It is a familiar refrain among Malawian politicians to claim that Malawi and China once shared comparable GDP per capita figures back in 1964, yet have since charted remarkably divergent courses, culminating in two vastly different economic realities. One nation has risen to become an economic titan on the world stage, while the other remains mired in persistent and debilitating poverty. The implied narrative is clear: China has been masterfully governed, whereas Malawi has suffered grievous mismanagement.
However, to draw such a direct comparison between the two economies is, at best, a misleading oversimplification. Our political discourse often thrives on such distortions; invoking this comparison provides fertile ground to mislead the public and garner political advantage.
In 1964, China’s GDP per capita hovered between $100 and $125, whereas Nyasaland’s stood somewhat higher, at $150-$200. On the surface, this suggests that Nyasaland was the wealthier of the two. But does this superficial arithmetic stand up to scrutiny in real terms?
It is crucial to understand that while Nyasaland’s economy was modestly gaining momentum, China’s was grappling with a severe economic crisis. Indeed, China’s economy had collapsed two years prior, having borne the catastrophic consequences of the Great Leap Forward (1958–1962). This campaign, spearheaded by Chairman Mao Zedong, ambitiously sought to catapult China from a predominantly agrarian society to a modern, industrial socialist powerhouse. Tragically, it became one of history’s most devastating man-made disasters.
Mao’s bold initiative aimed to accelerate industrialisation and boost agricultural productivity through collectivisation, mobilising the entire nation in a concerted drive towards economic transformation. Framed as an endeavour to “walk on two legs” — developing agriculture and industry simultaneously — it instead precipitated profound economic regression. Agricultural output plunged to unprecedented lows, triggering the Great Famine of 1959 to 1961, during which an estimated 15 to 45 million souls perished. The push to produce steel in backyard furnaces yielded metal of such poor quality as to be virtually useless. By 1962, the combined collapse of agriculture and industry had brought the Chinese economy to the brink.
In stark contrast, Nyasaland enjoyed relative stability. Its recently monetised economy was nascent but taking root, albeit dominated by a small cadre of mostly foreign players.
However, the prospects for growth were vastly dissimilar. China possessed a broad and diverse economic base — spanning agriculture, industry, and mining — supported by a massive labour force. Nyasaland’s economy was small, narrowly focused on a handful of export crops such as tobacco, tea, and groundnuts, with scant industrial infrastructure and practically no manufacturing sector.
In terms of human capital, China boasted a long tradition of literacy and education, particularly in urban centres. Its population, estimated at some 700 million, comprised a vast reservoir of potential to drive both agricultural and industrial growth. Nyasaland, by contrast, suffered from extremely low literacy rates, with a tiny educated elite — so few that the number of graduates could be counted on one’s fingers — while much of its population comprised rural subsistence farmers.
Geopolitically, China was emerging as a formidable power, recognised as a vital actor in Asia and a strategic player in the Cold War dynamics. It received substantial aid and attention from both the Soviet and Western blocs. Nyasaland, by contrast, was a small, landlocked territory of limited strategic significance, heavily reliant on neighbouring white minority regimes for access to trade routes and employment opportunities.
Furthermore, China claimed a civilisation stretching back over four millennia, while Nyasaland was only beginning to emerge from a past marked by inter-ethnic discord. As Kamuzu Banda famously described it, Malawian society had been little more than “a collection of quarrelling tribes.” China’s ancient culture fostered a profound respect for education and meritocracy. Confucianism, dominant for over two thousand years, prized discipline, hard work, and learning, laying a deep cultural foundation essential for meritocratic economic development. China’s post-Mao emphasis on technical education was, therefore, not an abrupt innovation but a continuation of a longstanding tradition.
Unlike Malawi, China possessed an extensive historical legacy of trade and innovation. Ancient China was a global pioneer, inventing paper, printing, gunpowder, and the compass, and served as the central artery of the Silk Road for millennia. These formidable precedents smoothed China’s entry into global markets after 1978.
It is hardly surprising that today, 61 years later, China has made impressive economic strides while Malawi is still trapped in a cesspool of economic stagnation. That is not our destination, though.
To compare Malawi directly with China is, quite simply, a futile exercise. Instead, we ought to search within our unique endowments — the vast lake, fertile soils, newly discovered mineral wealth, among others — and strive to harness these assets to propel economic growth
