micaúne is inseparable from the history of Madal. It reveals how Madal evolved, adapting to the changing landscape of the country. It functioned as a “total institution,” serving as the major employer, a primary supplier of goods, a chief purchaser of coconut from the family sector, and the principal landholder in the region. Bertelsen locates Madal not only as a colonial actor in a narrow economic sense, but also as an important player within the colonial political field as the company was an integral part of Portuguese colonial rule and strategy in Mozambique.⁴

To build contextual understanding of Micaúne’s economy, the next section describes the political and economic development of the plantation system in central Mozambique since the 1880s. This is followed by the description and analysis of the trajectory of the coconut economy to highlight continuities over time. The final section focuses on the legacy of the plantation system and how it continues to shape land governance to date.

The Prazos of Zambézia

Before the arrival of the Portuguese, historians note that Arab merchants were involved in extensive long-distance trade in Mozambique’s coastal areas and the hinterland domain of the Mwenemutapa Empire. Their primary aim was the trade of cloth and beads for valuable commodities like gold and probably ivory. In stark contrast, the Portuguese conquerors who arrived in the sixteenth century and the first half of the seventeenth pursued a multi-faceted agenda. Their objectives encompassed the occupation of the Mwenemutapa’s gold and silver mines, the displacement of the Arabs through military conquest, and the religious assimilation of the African people.⁵ To achieve these goals, the Portuguese Crown established the “prazos of the Crown,” a chain of territories along the Zambezi River valley, spanning from Quelimane on the coast to Zumbo, situated on the western border adjoining Mashonaland (present-day Zimbabwe).⁶

The prazos of the seventeenth to nineteenth centuries primarily functioned as land grants to people of Portuguese origin across three generations, with a requirement for or preference toward succession through the female line. These prazos consisted of prazo holders and their families, along with African settlers, enslaved individuals, and livestock.⁷ The prazos primarily engaged in trade, building upon pre-existing routes and networks that were in place before the Portuguese arrival.⁸ As time progressed, particularly from the 1880s onward, prazo holders were authorized to govern the regions under their control. This granted them the ability to facilitate the growth of agricultural production, trade, and the collection of taxes, all of which could then be directed toward the Portuguese treasury.⁹

The Crown maintained ownership rights while granting usage rights in exchange for a leasing fee in gold starting in 1633.¹⁰ However, the prazo system, in many instances, did not significantly alter the production relationships of the local inhabitants, who continued with subsistence farming as before and were allowed access to a hectare per hut.¹¹

According to Negrão, prazos were categorized based on their geographic location, specifically the ones in the Zambezi Delta, those situated north of the Zambezi River, and those within the territory of the Mwenemutapa Empire.¹² The first category possessed ample land but didn’t immediately pique the interest of adventurers due to the absence of gold and ivory resources; the second category was located in a region governed by the Marave Empire and produced cotton and ivory, which were sources of income overlooked by the Portuguese; and the last category fell under the control of the Mwenemutapa Empire and yielded precious metals, which was the primary incentive for Portuguese presence in the area.

The “prazos of the Crown” in the Mwenemutapa Empire territory gained significance following the treaties signed with Mwenemutapa in 1607 and 1629, acknowledging Portuguese Crown ownership of extensive territories in exchange for military assistance.¹³

As noted by Zonta, the replacement of the indigenous chiefs by the prazo holders at the helm of the African political structures occurred without significant disruptions to the social cohesion of the local communities. The inhabitants of the region gradually perceived the prazo holders as the legitimate successors or delegates of their former chiefs.¹⁴ These prazo holders initiated the collection of taxes on agricultural output from peasant lands. Importantly, akin to the precedent set by the traditional chiefs, the prazo holders never asserted ownership rights over the land, as it remained under communal ownership according to indigenous law.

Because the administration of the colonies was centralized under the authority of the Ministry of Marine and Overseas Affairs in Lisbon, Portugal faced significant challenges in maintaining effective law enforcement in its overseas territories. Moreover, conflicts between the metropolitan political elite and the administrative personnel stationed in the colonies further complicated the governance of Mozambique. ¹⁵

This situation ultimately benefited the colonial companies, as the supervision of their compliance with various regulations, especially labour laws, was often insufficient or lacking. This lack of oversight frequently resulted in disputes and labour shortages.¹⁶

The display of impunity by prazo companies in Zambézia during the first two decades of the twentieth century raised significant concerns among government officials. Complaints regarding the operations of these prazo holders were rife. They were accused of active involvement in the recruitment and provision of labour, all while generating substantial profits in flagrant disregard of prevailing legislation. Some officials went as far as to suggest the prazo system should be abolished, primarily because prazo holders were blatantly flouting the terms of their contracts and actively resisting government oversight of their activities. ¹⁷

In the 1880s, a significant transformation occurred due to Portugal’s inability to modernize the prazo system as well as the mounting pressure from other colonial powers, particularly following the Berlin Conference of 1884–5. This pressure was aimed at compelling Portugal to demonstrate its effective control over the territories for which it claimed historical rights.

In the case of Zambézia, Portugal’s presence was primarily limited to Quelimane, which it had occupied in 1870,¹⁸ and a small coconut plantation in Micaúne owned by the Correia and Carvalho company.¹⁹ In response to this situation, the Portuguese state initiated land reforms in 1871. The primary objective of these reforms was to establish a land tenure system that would facilitate private Portuguese investment in agriculture. This would be achieved through a judicious allocation of land concessions on the prazos, thus marking a shift in the administration and utilization of these lands.

In 1873, several investments were approved, one of which came from João Correia, a nephew of Isidoro Correia, a well-known Zambezian slave trader. Correia, together with Carlos Nandim Carvalho, rented the Prazo Mahindo in Micaúne and co-founded the Correia and Carvalho firm. This enterprise initially entered the copra business in 1877 with a modest plantation of 70,000 palm trees. In 1883, the company made a significant decision to heavily invest in coconut production, resulting in an annual output of 130 tons by the turn of the century.²⁰ Overall, the strategy aimed at boosting private Portuguese investment in agriculture proved to be ineffective. Consequently, Portugal ended up leasing approximately two-thirds of Mozambique to foreign companies, primarily of British, French, German, and Swiss origin.²¹ The above-mentioned foreign entities established two major chartered companies, the Mozambique Company and the Nyassa/Niassa Company,²² alongside a leasing company known as the Zambézia Company.²³

Following this, new labour and land laws were approved, and designed to align with the preferences of foreign investors. These changes altered the pre-existing production relationships and significantly curtailed the autonomy previously enjoyed by Africans in the various prazos. As a consequence, all Africans were turned into a reservoir of cheap labour, and work became obligatory, encompassing various forms of forced labour. ²⁴

The Zambézia Company, established in 1892, obtained leasing rights from the Portuguese government under the decree of September 24, 1892. This granted it a ten-year mandate to manage the Crown prazos located north of the Zambezi River, extending to the west of the Luenha and Mazoi Rivers, encompassing an expansive area of 100,000 square kilometers.²⁵ With ownership stakes in the Zambézia Company, the Portuguese government strategically chose to sublease a portion of the company’s territory. This initiative led to the establishment of several enterprises, including Maganja Aquém Chire (founded in 1894), Boror (established in 1898), Société du Madal (formed in 1903), Companhia Agricola de Lugela (established in 1906), and Sena Sugar Estates (founded in 1920). These companies primarily specialized in cultivating various crops such as sisal, copra, sugar, tea, rice, and cotton within the region.²⁶

This marked the inception of the plantation system in Mozambique. According to Serra,²⁷ plantations extended across four distinct regions, with the coconut area being the most significant, situated between the mouths of the Zambezi and Raragra Rivers. The sisal area encompassed the banks of the Licungo River, while the sugar cane area stretched along the Zambezi River, covering Luabo and Mopeia. The fourth area extended to the regions bordering the Shire River.

In this chapter, my attention is directed toward the coconut plantations owned by Madal, which will be further elaborated on in the following section. Subsequently, the ensuing section will delve into the dynamics of these coconut plantations as envisioned by Madal.

Madal’s Plantations and the Coconut Economy of Micaúne in Colonial Mozambique

Micaúne, previously known as Prazo Mahindo, was an aringa (a brick-built stronghold) situated on the coast, covering a vast surface of 700,000 acres, equivalent to 280,000 hectares.²⁸ This fortress featured four bastions, serving as a defence against the indigenous populations who were far from submissive during that period.²⁹ It was categorized as a first-class prazo, and was owned by several prazo holders from 1630 before it was leased to Madal in 1904.³⁰

There is a lack of consensus regarding the identification of the people inhabiting the Prazo Mahindo area. According to Zonta, the inhabitants of this region are known as the Podzo. They primarily engaged in agriculture, cultivating crops such as maize, sorghum, millet, sweet potatoes, rice, beans, cassava, and peanuts.³¹ Land ownership rights were granted to those who had some trees, including palm trees and citrus. During the oilseed production boom in Zambézia between the late 1860s and the 1880s, the Podzo played a significant role in the production of sesame and peanuts.³² Isaacman contends that the Podzo should be considered part of the e-Chuabo ethnic group rather than an independent ethnic group.³³ On the other hand, Rita-Ferreira categorizes them as one of the peripheral minorities within the ci-Sena.³⁴

This disparity could be indicative of the fusion of diverse elements from e-Chuabo and ci-Sena, as well as the influences of Islam and Christianity in shaping the local culture. Currently, the individuals I have spoken to do not identify themselves as either Podzo or ci-Sena but rather as the Mahindo, signifying those who communicate in the Mahindo language. In fact, in contemporary official records, “Mahindo” refers to the community residing in Micaúne.

While the local population had a certain familiarity with coconuts, their production remained comparatively limited in contrast to the 1900s. During that period, companies like Madal initiated palm plantations, taking advantage of forced labour legislation and land expropriations. The pivotal moment in copra production occurred during the 1880s when a surge in oilseed production in Zambézia was catalyzed by the soaring demand from Europe, stemming from the repercussions of the Crimean War (1853–6). This conflict disrupted the trade of fatty oils from the Russian Far East and eastern Europe, prompting an increased reliance on copra.

In 1853, France and Portugal entered into an agreement that granted complete freedom of commerce and navigation between the two nations. This agreement also permitted French ships to export a wide range of goods from Portuguese territories.³⁵ As a result of this accord, French enterprises started to play an ever-growing role in the copra production and export industry in Mozambique.

In Micaúne, the establishment and growth of the coconut economy received its most significant impetus through the efforts of the French-owned Madal company, which was founded in 1903. A year later, they expanded their operations by renting Prazo Mahindo and commencing the establishment of additional coconut plantations, achieved through the clearing of forests and the strategic planting of trees.³⁶ Madal significantly expanded its palm tree holdings within the designated third section of Micaúne by leasing additional land and consolidating ownership in neighbouring Prazo Mahindo areas.³⁷

By 1908, they had successfully cultivated palm trees across 544 hectares of land.³⁸ Over the years, their efforts bore fruit, and by 1920, the number of palm trees in Madal’s possession had grown to an impressive total of over 225,000, with more than half of them bearing fruit.³⁹

Brandão asserted that Madal played a pivotal role in establishing the production infrastructure, which encompassed the construction of housing for managers, roadways, and a network of stations that served as the focal points for copra production. Typically, these stations featured a central house, auxiliary facilities, and worker accommodations arranged in a spacious quadrangle, with plantations encircling them.⁴⁰ Furthermore, Madal devised an innovative management model that emphasized the supervision and control of plantations from multiple stations, facilitating the conversion of coconuts into copra. Following this transformation, copra was transported via boats from Micaúne to the port of Quelimane, where the company maintained its warehouses.

This meant that Madal had a tight grip on the entire coconut production chain, exercising control over incentives within it. My informants noted that palm trees were ubiquitous across the landscape, with little land remaining untouched by these trees. These observations align with Negrão’s research, which indicated that “on average, there were around 100 palm trees per hectare but in some cases, one could find between 120 and 160 palm trees.”⁴¹ Consequently, through Madal’s influence, the coconut industry became the linchpin of all activities in Micaúne. In essence, the entire society revolved around this cash crop, leaving limited room for pursuits beyond it.

The local economy relied on two key factors: the availability of cheap labour and the outsourcing of production from the residents to remain competitive in the global market. These two income streams, to varying extents, sustained the livelihoods of the residents for over a century. Consequently, a mutually dependent and symbiotic relationship between Madal and the residents flourished. In a short period, Madal emerged as the primary employer in Micaúne, predominantly hiring men as seasonal labourers on its plantations. Simultaneously, residents could sell coconuts from their palm trees to the company. In a sense, as my informants emphasized, the coconut economy was considered reliable, offering a steady and dependable source of income. However, the coconut-based economy posed significant challenges for many informants.

Endurance of the Colonial Plantation Regime After Independence

The predictability of the coconut-based economy persisted even after Mozambique gained its independence in 1975, despite the government’s rhetoric of radical change from the colonial state. The post-colonial government maintained the colonial economic structure, characterized by significant land concentration and investments in areas such as plantations and state farms, rather than prioritizing the redistribution of land to family producers.

Inspired by Tanzania’s Ujamaa, Algeria’s communal villages and the relative success of production in the liberated zones in Mozambique during the colonial war, FRELIMO⁴² embarked on an ambitious mission to establish people’s democratic power by advocating for a society free of the exploitation of “man by man,” in line with Marxist-Leninist principles. With a state-controlled economy, agriculture took centre stage in shaping its economic policies. However, the tumultuous violence that accompanied the transition of power from Portugal to FRELIMO upon independence led to widespread fear, insecurity, and political chaos.

As a result, many owners of both large and small businesses, as well as managers and officials who had uncertainties about their future, hastily abandoned their properties, residences, and other assets, including land. Following Mozambique’s independence in 1975, these properties were subsequently nationalized and repurposed into state-owned farms and enterprises.⁴³

The investors who felt aggrieved by the newly established government lent their support to the formation of the rebel group RENAMO⁴⁴ when it emerged in 1976, initiating a conflict against the nascent government. This conflict eventually concluded with a peace accord signed in Rome in 1992. This situation highlights a connection between affected businesses and RENAMO’s discontentment with FRELIMO’s Marxist policies.

The inclusion of provisions in the 1975 new constitution recognizing private property and permitting foreign investors to engage in activities, as long as such activities were in alignment with the constitution’s stipulations,⁴⁵ gave rise to a persistent source of tension within the post-colonial state’s political landscape. This tension emerged because the government persisted in implementing its Marxist policies,⁴⁶ while at the same time certain plantation companies, like Madal, were able to persist in their operations. Having survived nationalization, Madal continued to have a monopoly on the commercialization of copra in the country, given that its rival company, Boror,⁴⁷ was nationalized at the end of the 1970s.⁴⁸

Madal retained possession of the land it had acquired during the colonial era, without any state farms or collective villages being established in Micaúne. Moreover, for many decades, the copra production process remained unchanged. Production methods remained rudimentary and labour-intensive, with workers receiving meagre wages, often falling below the minimum wage established by the Mozambican government.⁴⁹ As per Mr. Abudo, a former Madal employee in Micaúne during the 1980s, there were no discernible improvements in working conditions.

According to his account, the company’s remuneration scale was structured as follows: Specialized workers received 10.00 meticais per day, equivalent to US$0.40 (at an exchange rate of US$1.00 for 23.88763 meticais),⁵⁰ while non-specialized workers, including coconut pickers and loaders, received 7.50 meticais per day, equivalent to US$0.30. Each worker was expected to complete a daily quota of 1,000 coconuts. Mechanics and carpenters earned relatively more, around 20.00 meticais per day, equivalent to US$0.80. It’s worth noting that the majority of the physically demanding tasks were performed by men due to the perceived greater physical strength required. Women, on the other hand, were primarily engaged in domestic responsibilities such as caring for children, cooking, fetching water, and subsistence farming.⁵¹

In the 1980s, just as in the colonial period, the company actively encouraged children to collaborate with their fathers to acquire the skills of their trade. Mr. Ricardo fondly reminisced about Madal’s profound influence on his life, stating,

As a child, I would accompany my father to Madal every single day. I eagerly supported him in his tasks, and through this hands-on experience, I mastered the intricacies of his work. While Madal did not provide me with a regular wage, when my father faced physical limitations that hindered his work, the company recognized my ability to step in and take his place. This marked the beginning of my journey as a Madal employee. Furthermore, within my extended family, many other members, at various points in their lives, also embraced roles within the Madal workforce. It seemed like almost everyone in my family had their own Madal story to tell.

During his lifetime, Mr. Ricardo served as a blacksmith at Madal until his retirement in 1985. He took over the position from his father, who tragically lost his life in 1992 after being captured by RENAMO soldiers in the district of Mocuba, situated approximately two hundred kilometres away.⁵²

During the armed conflict, Madal’s operations, including those in Micaúne, were partially impacted. Nevertheless, the company managed to maintain profitability, even when the international market copra price dropped from US$750 to US$140 in 1985–6. As per register number 2025, dated 23 January 1985, the company reported profits of 14,940,908 meticais, equivalent to US$6,254,671 in 1983. From 1983 to 1986, Madal exported 18,819 metric tons of copra, generating revenues of US$6,830,000. This accounted for more than 60 per cent of Mozambique’s copra exports during that period. Additionally, Madal contributed to the domestic industry by producing another 8,961,134 kilograms of copra.⁵³

The country’s shift toward a market economy, initiated by the structural adjustment program in 1987, re-emphasized the significance of private property, mirroring a historical trend from the colonial era. Madal seemingly emerged as a beneficiary of the privatization process, capitalizing on its connections with the political elite.⁵⁴ Leveraging these connections, the company acquired multiple state enterprises and engaged in collaborative ventures with the government.⁵⁵

In Micaúne, apart from Madal, which retained land from the colonial period, new private landholders have been acquiring land through the privatization process that commenced in 1987. During this period, the government granted approximately 39,962 hectares of new land concessions in Micaúne. Of these, 19,428 hectares were allocated to Madal, while the remaining land was distributed among three other companies: Companhia de Sena (formerly known as the Sena Sugar Estate), with 102.59 hectares, Sociedade Micaúne Eco-Turismo, with 9,400 hectares, and Pro-Hunter Safari, with 9,600 hectares. Additionally, 1,431.20 hectares were allocated to six individuals and the Quelimane Diocese.

Madal also appeared to have capitalized on the post-conflict period following 1992, drawing in seasonal labour, especially from individuals displaced by the war who resettled in Micaúne. During this time, Madal seized the opportunity to boost its production by taking advantage of the surplus labour force. According to a Madal representative in Micaúne, the company had approximately seven thousand employees in Micaúne by 1992, indicating a significant upturn in the coconut industry.

During this period, a new generation of coconut traders emerged in the region, primarily consisting of Mozambicans based in Micaúne. They acted as intermediaries between Madal and local household coconut producers. Over approximately a decade, these traders purchased coconuts from local families at reduced prices and then included a profit margin when selling to Madal and other companies. Additionally, they were actively engaged in the production of coconut oil, which they marketed in Quelimane, the provincial capital.

In the year when the new land law (Law 19/97 of 1 October) was approved, Madal acquired three plantations previously owned by Boror. As the 2000s unfolded, Madal solidified its position as the foremost private landowner in Mozambique, overseeing the employment of approximately five hundred workers at its Micaúne plantation.⁵⁶ The emergence and rapid spreading of coconut lethal yellowing disease (CLYD) in the late 1990s had a profound and transformative impact on the local economy. As Rønning reported, “CLYD was observed for the first time in Madal’s coconut plantation in Micaúne in March of 1998 and it was rapidly spreading through the palms of the local people bordering the company’s plantations.”⁵⁷

The disease continued to proliferate, eventually reaching a critical point in 2004, necessitating the removal of palm trees belonging to both residents and Madal. This, unfortunately, resulted in a substantial loss of income and employment opportunities, engendering a climate of uncertainty and exacerbating food insecurity in the region. One might have anticipated Madal leaving the area once the coconut industry declined. However, to the contrary, the company has persisted to the present day, retaining ownership of the land where the plantations once thrived.

They have diversified land use since the onset and subsequent upsurge of CLYD, patiently awaiting recovery from the disease while actively participating in the cultivation of cash crops such as sesame, engaging in game farming, and promoting tourism.

During my fieldwork in 2012, it was observed that approximately 118,199 out of the 200,000 hectares encompassing Micaúne were under private control, with Madal alone occupying 42,424 hectares. The remaining land was held in a shared capacity, with both state and communal ownership, including areas like deserts, mangroves, and rivers. In most cases, these land concessions, including Madal’s, complied with the legal requirement to pay an annual levy for land occupation.

Nonetheless, the persistence of the company has engendered ongoing tensions with residents who urgently require land for their livelihoods. In 2020, I reached out to one of my sources to gather updates on the latest developments in Micaúne. According to my contact, Madal continued to maintain significant control over the local territory.

The absence of government intervention in this matter may imply the continued prioritization of plantation-style agricultural production in Mozambique. Subsequent sections will illustrate how the historical plantation system endures, influencing contemporary land governance. This is especially evident as (agri)business enclaves adopt operational models reminiscent of those employed by colonial enterprises, such as Madal.

The Legacy of Plantations in Contemporary Mozambique

While Law 1/86 of 16 April, an amendment to the original post-colonial Land Law 6/79 of 3 July 1979, did acknowledge the existence of two distinct systems of land use rights—formal and customary—it notably established a framework for issuing land use rights for a renewable period of fifty years. This provision aimed at incentivizing significant foreign investments, as local communities maintained unrestricted land use rights. To comprehensively assess the nation’s land utilization and lay the groundwork for future land policies and legislation, the government established a research initiative in the early 1990s. This endeavour was carried out under the auspices of the then “Ad Hoc” Land Commission, with substantial support from the University of Wisconsin Land Tenure Center and the United States Agency for International Development (USAID).⁵⁸ It is noteworthy that this occurred in tandem with the privatization of state-owned assets that was initiated in 1989. Between 1989 and 1997, the government embarked on an extensive program to divest state-owned assets. As part of this initiative, the government granted fifty-year renewable concessions for thousands of acres of agricultural land, undertook a significant restructuring of approximately 740 enterprises, and facilitated the establishment of 120 new privately owned enterprises.⁵⁹

A specific cohort of individuals closely associated with the FRELIMO party and state leadership played a crucial role in shaping the Mozambican business elite during the transition from socialism to a multi-party system in the late 1980s. Given the limited capital available to the majority of Mozambicans, the political elite actively pursued partnerships with foreign investors from a variety of nations, including Portugal, South Africa, the United States, Great Britain, Holland, Denmark, Norway, Cyprus, Zimbabwe, Swaziland, Mauritius, India, and China.⁶⁰ These elite figures amassed wealth as “silent partners”⁶¹ and were instrumental in driving the push for the privatization of former colonial concessions and plantations, as they aspired to profit from the sale of the land obtained through these privatization efforts.⁶²

This pattern of economic transformation was not unique to Mozambique. Russian oligarchs, for example, exhibited similar characteristics. In both cases, the transition from socialism to capitalism led to individuals with close ties to the ruling political regime gaining preferential access to privatized state assets, enabling them to establish substantial businesses.⁶³

The influential figures within successive governments have consistently advocated for extensive plantation agriculture and forestry, ultimately leading to the privatization of land. During the deliberations that preceded the enactment of the 1997 Land Law, the concept of privatization was actively promoted not only by the World Bank and the United States but also by the Mozambican elites who eagerly pursued land concessions to profit from potential sales.⁶⁴ The pretext put forth by proponents of privatization was the necessity of using land as collateral to access credit, but in reality, the underlying motive was to acquire substantial land holdings for speculative purposes.⁶⁵

Civil society organizations and local communities have vehemently opposed this through a series of actions, notably the land campaign established in 1996. This campaign comprised around two hundred non-governmental organizations, both national and foreign, as well as churches, associations, co-operatives, and other entities representing civil society and academics. Together, they collaborated to disseminate information, primarily aimed at rural families.⁶⁶

Similarly, in response to the tactics employed by proponents of land privatization, peasant organizations were quick to oppose them and successfully made their case.⁶⁷ For instance, the Rural Association for Mutual Support, a rural residents’ association founded in 1996, organized a public demonstration against the privatization of land, using the slogan “no to land privatization.” This demonstration garnered support from a broad spectrum of participants, including peasants, political parties, and even FRELIMO, just a week before the new land bill was presented to the country’s parliament.⁶⁸

Amid the heated opposition to land privatization, the 1997 Land Law was enacted, followed by its rural area regulations in 1998, notably devoid of any provisions for privatization.

The most significant aspect of the land reforms was the state’s formal acknowledgement of rights acquired through customary law and the introduction of incentives to encourage private interests to invest in land for a renewable period of fifty years. According to Law 19/97, local communities possess the authority to establish DUATs (Direito de uso e aproveitamento de terra, or state-granted land rights) for themselves, which represents a permanent and legally recognized entitlement to land use. Furthermore, within a given community, both men and women have the opportunity to request individual land rights once the community demarcates its respective land areas.⁶⁹ Moreover, the law allows for the inheritance of land use rights, with no gender-based distinctions. Oral testimonies regarding land rights are also legally recognized and valid.⁷⁰

Remarkably, this legislation received global recognition, with organizations such as the World Bank and United Kingdom’s Department for International Development applauding its protection of peasant rights and its skillful management of collective and community land tenure.⁷¹ This accomplishment can be seen as a victory for families and small-scale landholders who tenaciously opposed land privatization efforts, though it did not mark the conclusion of the struggle against land privatization.

The government’s stance on the land issue remained ambiguous. Policy documents and strategies convey one set of intentions, while the actual situation on the ground appears to lean toward granting extensive land concessions to both foreign and domestic investors. As pointed out by Hanlon, “there remains a division within the government . . . [over] whether the priority should be given to large-scale or small-scale investments.”⁷²

In 1996, shortly before the implementation of the land law (Law 19/97), the government launched a fifty-year commercial agricultural joint venture known as Mozagrius. This endeavour entailed the allocation of a significant land parcel in Niassa Province to South African farmers. However, this ambitious undertaking encountered several hurdles and ultimately faltered within a few years. These challenges included insufficient infrastructure, financial difficulties, and conflicts with community leaders and the local population.

Just one year after the new land law was approved, the government gave its nod to the National Programme for Agricultural Development (PROAGRI I) in 1998, with a substantial budget of US$202 million. This pioneering endeavour received support from a collaborative donor fund, showcasing the steadfast dedication of development partners to advancing large-scale farming initiatives.⁷³

Three years after the approval of PROAGRI I, the issue of land privatization once again came to the fore. This time, it was championed by Hélder Muteia, who was then serving as the minister of agriculture and rural development. It appeared that he had garnered support from influential entities such as the World Bank and USAID. However, despite these efforts, resolute opposition to land privatization was evident during FRELIMO’s Eighth Congress in June 2002, as well as within the government. Both FRELIMO and the government reaffirmed the constitutional principle of state land ownership.⁷⁴

This stance has been consistently reiterated in subsequent FRELIMO congresses to this day, despite the government’s ongoing efforts to attract substantial foreign investments. However, the unresolved contradictions within FRELIMO, specifically between small-scale and large-scale agriculture, including plantations, persisted.

A clear example of this situation emerged in 2005 when the land once held by the unsuccessful Mozagrius project was transferred to the Malonda Foundation.⁷⁵ This foundation operated as a joint venture between the Swedish government and the local population, aiming to utilize the land for the common good.⁷⁶ Nevertheless, the Malonda Foundation soon faced challenges as it grappled with disputes from local communities, necessitating substantial alterations in its leadership and operations.⁷⁷ In the same year, the government approved PROAGRI II (2006–10), which aimed to transition subsistence farming into commercial agriculture and bolster current production levels.⁷⁸

Foreign investments in large-scale agriculture have shown a consistent and remarkable surge since 2002. This upward trajectory can primarily be attributed to the perceived abundance of expansive, under-exploited arable land in Mozambique, totalling an impressive thirty-six million hectares.⁷⁹ This perception has become a significant driving force behind the government’s active promotion of large-scale concessions, including plantation development. Between 2004 and 2010 Mozambique granted concessions to foreign companies of close to one million hectares, around 73 per cent for forest and 13 per cent for agrofuels and sugar.⁸⁰ In 2008, the Ministry of Agriculture initiated an agrarian zoning project to gain a comprehensive overview of available land within the country and identify additional areas suitable for substantial foreign investment in agriculture.

The findings of this initial study revealed the existence of 7 million hectares of land that could support large-scale agricultural endeavours, accounting for 19.4 per cent of the total arable land. Among this land, 3.7 million hectares were deemed suitable for large-scale agricultural activities, including agrofuel production, while the remaining 3.2 million hectares were allocated for various other purposes, such as forestry and grazing. However, the cabinet expressed reservations about the level of detail in the initial zoning report and subsequently decided to commission a follow-up study conducted by an external consultant. This second zoning study was slated for completion by 2012.⁸¹

One year following the implementation of the agrarian zoning initiative, additional substantial land concessions were allocated to various entities. Portucel, a Portuguese paper company, secured one such concession, while two Nordic groups, the Malonda Foundation and the Global Solidarity Forest Fund, which includes Nordic churches and a significant Dutch teachers’ pension fund,⁸² were also granted concessions. In addition, Chikweti received a concession for an expansive area spanning 30,000 hectares.⁸³

In December 2009, the Mozambican government through its cabinet granted 10,000 hectares of an area in Gurué to a Portuguese company, QUIFEL, to sow soybean and sunflower for biodiesel. It should be noted that of the total area granted to QUIFEL, 490 hectares were already occupied by 244 local people for more than ten years, and according to the law, they were entitled to rights over that land. Nevertheless, the people were expelled by the government in December 2010.⁸⁴

Gonçalves has highlighted that the prioritization of substantial land investments, including plantation projects, in Mozambique has received renewed impetus in recent years, thanks to the emergence of policies and programs for agricultural development across Africa, collectively referred to as agricultural growth corridors.⁸⁵ The Mozambican government has identified six specific corridors within the country for these developments—namely, Nacala, Maputo, Limpopo, Beira, the Zambezi Valley, and Pemba-Lichinga.

The investments mentioned above undeniably demonstrate a significant emphasis on industrial tree plantations, with multiple northern governments participating through various channels, including pension funds.⁸⁶ This sustains the continuation of plantation projects, despite extensive research indicating that such endeavours often result in more negative than positive consequences. For instance, Kosenius and colleagues conducted a comprehensive study that highlights several advantages associated with plantations. However, their research also underscores potential drawbacks, such as reduced water availability, limited job creation prospects, and conflicts with local communities.⁸⁷ In the specific case of Mozambique, the available evidence overwhelmingly points toward unfavourable outcomes stemming from plantation initiatives, with negative repercussions outweighing the positive ones.⁸⁸

I did fieldwork in 2016 and 2017 in Zambézia and Nampula provinces, two important sites of the Nacala corridor. I observed an increasing tension between the plantation companies and the local people concerning access to both land and water resources. My observations resonate with those of Kosenius and colleagues as well as Almeida and Delgado’s assessment of plantations’ negative effects on land use changes affecting local livelihood possibilities.

Conclusion

The establishment of a plantation system in Mozambique was a direct consequence of the Portuguese authorities’ attempt to administer their country’s overseas territories amid the pressure from other colonial powers’ expansion projects. Portugal’s leasing of the territory to colonial companies was an attempt to respond to two basic problems: first, to ensure an effective occupation of Mozambique, which had been pursued since the fifteenth century, and second, to promote the economic development of Mozambique through the exploitation of human and natural resources. A plantation system encompassed both the above-mentioned problems, resulting in a focus on plantations as the model of land governance.

I argue that Madal epitomizes the Mozambican plantation system and the long-lasting coconut economy is a result of two interconnected factors. First, colonial capitalism consolidated an existing principle of wealth in people and things through several policies and legislation. Second, local customary law was adapted to the colonial law, leading to the coconut economy becoming embedded in society. There was a balance between the control of people (labour) by Madal and of things (palm trees and land) by both Madal and the local people. This pattern of social reproduction is similar to that of other colonial economies where companies paid low wages to keep labour working while households were obliged to carry a large burden. Being a company established more than a hundred years ago, Madal continued to manage plantations until recently, when an ecological crisis in the form of CLYD struck, killing the palm trees belonging to both the residents and Madal. This led to uncertainty and contributed to food insecurity in the area. The failure of the post-independence government to transform land relations in Mozambique attests to the strong structural nature of the economy inherited from the colonial period.

Isaacman and colleagues, Hanlon, and Bowen have shown that there is not much difference between World Bank–approved investments and colonial plantations in terms of the tactics used to dispossess local people, expand corporate control, use local labour, and promote monoculture.⁸⁹

Structural adjustment programs and later the intensification of the scramble for Africa as a result of multiple crises (e.g., fuel, food, finance) have added further incentives for large-scale land deals, in spite of the criticisms related to negative impacts for the people who rely on the land to derive their livelihoods. The plantation system in Mozambique has been confronted historically with the challenge of striking a balance between cash and food crop production. It is well-documented how the tension between the two has led to hunger and death.⁹⁰

Current contract farming arrangements between large-scale investors and residents mirror the colonial project (see, for instance, the prominence of Madal in copra production and export) and will lead to people’s alienation from their ancestral land.

Despite the problems associated with large-scale foreign investment in land, the Mozambican government continues to support it. This strong reliance on large-scale investments (plantations for that matter) that provide little benefit for the country has led some analysts to label the current Mozambican economy as an “extractive economy,” one that generates but does not accumulate wealth socially (at the dimension of the economy as a whole).⁹¹

This chapter has highlighted the policy contradictions on land and the role the political elite plays in pushing for a model of large-scale investments that benefit (a few) investors amid the tension between forestry and cash crop plantation investments.

Notes to Chapter 9

1. 1 Madal was involved in the production of latex used for producing rubber around the 1910s; the company was also involved in other agricultural enterprises and the Electro-Mechanical Company in the 1950s; and, in recent times, the company was involved in navigation services, mining prospection, cereals marketing, game reserves, distribution of food and related products, communication and information services, and fisheries and marine assemblages. Elsa Reiersen, “Scandinavians in Colonial Trading Companies and Capital-Intensive Networks: The Case of Christian Thams,” in Navigating Colonial Orders: Norwegian Entrepreneurship in Africa and Oceania, ed. Kirsten Alsaker Kjerland and Bjørn Enge Bertelsen (Berghahn Books, 2014), 267–90; Sérgio Chichava, “Vieux Mozambique: L’identité politique de la Zambézie” (PhD diss., Université Montesquieu Bordeaux 4, 2007); Nelson Edwards, Matt Tokar, and Jim Maxwell, Agribusiness Development in Sub-Saharan Africa: Optimal Strategies and Structures: Final Report, Technical Paper 83 (Office of Sustainable Development Bureau for Africa, US Agency for International Development, December 1997), https://pdf.usaid.gov/pdf_docs/PNACB834.pdf; Olívia Da Silva Mavie, “Bolsa de valores de Moçambique: a emissão das obrigações do grupo Madal, SARL” (Trabalho de fim de curso de licenciatura, Universidade Eduardo Mondlane, 2001); M. Anne Pitcher, “Sobreviver à transição: O legado das antigas empresas coloniais em Moçambique,” Análise Social 38, no. 168 (2003): 793–820.

2. 2 Lloyd Best and Kari Levitt, Externally Propelled Growth in the Caribbean: Selected Essays (McGill University, 1967); F. Cooper, Plantation Slavery on the East Coast of Africa (Yale University Press, 1977).

3. 3 Ajoy Mathew, “Coconut Economy of Kerala,” Social Scientist 14, no. 7 (1986): 59–70, https://doi.org/10.2307/3517251.

4. 4 Bjorn E. Bertelsen, “Colonialism in Norwegian and Portuguese: Madal in Mozambique, 1904–1930,” in Navigating Colonial Orders: Norwegian Entrepreneurship in Africa and Oceania, ed. Kirsten A. Kjerland and Bjørn E. Bertelsen (Berghahn Books, 2014), 291–320.

5. 5 José Negrão, “One Hundred Years of African Rural Family Economy: The Zambezi Delta in Retrospective Analysis” (PhD diss., University of Lund, 1995), 101–2.

6. 6 C. Serra, História de Moçambique, Volume I (Livraria Universitária, 2000).

7. 7 Negrão, “One hundred Years of African Rural Family Economy.”

8. 8 Nina Renee Bowen, “Traders and Livelihood Strategies in Post-Conflict Zambezia Province, Mozambique” (PhD diss., London School of Economics, 2000).

9. 9 José Negrão, Cem anos de economia da família rural africana: O delta do Zambeze em análise, 2nd ed. (Promédia, 2001), 12.

10. 10 Allen Isaacman, Mozambique, the Africanisation of a European Institution: The Zambezi Prazos 1705–1902 (University of Wisconsin Press, 1972); José Capela, “Conflitos Sociais na Zambézia, 1878–1892: A Transição do Senhorio para a Plantação,” Africana Studia 1 (1999): 143–73; Eugénia Rodrigues, “Portugueses e africanos nos Rios de Sena. Os Prazos da Coroa nos Séculos XVII e XVIII” (PhD diss.,Universidade Nova de Lisboa, 2002); Serra, História.

11. 11 Negrão, Cem anos.

12. 12 Negrão, “One Hundred,” 103.

13. 13 Negrão, 101–2.

14. 14 Diego Zonta, “Moçambique e o Comércio Internacional das Oleaginosas (1855 c.–1890 c.)” (master’s thesis, Universidade de Lisboa, 2011).

15. 15 James Duffy, Portuguese Africa (Harvard University Press, 1959).

16. 16 António Rita-Ferreira, “O Movimento Migratório de Trabalhadores entre Moçambique e a África do Sul,” Junta de Investigação do Ultramar, 1963.

17. 17 Filipe C. Carvalho, “Distrito de Quelimane: Relatório do Governador 1912–1913” (Imprensa Nacional, 1914).

18. 18 Allen Isaacman and Barbara Isaacman, “Os Prazeiros Como Trans-raianos: Um Estudo Sobre Transformação Social e Cultural,” Arquivo: Boletim do Arquivo Histórico de Moçambique 10 (1991): 5–48; Serra, História.

19. 19 Leroy Vail and Landeg White, Capitalism and Colonialism in Mozambique: A Study of Quelimane District (Heinemann, 1980), 107.

20. 20 Vail and White, Capitalism, 120.

21. 21 While maintaining control over the remaining regions, which included the southern areas situated south of the Save River, encompassing Inhambane, Gaza, and Maputo Districts. These regions had already become part of a service-driven economy that primarily exported labour to the South African mines. Furthermore, they were connected to a complex transport system that linked South African railways and ports to the Port of Maputo. Bowen, “Traders.”

22. 22 The Mozambique Company was founded in February 1888 and occupied the then Manica and Sofala Districts in an area of approximately 140,000 square kilometres. The Niassa Company was established in September 1891 and occupied the Niassa and Cabo Delgado District in an area of approximately 200,000 square kilometres. Leroy Vail, “Mozambique’s Chartered Companies: The Rule of the Feeble,” Journal of African History 17, no. 3 (1976): 389–416; Vail and White, Capitalism; Negrão, “One Hundred.”

23. 23 Vail and White, Capitalism; Serra, História; Bowen, “Traders.”

24. 24 According to the legislation, there were four categories of labour—namely, correctional, obligatory, contract and voluntary. Although, in theory, the four types described above indicate a clear separation of labour categories, in reality, the conditions under which all the Africans worked could be considered forced labour. Marvin Harris, “Portugal’s African ‘Wards’: A First-Hand Report on Labour and Education in Mozambique,” Africa Today 5, no. 6 (November–December 1958): 3–36; Allen Isaacman, “Coercion, Paternalism and Labour Process: The Mozambican Cotton Regime 1938–1961,” Journal of Southern African Studies 18, no. 3 (1992): 487–526; Esmeralda Simões Martinez, “O Trabalho Forçado na Legislação Colonial Portuguesa: O caso de Moçambique (1899–1926)” (master’s dissertation, Universidade de Lisboa, 2008).

25. 25 Vail and White, Capitalism; Negrão, “One Hundred.”

26. 26 Isaacman, “Coercion”; Judith F. Head, “State, Capital and Migrant Labour in Zambézia, Mozambique: A Study of the Labour Force of Sena Sugar Estates Limited” (PhD diss., University of Durham, 1980); Serra, “Capitalismo.”

27. 27 Serra, “Capitalismo,” 44.

28. 28 Capela, “Conflitos.”

29. 29 Francisco Gavicho de Lacerda, “A Júlia do Carungo,” in Figuras e episódios da Zambézia (Livraria Rodrigues, 1944), 143–8, http://macua.blogs.com/files/a-julia-do-carungo.pdf.

30. 30 Rodrigues, “Portugueses”; Negrão, “One Hundred.”

31. 31 Zonta, “Moçambique.”

32. 32 According to my informants from Micaúne, coconut production and trade have been a continuous tradition passed down through generations, predating the establishment of plantation companies.

33. 33 Allen Isaacman, “The Tradition of Resistance in Mozambique,” Africa Today 22, no. 3 (1975): 37–50.

34. 34 António Rita-Ferreira, Fixação Portuguesa e Hhistória Pré-colonial de Moçambique (Instituto de Investigação Científica Tropical, Junta de Investigações Científicas do Ultramar, 1983).

35. 35 Arlindo Chilundo, “Quando Começou o Comércio de Oleaginosas em Moçambique? Levantamento Estatístico da Produção e Exportação do Período 1850 e 1875,” Cadernos de História 7 (1998): 107–23, quoted in Negrão, “One Hundred,” 44.

36. 36 João Rodrigues Sequeira, “Palmares da Zambézia: A Sociétè du Madal (Fearnley. Bobone and Cie) Moçambique,” Moçambique Documentário Trimestral 38 (Abril–Junho 1944): 61–71; Vail and White, Capitalism; Negrão, “One Hundred”; Negrão, Cem Anos.

37. 37 César Brandão, “Baptismo em Moçambique: Uma Nota a Rufar,” Magazine, 27 April 2008, http://brando-magazine.blogspot.com/2008/08/baptismo-em-moambique-uma-nota-rufar.htm.

38. 38 Negrão, “One Hundred,” 62.

39. 39 Great Britain Naval Intelligence Division, A Manual of Portuguese East Africa (H. M. Stationary, 1920), 166, http://audio11-bu.archive.org/stream/cu31924028621286#page/n3/mode/2up.

40. 40 Brandão, “Baptismo.”

41. 41 Negrão, Cem Anos, 84–5.

42. 42 FRELIMO (Frente de Libertação de Moçambique) was established in 1962 as a merger of three nationalist movements—the Mozambique African National Union, the National African Union of Independent Mozambique, and the Democratic National Union of Mozambique—to fight against Portuguese colonialism in Mozambique. The movement waged a war against the Portuguese Army in 1964, which culminated with the signing of the Lusaka Accord in 1974 and the declaration of independence by FRELIMO in 1975.

43. 43 Pitcher, “Sobreviver.”

44. 44 The creation of RENAMO (Resistência Nacional Moçambicana) was allegedly attributed to Portuguese settlers and business people based either in Rhodesia or South Africa who had lost or were on the way to losing their investments in Mozambique due to the new government’s policies as well as to mercenaries, Black and white secret police agents, and former African members of the elite special forces of the Portuguese colonial army who had fled to Rhodesia after Mozambican independence. To this initial group was added the ex-FRELIMO guerrillas who had been expelled for corruption or had left because of unfulfilled personal ambitions. William Minter, “An Unfinished Journey,” in No Easy Victories: African Liberation and American Activists Over a Half Century, 1950–2000, ed. William Minter, Gail Hovey, and Charles Cobb Jr. (Africa World Press, 2007), 4, http://www.noeasyvictories.org/select/chap1_lead.php.

45. 45 1975 Constitution, arts. 12, 13, and 14.

46. 46 It is estimated that between 1977 and 1983, approximately 90 per cent of the total state agricultural investment was allocated to state-run farms, with only 2 per cent going to co-operatives, and negligible resources were directed toward household production. Marc Wuyts and Bridget O’Laughlin, “A Questão Agrária em Moçambique,” Estudos Moçambicanos 3, no. 3 (1981): 9–32.

47. 47 During the colonial and post-colonial periods, both Boror and Madal, which were French-owned companies, established themselves as the primary copra producers in the country. Adolphe Linder, Os Suíços em Moçambique (Arquivo Histórico de Moçambique, 2001).

48. 48 The nationalization of Boror was based on the accusation of its owners by the government of depleting the company’s capital, sabotaging equipment, destroying documents, and neglecting to pay employees, while the company’s managers were accused of smuggling copra out of the country. M. Anne Pitcher, Transforming Mozambique: The Politics of Privatisation, 1975–2000 (Cambridge University Press, 2002).

49. 49 Morten Rønning, Development or Exploitation? Grupo Madal in Mozambique (NorWatch, 2000).

50. 50 The exchange rate is taken from Conversão no Passado, accessed 21 January 2025, https://fxtop.com/pt/conversao-no-passado.php.

51. 51 This illustrates the pervasive promotion of gendered discriminatory policies and practices by colonial companies.

52. 52 During the 1980s, the conflict in Mozambique had escalated to a critical stage, with RENAMO gaining control over substantial parts of the country. This period was marked by the tragic loss of civilian lives, significant damage to economic infrastructure, and a massive displacement of people. According to Hanlon, “From a mid-1980s population of 13–15 million, one million people died (seven per cent of the population) and five million were displaced or made refugees in neighbouring countries (one-third of the population).” Joseph Hanlon, “Killing the Goose that Laid the Golden Eggs,” Moçambique On-line, September 21, 2001, http://www.mol.co.mz/noticias/metical/2001/en010921.html.

53. 53 Madal, Relatório de actividades (1987).

54. 54 For instance, one former minister of the FRELIMO socialist government became a manager of Madal at the beginning of the 1990s. Hanlon, “Killing.”

55. 55 Pitcher, “Sobreviver.”

56. 56 Rønning, Development.

57. 57 Rønning, 10.

58. 58 Joseph Hanlon, “Renewed Land Debate and the ‘Cargo Cult’ in Mozambique,” Journal of Southern African Studies 30, no. 3 (2004): 603–25; Joseph Hanlon, Understanding Land Investment Deals in Africa: Country Report: Mozambique (Oakland Institute, 2011).

59. 59 Ministry of Planning and Finance, Privatisation in Mozambique: On the Home Stretch in 1997 (Technical Unit for Enterprise Restructuring, 1997).

60. 60 Merle L. Bowen, “Beyond Reform: Adjustment and Political Power in Contemporary Mozambique,” Journal of Modern African Studies 30, no 2 (1992): 255–79; M. Anne Pitcher, “Recreating Colonialism or Reconstructing the State? Privatisation and Politics in Mozambique,” Journal of Southern African Studies 22, no. 1 (1996): 49–74; Ministry of Planning and Finance, Privatisation; Edward Lahiff, The Politics of Land Reform in Southern Africa: Sustainable Livelihoods in Southern Africa, Research Paper 19 (Institute of Development Studies, 2003).

61. 61 Bowen, “Beyond”; Pitcher “Recreating”; Joseph Hanlon, “Mozambique: ‘The War Ended 17 Years Ago, But We Are Still Poor,’” Conflict, Security & Development 10, no. 1 (2010): 77–102.

62. 62 Joseph Hanlon, The Land Debate in Mozambique: Will Foreign Investors, the Urban Elite, Advanced Peasants or Family Farmers Drive Rural Development? (Oxfam GB, Regional Management Centre for Southern Africa, 2002).

63. 63 Sergei Guriev and Andrei Rachinsky, “The Role of Oligarchs in Russian Capitalism,” Journal of Economic Perspectives 19, no. 1 (2005): 131–50.

64. 64 Hanlon, “Renewed,” 11.

65. 65 José Negrão, “Land in Africa: An Indispensable Element Towards Increasing the Wealth of the Poor,” Universidade de Coimbra: Oficina do Centro de Estudos Sociais 179 (2002): 1–21; Lahiff, The Politics.

66. 66 The campaign centred on the recognition of land possession rights without requiring a land title. It advocated for the state’s obligation to consult with rural dwellers before transferring land use and benefit rights to others, aimed at preventing land conflicts. Additionally, it proposed a system of land taxation based on the area’s size for commercial purposes and limited recognition of customary rights within constitutional principles, with a focus on defending women’s land rights. In essence, the goal was to ensure that every individual was well-informed about their rights and the procedures outlined in the new law. As a result, this movement came to be known as the “Land Campaign,” symbolizing the moment when the rural population regained control over their contributions to a national legislative act. José Negrão, “The Mozambican Land Campaign in Mozambique, 1997–1999,” paper presented at the Associative Movement of Mozambique, Maputo, December 1999, http://www.caledonia.org.uk/land/mozambiq.htm; José Negrão, “The Mozambican Land Campaign, 1997–1999” (paper presented at the Conference on the Associative Movement of Mozambique, Maputo, December 1999), http://www.caledonia.org.uk/land/mozambiq.htm; Negrão, “Land in Africa.”

67. 67 Hanlon, “Renewed.”

68. 68 Nazneen Kanji, Carla Braga, and Winnie Mitullah, Promoting Land Rights in Africa: How Do NGOs Make a Difference? (International Institute for Environment and Development, 2002).

69. 69 Law 19/97, art. 13, no. 5.

70. 70 Law 19/97, art. 15.

71. 71 Hanlon, “Renewed”; Tanner, “Law-Making,” 49.

72. 72 Hanlon, Understanding, 3.

73. 73 MINAG (Ministério da Agricultura), Plano Estratégico para o Desenvolvimento do Sector Agrário (PEDSA) 2011–2010 (MINAG, 2011).

74. 74 Joseph Hanlon, “Resposta às comunidades, doadores e investidores: Terra move-se para topo da agenda política,” Boletim Sobre o Processo Político em Moçambique 48, no. 1 (2011): 31.

75. 75 Hanlon, “Resposta.”

76. 76 The Malonda Foundation managed a substantial land area, encompassing over 75,591 hectares independently and an additional 210,000 hectares in partnership with Florestas de Niassa, a company owned by Rift Valley. Rift Valley, registered in Mauritius but based in Zimbabwe, had been controlling Madal since 2005 and owned 80 per cent of Florestas de Niassa, while Malonda held a 20 per cent stake.

77. 77 Hanlon, “Resposta.”

78. 78 “Segunda fase do PROAGRI vai custar 270 milhões de USD,” Notícias (Maputo),10 June 2004.

79. 79 The total land area of Mozambique is 80 million hectares, of which 15 million hectares are protected areas and 10 million hectares are municipalities and roads. Of the remaining 55 million hectares, only 36 million are potentially arable land. Hanlon, “Resposta.”

80. 80 Hanlon.

81. 81 Hanlon, Understanding, 14.

82. 82 Hanlon, 2.

83. 83 According to Hanlon, more than 10 per cent of Chikweti is owned by Mozambican stakeholders, including entities like the Anglican Diocese of Niassa (approximately 9 per cent), the Malonda Foundation, Eduardo Mondlane University, and individual Mozambicans. Hanlon, Understanding, 31.

84. 84 Hanlon, Understanding.

85. 85 Euclides Gonçalves, “Agricultural Corridors as ‘Demonstration Fields’: Infrastructure, Fairs and Associations Along the Beira and Nacala Corridors of Mozambique,” Journal of Eastern African Studies 14, no. 2 (2020): 454–74.

86. 86 Hanlon, Understanding, 2.

87. 87 Anna-Kaisa Kosenius, Matleena Kniivilä, Maja Pitiot, and Paula Horne, “Location of Forest Plantations in Mozambique: Gains and Losses in Water, Firewood and Land Availability,” Land Use Policy 88 (2019): 104–75, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.landusepol.2019.104175.

88. 88 Kosenius et al., “Location of Forest”; Leonor Serzedelo de Almeida and Christopher Delgado, The Plantation Forestry Sector in Mozambique: Community Involvement and Jobs (World Bank Group, 2019).

89. 89 Allen Isaacman et al., “‘Cotton Is the Mother of Poverty’: Peasant Resistance to Forced Cotton Production in Mozambique, 1938–1961,” International Journal of African Historical Studies 13, no. 4 (1980): 581–615; Joseph Hanlon, Mozambique: Who Calls the Shots? (Indiana University Press, 1991); Bowen, “Beyond.”

90. 90 For instance, see Isaacman et al., “‘Cotton.’”

91. 91 Carlos N. Castel-Branco, Economia Extractiva e Desafios de Industrialização em Moçambique (IESE, 2010); Hanlon, Understanding.