Newest, Smallest

Gambia--not to be confused with Gabon or Zambia--last week became Africa's 37th country to gain its independence.

In ceremonies at the capital at Bathurst, the British formally turned over sovereignty to the continent's smallest nation, a wriggle of land 200 miles long and 15 to 30 miles wide situated on both sides of the lower Gambia River. Except for its coast, it is entirely surrounded by the former French colony of Senegal, and one British governor-general called Gambia "a geographic and economic absurdity." The British, who arrived in Gambia in the 16th century, repeatedly tried to trade it off to France in exchange for better land. It has no railway, no airline, not even an army. It has only one hotel, one airport, one fire engine--and only one cash crop, which is peanuts.

Enterprising traders do a brisk business smuggling cigarettes into neighboring West African countries through Gambia. The country imports enough cigarettes to supply 3 1/2 packs a day to each of its 316,000 men, women and children, but sporadic attempts to diversify the economy have ended in disaster. A mining scheme failed (no minerals); an ambitious shark fishery collapsed (no demand). The British government put $2,000,000 into a model poultry farm outside Bathurst, but disease and bad feed killed off the chick ens, and after production of 40,000 eggs--at $50 an egg--the farm was transformed into a teacher's college.

Despite its handicaps, Gambia's future is not unduly bleak. Premier David Kairaba Jawara, 41, a British-educated veterinarian ("There's not a cow in Gambia that doesn't know me personally") who turned to politics five years ago, is a no-nonsense democrat and competent administrator. He has already signed agreements with Senegal for mutual defense, economic cooperation and sharing of diplomatic missions. Solidly pro-British, he has also talked London into underwriting his tiny economy to the tune of $10 million over the next three years--and the U.S. has given $125,000 for agricultural and harbor development.

With a total tax revenue of less than $2,000,000 a year, Jawara has vetoed the usual symbols of African pretension and power. Parliament meets in the auditorium of the old colonial country club, and Jawara lives in a modest three-bedroom frame house, drives his own small Hillman Minx, and draws a salary of $7,400.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.