There is an often cited lacuna in textbook provision on the topic of African politics. There are a few notable exceptions (Government and Politics in Africa by Tordoff, Macmillan HE 2002; Routledge Handbook of African Politics by Cheeseman et al., Routledge 2005; An Introduction to African Politics by Thomson, Routledge 2016; amongst others), yet there remains space for texts in this area to take new and original approaches to the study of the continent. Or, more realistically, the study of certain aspects of a diverse and historically complex continent that has often been presented through a homogenising lens. As the authors of Inside African Politics recognise in the opening pages of this textbook, there are many problems associated with the way that the continent of Africa is engaged with, taught and written about. Among these is the fact that the ‘continent [is] often marginalised and its study frequently relegated to the periphery of knowledge about the world … [suffering] from people's limited knowledge of it being based on stereotypes, many informed by racist tropes and assumptions’ (1).

Yet, as they state early on, there are many reasons to grapple with African Politics. For instance, recentring the continent in our discussions of Politics and International Relations provides key lessons for understanding security, economics, growth, strategic relationships and broader questions of comparative politics. Inside African Politics provides a valuable jumping off point for students and scholars to do this – to engage with questions of statehood, identity, power, regime types, war and security through a lens that centres rather than marginalises the continent of Africa. Chapter 2's discussion of statehood, for example, avoids the trap of assuming states in Africa began at the point of Western colonisation. This textbook instead opens with discussions on the pre-colonial situation before continuing to colonisation, decolonisation and contemporary statehood. It does so through engagement with western scholarship on the nation state, often grounded in western experience. It asks questions not only about what, if anything, these models tell us about the continent but also how the continent challenges the models themselves.

However, there are scholars whose views I was surprised not to see discussed and engaged with within this text. For example, in the introduction, discussions of universalism could have been strengthened through engagement with key debates on the topic in African scholarship, in particular the work of Kwasi Wiredu and Kwame Gyekye. Similarly, engagement with the work of Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o would have added to the exploration of the topic of identity in the third chapter. I do recognise, however, that this may have been an issue partly of structure – the decision to approach this chapter thematically may have prevented engagement with some of these voices and this structure otherwise enables an impressive level of analysis within the confines of a textbook. In fact, overall the depth of engagement with key debates pushes beyond what is often found in a textbook, making this a book that is relevant not only to teaching but to broader scholarship and research as well.

The overall argument of the textbook, that ‘it would be a mistake to assume Africans are somehow marginal to, or even outside of, world affairs’ (344) should go without saying. Yet in a world in which perceptions of Africa and Africans are dominated by media-generated tropes and stereotypes this remains an important message. As such, a textbook like this one, that is able to challenge those tropes, to draw on pluralist approaches to scholarship, and to provide a challenging resource for students and scholars alike remains both necessary and valuable.