The mythic construction of power has the further advantage that rulers could dispense with any socio-political negotiation of meaning. What in other circumstances would appear as ordinary discourse, open to negotiation, is simply abstracted from the arena of daily interaction and endowed with a transcendence that emanates from the primordial past. Endowed with such mythic qualities, the authority of the Fon is not contested. No ordinary individual, no matter how wealthy, can become Fon.

The chiefs do not derive their authority solely from a material base but rather from ritual and moral authority supported and enhanced by a regulatory society. The latter, a male secret society, exercises multiple functions and is termed Kwifoyn in Kom, Kwifo' in Bafut, Ngumba in Bali, or Ngwerong in Nso'. Any violation of the sacred norms of the land, whether by junior or senior members of the chiefdom, could wrack havoc as the 'earth may pass judgment'. The threat of ritual sanctions constituted an effective safeguard against abuses of power. These various strands of authority gave meaning to the institution of chieftaincy and other traditional repositories of power.

The relationship between the Fon and his subjects may be characterized as one of interdependence. It is said that the Fon is only treated as such because he has people to rule. Kaberry (1950: 379) summarized this relationship as 'The Fon often says: 'what is Fon without people? I am in the hands of my people'; and the Nso' have two sayings that epitomize the conceptions of chieftainship : 'The Fon has everything; the Fon is a poor man' and 'the Fon rules the people, but the people hold the Fon'.' This relationship of interdependence has been much eroded as alternative sources of authority, both internal and external, compete for the regulation of community issues.

The internal challenge comes from the elite sons of the land who wish to have a greater say in local affairs. The old institutional framework that was built on hereditary titles has been considered by some as not responding to the changing power differentials in society.

Yet, a closer look reveals that beneath a rigid formal framework, local authorities have shown flexibility by creating non-hereditary titles based on merit that seek to co-opt rival sources of power. By so doing, some of the educated elite, holding office in public and corporate institutions, have been integrated into the local institutional framework. The elasticity of such recruitment (even sons of former slaves can be honoured with non-hereditary titles) is the price the traditional power brokers have paid to retain command over local affairs.

A second and more invidious challenge comes from the State and its bureaucratic elite. By Decree No. 77/245 of 15 July 1977, all 'traditional chiefs' have been turned into auxiliaries of the administration, and are therefore accountable to the Senior Divisional Officer of their area of jurisdiction. This statutory provision which enshrines the pre-eminence of the Senior Divisional Officer over the local chiefs has been strongly resisted. In a recent conflict between the Senior Divisional Officer of Bui Division and the paramount chief of Nso', the Senior Divisional Officer, issued the following order:

Art. 1 : That His Royal Highness the Fon of Nso ... is with effect from the date of signature of this order prohibited from entering the office and residence of the Senior Divisional Officer for Bui Division for continuous disrespect of the Senior Prefect of Bui since his assumption of duty at the Head of the Bui Administration on May 7th 1986.

Art. 2 : That His Royal Highness the Fon of Nso should with effect from the date of this order report all his administrative problems to his immediate boss, the Divisional Officer for Kumbo Central Sub-Division for appropriate solutions.

Art. 3 : That any violation of this Prefectorial Order by the Fon of Nso shall lead to serious administrative sanctions against him.' (Prefectorial Order No E26/78/RPB/RS/89 of 1/6/1989)

This order, shocking as it appears, did not even provoke the population to rise spontaneously to the defense of their ruler. In the late 1940s and 1950s, when Kaberry undertook fieldwork in Nso', such a move by the Senior Divisional Officer was unthinkable and could have sparked off immense civil unrest or rioting. The population would have risen as one in support of the Fon. As late as 1969, there were great riots in Nso' because a prince had been locked up by the police for social deviance.

This prefectorial order is clear evidence that the powers of the Fon are waning. The State is whittling down the powers of local chiefs. For example, officers from those regions where chieftaincies were a colonial creation are sent to administer local communities with well-established customary chiefs. For example, the Senior Divisional Officer who signed the Order intended to discipline the Fon of Nso' came from the Centre Province where most of the local chiefs were creations of the French colonial administration for fiscal collection and for the forced recruitment of labour under the indigènat system. Administrators from these areas are noted for their disrespect for local chiefs.

The marginalization of traditional authority has had a profound impact on the abilities of the Fon to claim ownership of all land under his jurisdiction. Since such claims were based on his political dominance, is he still justified in claiming that 'all this is my land'? In the large chiefdoms, those who exercised daily administration at the local level were the sub-chiefs and other title holders with powers delegated from the Fon. Are they still loyal and accountable to the Fon? The resurgent question is: who rules the land now?

As paramount, the Fon could exact from his subjects allegiance and tribute as a sign of their submission to him. This submission was clearly manifested by the payment of a tribute of allegiance (Aletum and Fisiy 1989) that included surrendering all 'royal game', such as python, leopard, and buffalo to the Fon. Also, as a sign of submission, local notables were expected to drink the Fon's wine of allegiance. All these practices are now on the decline. The Fon can be a very lonely person in his palace since it has ceased to be the main locus of politics and diplomacy.

Although Decree No 77/245 of 15 July 1977 provides a framework for the recognition of genuine sources of 'traditional rule', the law has tended to demystify the sacred nature of royalty by turning Fons into mere auxiliaries of the administration. Fons have now been rendered fully accountable to the administration at the Divisional level and this has reduced to their former 'despotic' powers. A Fon's installation now has to be ratified by an express note of administrative recognition before he can officially exercise any active role as an auxiliary of the administration. It is clear from this that the chieftaincy has been bureaucratized and reduced to the lower ranks of the administrative ladder. As subordinates in a hierarchical bureaucracy, Fons might suffer disciplinary sanction from low level bureaucrats (as in the case of Nso' quoted above), some of whom might be their own sons or daughters.

The 1977 Decree reveals the State's hegemonic project to co-opt traditional rule into an already burdensome bureaucracy. Subsequent classificatory decrees recognized five First Class Chiefdoms in the North-West Province - Bafut, Bali, Kom, Nso' and Mankon. Most other chiefs have been classified as Second Class or Third Class. Chiefs receive a monthly salary from the state in addition to a small commission from tax collections. This appears to be their primary source of income as tribute from their subjects is now rare.

Furthermore, in order to raise money, chiefs have been very willing to confer non-hereditary titles on businessmen and civil servants. This trend clearly signals the commodification of cultural symbols and artifacts. Formerly, these were accorded mythic and ritual connotations, but have now been transformed into commodities and circulate in a broader social context. The angry comments of one educated chief shed some light on the ambivalent expectations of the rulers. In response to the question as to why chiefs participated in partisan politics, he retorted by asking whether we (the elite sons of the land) expected them 'to sit in their palaces and dance to all visiting tourists and bureaucrats'? Additional factors have been significant in transforming the chieftaincy. In the colonial period, the selection of chiefs laid emphasis on time-tested initiation rites and cultural values of the people and did not emphasize knowledge of Western education. This changed in the 1970s and 1980s when it became fashionable to install well-educated princes who, it was believed, could blend the 'whiteman's way of life' with the local culture. Chiefs had to be literate in order to better perform the bureaucratic tasks expected of them.

This marked a turning point in the evolution of customary law. No longer adhered to conservatively, long-standing customary tenets were subjected to strict scrutiny and eventually modified. However, the dual requirements of maintaining 'tradition' and, at the same time, adapting customary rules to the changing social environment, have sent conflicting messages to the local community. The contemporary janus-faced ruler has to satisfy the cultural aspirations of his people while charting a new socio-political path for himself and his community. Some chiefs have sought to define a separate ritual space for dealing with communal interests, especially those associated with land tenure, while adopting an entirely different approach in dealings with the state.