The rugged terrain and dense vegetation characterizing this vast region of the east African coast is just one reason that Mozambique has proven such a difficult country to unify. When the Portuguese explorer Vasca da Gama arrived in 1497, at least ten different ethnic groups exercised local control over various regions, some of them trading with Arabs along the Zambezi River, many answering to a then-fading Shona state. The Portuguese introduced a system of land-ownership--the prazos system--encouraging settlers to plant roots and protecting them with slave armies. Though the Portuguese faced many military setbacks at the hands of Africans, they gradually secured control over most of today's Mozambique and shipping many thousands of slaves to Brazil in the process. As the 20th century began, the Portuguese had established a cruel regime that saw no role for Africans other than as forced laborers, and did nothing to protect or nurture indigenous populations.

No surprise that the 1960s and `70s found Mozambique embroiled in a struggle for independence that was both sustained and bloody. When Samora Machel, then head of the FRELIMO independence fighters, emerged as president of a new country in 1974, he faced countless enemies, notably those in nervous and doomed white regimes in neighboring Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) and South Africa. Money and expertise from these and other regressive forces soon funded an insurgent force, RENAMO, which engaged FRELIMO in a pointless and destructive war that lasted until the early 1990s, leaving much of the country's limited infrastructure in ruins. With the fall of South Africa's apartheid regime, the situation changed radically. The engine that had powered Mozambique's civil war with money from Pretoria fell silent. Peace returned, national elections in 1994 and `99 affirmed the legitimacy of the FRELIMO government and discredited RENAMO, although the rebels made an impressive showing in the 1999 vote.

Today, despite economic challenges, ongoing political jitters and the disastrous floods of 1999, Mozambique is moving ahead. Its music industry is undeveloped, but its cultural riches are substantial, from the wild rhythms and buzzing melodies of Chopi timbila (wooden xylophone) orchestras, to the rich vocal harmonies of the Shangan people in the south, to a fragile but promising jazz and experimental music scene in the capital, Maputo. Few Mozambiquan acts have gained international attention, but now that the war is over, independent producers are at work to change that. Mabulu, a cross-generational group featuring seventy-something marabenta music veteran Lisboa Matavel and a group of much younger musicians, cranks out sweet local pop with a heavy dose of rumba, and now has an international release, Karimbo. Not yet on the global market, Kapa Dêch, a powerful young group with excellent rootsy grooves and strong vocal harmonies, has a hold on the Mozambiquan youth market.

Contributed by: Banning Eyre