The CARIBBEAN: PEOPLES, PROBLEMS, and PROSPECTS The CARIBBEAN: PEOPLES, PROBLEMS, and PROSPECTS The CARIBBEAN: PEOPLES, PROBLEMS, and PROSPECTS SERIES ONE VOLUME II SERIES ONE VOLUME II SERIES ONE VOLUME II A publication of the SCHOOL OF INTER-AMERICAN STUDIES which contains the papers delivered at the second annual conference on the Caribbean held at the University of Florida, December 6, 7, and 8, 1951. A publication of the SCHOOL OF INTER-AMERICAN STUDIES which contains the papers delivered at the second annual conference on the Caribbean held at the University of Florida, December 6, 7, and 8, 1951. A publication of the SCHOOL OF INTER-AMERICAN STUDIES which contains the papers delivered at the second annual conference on the Caribbean held at the University of Florida, December 6, 7, and 8,1951. ISSUED WITH ASSISTA N CE FR OM THE WALTER B. FRASER PUBLICATION FUND ISSUED WITH ASSISTANCE FROM THE WALTER B. FRAsER PUBLICATION FUND ISSUED WITH A8SSSTANCE FRaOM THE WALTER B. FRASER PUBLICATION FUND  MA MAMA GUFo ')CA IBA GFof C IB ANCA IBB A Guf GU Ff ' o --- - - P IFCEA PA IF IC EAP II  The CARIBBEBAN: PEOPLES, PROBLEMS, and PROSPECTS edited by A. Curtis Wilgus The CARIBBEAN: PEOPLES, PROBLEMS, and PROSPECTS edited by A. Curtis Wilgus The CARI BBEAN: PEOPLES, PROBLEMS, and PROSPECTS edited by A. Curtis WVilgus 1 °Fr 1962 UNIVERS ITY OF FLORIDA PRESS Gainesville 1962 UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA PRESS Gainesville 1962 UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA PRESS Gainesville Ufii"3iTy 07 ri WYA c r n UNIV~~g3J~~y a~ ~~LW?~A tr""""'T UVE SF ~ FUWAOU V.iT Nl a I"Sirr 5r =iIWA L, i . ~  Copyigh, 1952, by the UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA Copyright, 1952, by tSA UNIVFRSITY OF FLORIDA Copyrighl, 1952, by the UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA A University of Florida Press Book L. C. Cataologue Card NumberS.' 52-12530 FIRST FDITION, 1952 LITHOPRINTED EDITION, 1962 A UniIersity of Florida Press Book L. C. Catalogue Cad Number: 52-12530 A Univrsity of Florida Press Book L. C. Catalogue Card Number:IN 52-12530 FIRST EDITION, 1952 LITHIOPRINTED EDITION, 1962 FIRST EDITION, 1952 LITFHOPRINTED FDITION, 1962 LithpiFtAOd by LithopIrintd by Lihop-rintA by DOUGLAS PRINTING COMFANY', INC. JACKSONVILLE, FLORIDA DOFGLAS FRINTING COMPANY, INC. JACKSONVILLE, FLORIDA DODGLAS PRINTING COMFANY, INC. JACKSONVILLE , FLORIDA  Contributors Contributors Contributors FRANCISCO AGoUoRE, Secretary, Pan American Division, American Road Builders' Association FRANK K. BELL, Vice President, Alcoa Steamship Company W. H. CALLCOTr, Professor of History, University of South Carolina HARRIET DE ONIs, Translator and Author, New York City Josi GUzMAN BALDvIEso, Honorary Consul of Bolivia to Indiana and Kansas C. H. HARING, Professor of History, Harvard University JOHN P. HARRIsON, Latin American Specialist, National Archives MARK D. HOLws, Assistant Surgeon General, Public Health Service, Federal Security Agency MUNA LEE, Bureau of Inter-American Affairs, Department of State ALBERTo LLERAs, Secretary General, Pan American Union JAMEs G. MADDox, Assistant Director, American International Association for Economic and Social Development WILFRED O. MAUCK, Vice President, Institute of Inter-American Affairs, Educational Division J. HILUS MILsER, President, University of Florida Ross E. MOORE, Assistant Director, Office of Foreign Agricultural Relations, Department of Agriculture RAFAEL Picd, Chairman, Puerto Rico Planning Board WILuAM L. SCHURz, Professor of Area Studies and International Relations, American Institute for Foreign Trade FRED L. SOPER, Director, Pan American Sanitary Bureau Dors STONE, Archaeologist and Anthropologist, San Jos6, Costa Rico ARTURo ToaRes-RiosEco, Professor of Spanish, University of California FRANCISCO AGumRE, Secretary, Pan American Division, American Road Builders' Association FRANK K. BELL, Vice President, Alcoa Steamship Company W. H. CALLcorr, Professor of History, University of South Carolina HARRIET DE ONs, Translator and Author, New York City Josi GUzmn BALDvrEso, Honorary Consul of Bolivia to Indiana and Kansas C. H. HARING, Professor of History, Harvard University JOHN P. HARusoN, Latin American Specialist, National Archives MARK D. HoLs, Assistant Surgeon General, Public Health Service, Federal Security Agency MUNA LEE, Bureau of Inter-American Affairs, Department of State ALBERTo LLERAs, Secretary General, Pan American Union JAMEs G. MADDox, Assistant Director, American International Association for Economic and Social Development WILFRED O. MAucK, Vice President, Institute of Inter-American Affairs, Educational Division J. HiLis MILLER, President, University of Florida Ross E. MOORE, Assistant Director, Office of Foreign Agricultural Relations, Department of Agriculture RAFAEL Pico, Chairman, Puerto Rico Planning Board WILLUAM L. SCHURZ, Professor of Area Studies and International Relations, American Institute for Foreign Trade FRED L. SOPER, Director, Pan American Sanitary Bureau Doors STONE, Archaeologist and Anthropologist, San Jos6, Costa Rico ARTURO ToRREs-RIosEco, Professor of Spanish, University of California FRANcisco AGUIRRE, Secretary, Pan American Division, American Road Builders' Association FRANK K. BELL, Vice President, Alcoa Steamship Company W. H. CALLcorr, Professor of History, University of South Carolina HARRIET DE ONfs, Translator and Author, New York City Jossi GUzm BALDnv-Eso, Honorary Consul of Bolivia to Indiana and Kansas C. H. HARING, Professor of History, Harvard University JOHN P. HARRISON, Latin American Specialist, National Archives MARK D. HOLs, Assistant Surgeon General, Public Health Service, Federal Security Agency MUNA LEE, Bureau of Inter-American Affairs, Department of State ALBERTo LLERAs, Secretary General, Pan American Union JAMEs G. MADDox, Assistant Director, American International Association for Economic and Social Development WILFRED O. MAucK, Vice President, Institute of Inter-American Affairs, Educational Division J. HILus MILLER, President, University of Florida Ross E. MOORE, Assistant Director, Office of Foreign Agricultural Relations, Department of Agriculture RAFAEL PICd, Chairman, Puerto Rico Planning Board WILLAM L. SCHURz, Professor of Area Studies and International Relations, American Institute for Foreign Trade FRED L. SOPER, Director, Pan American Sanitary Bureau DoRIs STONE, Archaeologist and Anthropologist, San Jos6, Costa Rico ARTURo ToRREs-RIosECO, Professor of Spanish, University of California  Vi The Caribbean RaXFORo C. TUGWELL, Professor of Political Science, University of Chicago A. GUanoS WILGUS, Dieectoe, School of Inter-Amoerican Stodios, Uniersity of Floeida GORoE WresaE, Dieectoe, Amsericon Repuhlics Division, Depot- mcent of Commserce vi The Caribbean RaEORo C. TcGWELLo, Professor of Political Science, University of Chicago A. GonTIS WILGUS, Director, School of Inter-Amoerican Stadies, Univesity of Floeida CanOnG WYTHsH, Direcsoe, Atmerican Repohlics Division, Depot- moent of Commserce vi The Caribbean RaEORD C. TUELLs, Peofensor of Political Science, Uniersity of Chicago A. CenoS WILGUS, Diector, School of Inter-Amserican Stodies, Uniersity of Floeida GOnon Wa-ros, Dieectoe, Asmerican Repuhlics Divisin, Depaet- moentof Commoerce  Foreword Foreword Foreword THE CONSUMMATE importance of an ever increasing co- operation among the Americas, and of a wider appreciation by the United States of its responsibilities in the family of American republics, daily gains greater recognition. Events of the year past, during which the creeping paralysis of totalitarianism afflicted even more of the once-free world, leave no doubt in the mind of the thinking observer that the Americas must become more unified in thought and deed if the New World is to enjoy tomor- row, as today, the democratic way of life. In the spirit of service to this cause of unity among the Americas, the University of Florida each year sponsors an inter- American conference, bringing together area specialists and leaders from the ranks of business, government, and education to exchange views and information pertaining to the American republics. In December, 1950, the first of a new series of these scholarly con- ferences was held on our campus to examine "The Caribbean at Mid-Century." A volume bearing this title and containing the proceedings of this conference was published by the University of Florida Press in 1951. The papers which form the body of the present volume were delivered at the Second Annual Conference on the Caribbean, held at the University in December, 1951. Plans for a third meet- ing are well advanced as this volume goes to press, and it is the University's intent to continue these conferences so long as they remain useful to the cause to which they are dedicated. The University of Florida acknowledges its sincere appreciation to the Aluminum Company of America, through the Alcoa Steam- ship Company, Inc., for its cooperation in this conference. J. HILLS MILLER, President University of Florida THE CONSUMMATE importance of an ever increasing co- operation among the Americas, and of a wider appreciation by the United States of its responsibilities in the family of American republics, daily gains greater recognition. Events of the year past, during which the creeping paralysis of totalitarianism afflicted even more of the once-free world, leave no doubt in the mind of the thinking observer that the Americas must become more unified in thought and deed if the New World is to enjoy tomor- row, as today, the democratic way of life. In the spirit of service to this cause of unity among the Americas, the University of Florida each year sponsors an inter- American conference, bringing together area specialists and leaders from the ranks of business, government, and education to exchange views and information pertaining to the American republics. In December, 1950, the first of a new series of these scholarly con- ferences was held on our campus to examine "The Caribbean at Mid-Century." A volume bearing this title and containing the proceedings of this conference was published by the University of Florida Press in 1951. The papers which form the body of the present volume were delivered at the Second Annual Conference on the Caribbean, held at the University in December, 1951. Plans for a third meet- ing are well advanced as this volume goes to press, and it is the University's intent to continue these conferences so long as they remain useful to the cause to which they are dedicated. The University of Florida acknowledges its sincere appreciation to the Aluminum Company of America, through the Alcoa Steam- ship Company, Inc., for its cooperation in this conference. J. HILLsS MILLE, President University of Florida THE CONSUMMATE importance of an ever increasing co- operation among the Americas, and of a wider appreciation by the United States of its responsibilities in the family of American republics, daily gains greater recognition. Events of the year past, during which the creeping paralysis of totalitarianism afflicted even more of the once-free world, leave no doubt in the mind of the thinking observer that the Americas must become more unified in thought and deed if the New World is to enjoy tomor- row, as today, the democratic way of life. In the spirit of service to this cause of unity among the Americas, the University of Florida each year sponsors an inter- American conference, bringing together area specialists and leaders from the ranks of business, government, and education to exchange views and information pertaining to the American republics. In December, 1950, the first of a new series of these scholarly con- ferences was held on our campus to examine "The Caribbean at Mid-Century." A volume bearing this title and containing the proceedings of this conference was published by the University of Florida Press in 1951. The papers which form the body of the present volume were delivered at the Second Annual Conference on the Caribbean, held at the University in December, 1951. Plans for a third meet- ing are well advanced as this volume goes to press, and it is the University's intent to continue these conferences so long as they remain useful to the cause to which they are dedicated. The University of Florida acknowledges its sincere appreciation to the Aluminum Company of America, through the Alcoa Steam- ship Company, Inc., for its cooperation in this conference. J. HILLS MILLER, President University of Florida   Contents Contents Contents Map of Caribbean Area . . . . . . . . Frontispiece List of Contributors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . v Foreword-J. HILLIS MILLER . . . . . . . . . . . VD IntrOduction-A. CURTIS WILGUS . . . . . xi Part I-HEALTH Map of Caribbean Area . . . . . . . . . Frontispiece List of Contributors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . V Foreword-J. HILLIS MILLER . . . . . Vii Introduction-A. CURTIS WILGUS . . . . . . . . . xi Part I-HEALTH 1. Mark D. Hollis: ENVIRONMENTAL HEALTH NEEDS IN THE CARIBBEAN . . . . . . . . 2. Fred L. Soper: YELLOW FEVER IN THE CARIBBEAN . . 3. Jos6 Guzman Baldieieso: HEALTH PROBLEMS IN VENE- ZUELA AND BOLIVIA: A STUDY IN CONTRASTS ., Part II-LAND 4. James G. Maddox: THE MAJOR LAND UTILIZATION PROBLEMS OF THE CARIBBEAN AREA . . . . 5. Ross E. Moore: HUMAN FACTORS IN LAND UTILIZATION 6. Rafael Pir6: SURVEYING LAND USE IN PUERTO RICO Part III-TRADE 7. Francisco Aguirre: THE CARIBBEAN: HEART OF THE AMERICAS AND CENTER OF WORLD TRANSPORTATION , 8. Frank K. Bell: THE CARIBBEAN: AMERICA'S SECOND BEST CUSTOMER . THE 9. George Wythe: INTERNATIONAL TRADE IN THE CARIBBEAN AREA . ...... 3 13 18 27 44 54 1. Mark D. Hollis: ENVIRONMENTAL HEALTH NEEDS IN THE CARIBBEAN . . . . . . . . 2. Fred L. Soper: YELLOW FEVER IN THE CARIBBEAN . . 3. Jos6 Guzmin BaldiVieso: HEALTH PROBLEMS IN VENE. ZUELA AND BOLIVIA: A STUDY IN CONTRASTS Part II-LAND 4. James G. Maddox: THE MAJOR LAND UTILIZATION PROBLEMS OF THE CARIBBEAN AREA . . . 5. Ross E. Moore: HUMAN FACTORS IN LAND UTILIZATION 6. Rafael Pic6: SURVEYING LAND USE IN PUERTO RICO . . Map of Caribbean Area . . . . . . . . Frontispiece List of Contributors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . V Foreword-J. HILLIS MILLER. . . Vi Introduction-A. CURTIS WILGUS . . . . . . xi Part I-HEALTH 1. Mark D. Hollis: ENVIRONMENTAL HEALTH NEEDS IN THE CARIBBEAN..... 3 2. Fred L. Soper: YELLOW FEVER IN THE CARIBBEAN . . . 13 3. Jose Guzann BaldiVieso: HEALTH PROBLEMS IN VENE- ZUELA AND BOLIVIA: A STUDY IN CONTRASTS . . 18 Part 11-LAND 3 13 18 27 44 54 67 78 85 4. James G. Maddox: THE MAJOR LAND UTILIZATION PROBLEMS OF THE CARIBBEAN AREA . . . . 5. Ross E. Moore: HUMAN FACTORS IN LAND UTILIZATION 6. Rafael Pico: SURVEYING LAND USE IN PUERTO RICO . . 27 44 54 Part III-TRADE 7. Francisco Aguirre: THE CARIBBEAN: HEART OF THE 67 AMERICAS AND CENTER OF WORLD TRANSPORTATION 8. Frank K. Bell: THE CARIBBEAN: AMERICA'S SECOND 78 BEST CUSTOMER . . . . . . . 9. George Wytle: INTERNATIONAL TRADE IN THE 85 CARIBBEAN AREA .. . Part III-TRADE 7. Francisco Aguirre: THE CARIBBEAN: HEART OF THE AMERICAS AND CENTER OF WORLD TRANSPORTATION . 67 8. Frank K. Bell: THE CARIBBEAN: AMERICA'S SECOND BEST CUSTOMER . . . . . . . 78 9. George Wythe: INTERNATIONAL TRADE IN THE CARIBBEAN AREA . . . . . . . 85  The Caribbean The Caribbean 10. William L. Scharz FOREIGN CAPITAL INVESTMENT IN Part IV-CULTURE 96 10. William L. SchamI: FOREIGN CAPITAL INVESTMENT IN Part IV-CULTURE 96 I1. Mana Lop: ICIE EARLY CULTURAL RELATIONS IN THE CARIBBEAN. . . 117 12. Harrietde Onis: THIESHIORTESTORYINTHIE CARBBANTOAY. . . .123 13. Artaro Torros-Rioseco: SOCIAL EVOLUTION ONE THE MEXICAN NOVEL . . . 135 14. Doris StoeF:SCHOOLS THATLIVE . . . . 155 15. John P. HarsIER OPPORTUNITIES FOR INTER-AMERICAN SUISIN THE NOTIONAL ARCHIVES ... 162 11. Muna Lee: SOME EARLY CULTURAL RELATIONS IN THE CARIBBEAN. . . 117 12. Harriet deOnis: TOE SIBORT STO RY IN THE CARIBBEAN TODAY . . . . 123 13. Arturo Torres-Rioseco: SOCIAL EVOLUTION ONE TOE MEXICAN NOVEL . . . 135 14. Doris Stone:ESCIIOOLS THATLIVE .. . . . ..155 15. John P. Harrison: OPPORTUNITIES FOR INTER-AMSERICAN SUISIN THE NATIONAL AR CHIVES ... 162 x The Caribbean 10. William L. Schutz: FOREIGN CAPITAL. INVESTMENT IN THIECAIBBEAN. . . 96 Part IV-CULTURE 11. Mona Lrr: SOME EARLY CULTURAL RELATIONS IN THE CARIBBEAN. . . 117 12. Harriet de Dis: THEESHORT STORY IN THE CARIBBEAN TODAY . . . .123 13. Arturo Torres-RiosCoo: SOCI AL EVOLUTION ONE THEIEICAN NOVEL. . . 15 14. Doris Stoer: SCOOLS THAT LIVE .. . . . ..155 15. John P. Harrison: OPPORTUNITIES FOR INTER-AMERICAN SUISIN THE NOTIONAL AR CHIVES ... 162 Part V-DIPLOMACY Part V-DIPLOMACY 16. Rexford G. Tagwrll: CARIBEAN OBLIGATIONS. 17. C. H. Harintg: THE UNITEE STATES ANE ITTOSI 18. W. H. CallCOt: THE CA RIB BEAN: SPRINGBOARD FOR 19. Alserto LIlrras: THE ORGANIZATION OF AMERICAN STATES 20. Wilfred 0. MEaucI: TOE INSTITUTE OF INTER- AMRIANAFAIS 177 194 205 219 227 235 Part V-DIPLOMACY 16. Rexord G. Tagwrll: CARIBEAN OBLIGATIONS .- 17. C. H. Haring: THE UNITER STATES AND EICTATORSHIP 18. W. H. Callcott: THE CARIBREAN: SP'RINGBOARD FOR 19. Alberto Lleras: THE ORGANIZATION OF AMERICAN STATES 20. Wilfred 0. HaEBk: THE INSTITUTE OF INTER- AMERIAN..FAI.S. . . . 177 194 205 219 227 25 16. Rrexford G. Tugerll: CARIBBEAN OBLIGATIONS. . 17. C. H. Haring: THE UNITED STATES AND DICTATORSHIP 18. W. H. Cahoeots: THlE CARIBBEAN: SPRINGBOARE FOR 19. Alberto LIlFoal: THE ORGANIZATION OF AMERICAN STATES 20. Wilfred 0. HOSEk(: THE INSTITUTE OF INTER- AMRIANAFAISE 177 194 205 219 227 235  Introduction Introduction Introduction NO HISTORIAN is so clairvoyant that he can predict the future. He can, however, view in retrospect a panorama of past events-a chain of events, each a result of a pevious cause. To this extent he views the past with its own future. In this way he may look into the future and he may conclude that a certain set of past events may run through a series of predictable esults. But past history does not repeat itself. The Caribbean area viewed in retrospect as a human geo- graphical unit has a full record of a variety of events-political, economic, social, cultural, intellectual, religious. These events when placed together in proper sequence constitute a historical trend which leads definitely into the future. People have been acting more or less in the same way for centuries. That is part of human nature, which in the Caribbean has been running true to form for generations. And it probably will continue to run true to form in coming generations. Participants in this conference have been looking toward the past, and toward the future. They have viewed the Caribbean area in retrospect and in prospect. Let us look now for a moment at a number of events as the historian sees them-in retrospective perspective. L Health Not long ago we stood in a public park in a small town in Mexico. The weather was springlike. Innumerable people of various complexions came and went about their important busi- nesses. Some were businessmen. Some seemed to have no business at all. A few were sitting on the grass eating picnic lunches. It was the noon hour. In the center of the park a fountain was sending up a thin stream of water which looked clear and NO HISTORIAN is so clairvoyant that he can predict the future. He can, however, view in retrospect a panorama of past events-a chain of events, each a result of a previous cause. To this extent he views the past with its own future. In this way he may look into the future and he may conclude that a certain set of past events may run through a series of predictable esults. But past history does not repeat itself. The Caribbean area viewed in retrospect as a human geo- graphical unit has a full record of a variety of events-political, economic, social, cultural, intellectual, religious. These events when placed together in proper sequence constitute a historical trend which leads definitely into the future. People have been acting more or less in the same way for centuries. That is part of human nature, which in the Caribbean has been running true to form for generations. And it probably will continue to run true to form in coming generations. Participants in this conference have been looking toward the past, and toward the future. They have viewed the Caribbean area in retrospect and in prospect. Let us look now for a moment at a number of events as the historian sees them-in retrospective perspective. . Health Not long ago we stood in a public park in a small town in Mexico. The weather was springlike. Innumerable people of various complexions came and went about their important busi- nesses. Some were businessmen. Some seemed to have no business at all. A few were sitting on the grass eating picnic lunches. It was the noon hour. In the center of the park a fountain was sending up a thin stream of water which looked clear and NO HISTORIAN is so clairvoyant that he can predict the future. He can, however, view in retrospect a panorama of past events-a chain of events, each a result of a previous cause. To this extent he views the past with its own future. In this way he may look into the future and he may conclude that a certain set of past events may run thmugh a series of predictable results. But past history does not repeat itself. The Caribbean area viewed in retrospect as a human geo- graphical unit has a full record of a variety of events-political, economic, social, cultural, intellectual, religious. These events when placed together in proper sequence constitute a historical trend which leads definitely into the future. People have been acting more or less in the same way for centuries. That is part of human nature, which in the Caribbean has been running true to form for generations. And it probably will continue to run true to form in coming generations. Participants in this conference have been looking toward the past, and toward the future. They have viewed the Caribbean area in retrospect and in prospect. Let us look now for a moment at a number of events as the historian sees them-in retrospective perspective. I. Health Not long ago we stood in a public park in a small town in Mexico. The weather was springlike. Innumerable people of various complexions came and went about their important busi- nesses. Some were businessmen. Some seemed to have no business at all. A few were sitting on the grass eating picnic lunches. It was the noon hour. In the center of the park a fountain was sending up a thin stream of water which looked clear and  xii The Caribbean sparkling. But it fell into a large basin filled with leaves and sticks and other debris. As we watched, a small boy came to the fountain, sat on the edge, and dangled his feet in the water, splashing it about in all directions. A man with a dilapidated automobile got out a pail which he used to dip up water to carry to the radiator of his steaming car. Birds bathed themselves in the water. A dog came to drink. A passing urchin picked up a handful of dust and tossed it onto the surface of the water, watching it settle. As we looked, an old man, obviously an Indian, hobbled up to the edge of the fountain and put his hand into the water, splashing it to and fro. Soon he bent down, brushed aside the dirt on the water, and put his lips to the surface, taking a long drink from the fountain. While he was drinking, one of the picnickers brought a cup and plate to the fountain and washed them off. Soon a woman with a child came to the edge of the fountain. First she looked arnund her, then she dipped her hand into the water and washed the baby's face. We stood watching this scene for fully twenty minutes. In that time half a dozen people drank the water of the fountain. No one seemed to be disturbed by the fact that the water was dirty. Each brushed the dirt away and took a drink. This fountain in this Mexican village was obviously a place which had a variety of uses, depending upon the person who passed by. It was perfectly evident that these activities or similar ones had been going on for generations. It was only natural to consider that the fountain had been erected for the benefit of the citizens of this community. A similar phenomenon can be observed in other towns in Latin America. Even in localities where good drinking water has been provided, many of the local populace continue to use the public fountain. Public health had undoubtedly been affected by the presence of this fountain in the community. A culture habit has been developed upon which all our modern scientific notions and improvements have had no effect. It is a cultural pattern which, viewed from the present in retrospect, seems almost tragic. xii The Caribbean xii The Caribbean sparkling. But it fell into a large basin filled with leaves and sticks and other debris. As we watched, a small boy came to the fountain, sat on the edge, and dangled his feet in the water, splashing it about in all directions. A man with a dilapidated automobile got out a pail which he used to dip up water to carry to the radiator of his steaming car. Birds bathed themselves in the water. A dog came to drink. A passing urchin picked up a handful of dust and tossed it onto the surface of the water, watching it settle. As we looked, an old man, obviously an Indian, hobbled up to the edge of the fountain and put his hand into the water, splashing it to and fro. Soon he bent down, brushed aside the dirt on the water, and put his lips to the surface, taking a long drink from the fountain. While he was drinking, one of the picnickers brought a cup and plate to the fountain and washed them off. Soon a woman with a child came to the edge of the fountain. First she looked amund her, then she dipped her hand into the water and washed the baby's face. We stood watching this scene for fully twenty minutes. In that time half a dozen people drank the water of the fountain. No one seemed to be disturbed by the fact that the water was dirty. Each brushed the dirt away and took a drink. This fountain in this Mexican village was obviously a place which had a variety of uses, depending upon the person who passed by. It was perfectly evident that these activities or similar ones had been going on for generations. It was only natural to consider that the fountain had been erected for the benefit of the citizens of this community. A similar phenomenon can be observed in other towns in Latin America. Even in localities where good drinking water has been provided, many of the local populace continue to use the public fountain. Public health had undoubtedly been affected by the presence of this fountain in the community. A culture habit has been developed upon which all our modern scientific notions and improvements have had no effect. It is a cultural pattern which, viewed from the present in retrospect, seems almost tragic. sparkling. But it fell into a large basin filled with leaves and sticks and other debris. As we watched, a small boy came to the fountain, sat on the edge, and dangled his feet in the water, splashing it about in all directions. A man with a dilapidated automobile got out a pail which he used to dip up water to carry to the radiator of his steaming car. Birds bathed themselves in the water. A dog came to drink. A passing urchin picked up a handful of dust and tossed it onto the surface of the water, watching it settle. As we looked, an old man, obviously an Indian, hobbled up to the edge of the fountain and put his hand into the water, splashing it to and fin. Soon he bent down, brushed aside the dirt on the water, and put his lips to the surface, taking a long drink frwm the fountain. While he was drinking, one of the picnickers brought a cup and plate to the fountain and washed them off. Soon a woman with a child came to the edge of the fountain. First she looked around her, then she dipped her hand into the water and washed the baby's face. We stood watching this scene for fully twenty minutes. In that time half a dozen people drank the water of the fountain. No one seemed to be disturbed by the fact that the water was dirty. Each brushed the dirt away and took a drink. This fountain in this Mexican village was obviously a place which had a variety of uses, depending upon the person who passed by. It was perfectly evident that these activities or similar ones had been going on for generations. It was only natural to consider that the fountain had been erected for the benefit of the citizens of this community. A similar phenomenon can be observed in other towns in Latin America. Even in localities where good drinking water has been provided, many of the local populace continue to use the public fountain. Public health had undoubtedly been affected by the presence of this fountain in the community. A culture habit has been developed upon which all our modern scientific notions and improvements have had no effect. It is a cultural pattern which, viewed from the present in retrospect, seems almost tragic.  INTRODUCTION Xiii INTRODUCTION Xiii INTRODUCTION II. Land One bleak day we were driving along the Pan American Highway on the high antiplano of the Andes. The clouds seemed almost to touch the ground, and the wind whistled past in great streamers. Off to the right we saw a cloud of dust whirling toward us. We stopped, and soon out of the dust appeared a yoke of oxen drawing a wooden plow. The horns of the oxen were entwined with colored ribbons, mirrors, and tinsel blowing crazily in the breeze. The oxen moved in slow and heavy fashion. Behind the plow was an Indian who was doing his best to steer the wooden implement in a straight line. Alongside him and the oxen and following behind with shouts of joy were children and adults. It looked like a gala occasion. Marching along beside the plow was a priest. Someone was playing a flute, obviously for the purpose of making a noise rather than music. As we watched this scene it appeared that the priest was blessing the land and apparently sprinkling holy water on the newly plowed earth. There were no fences, and when the oxen came within a few feet of the road, several of the adults picked up the plow and headed it in the opposite direction while others tried to push and pull the oxen so that they would return from whence they had come. Land in this area is cheap. It is probable that the potato, or a branch of the potato family, was first developed in this region. Certainly it has been cultivated from early times to the present in the same fashion that is used today. But the potato, like the methods of cultivation, has undergone no improvement what- soever. The land produces little, and at times it produces noth- ing at all. Since human beings here are dependent upon what the land yields, there are intermittent years of starvation between the years when production rises slightly above the margin of starvation. But life goes on; babies are born and die. Land is cheap, though it is worth no more than it costs. Nature is often uncooperative and the elements often unfavorable. Hence the intercession of deity seems to be necessary. Superstitions re- garding land and its productive ability are commonly accepted characteristics of thinking in this region. Science, of course, is gradually coming to the help of such backward people. But H. Land One bleak day we were driving along the Pan American Highway on the high antiplano of the Andes. The clouds seemed almost to touch the ground, and the wind whistled past in great streamers. Off to the right we saw a cloud of dust whirling toward us. We stopped, and soon out of the dust appeared a yoke of oxen drawing a wooden plow. The horns of the oxen were entwined with colored ribbons, mirrors, and tinsel blowing crazily in the breeze. The oxen moved in slow and heavy fashion. Behind the plow was an Indian who was doing his best to steer the wooden implement in a straight line. Alongside him and the oxen and following behind with shouts of joy were children and adults. It looked like a gala occasion. Marching along beside the plow was a priest. Someone was playing a flute, obviously for the purpose of making a noise rather than music. As we watched this scene it appeared that the priest was blessing the land and apparently sprinkling holy water on the newly plowed earth. There were no fences, and when the oxen came within a few feet of the road, several of the adults picked up the plow and headed it in the opposite diretion while others tried to push and pull the oxen so that they would return from whence they had come. Land in this area is cheap. It is probable that the potato, or a branch of the potato family, was first developed in this region. Certainly it has been cultivated from early times to the present in the same fashion that is used today. But the potato, like the methods of cultivation, has undergone no improvement what- soever. The land produces little, and at times it produces noth- ing at all. Since human beings here are dependent upon what the land yields, there are intermittent years of starvation between the years when production rises slightly above the margin of starvation. But life goes on; babies are born and die. Land is cheap, though it is worth no more than it costs. Nature is often uncooperative and the elements often unfavorable. Hence the intercession of deity seems to be necessary. Superstitions re- garding land and its productive ability are commonly accepted characteristics of thinking in this region. Science, of course, is gradually coming to the help of such backward people. But II. Land One bleak day we were driving along the Pan American Highway on the high antiplano of the Andes. The clouds seemed almost to touch the ground, and the wind whistled past in great streamers. Off to the right we saw a cloud of dust whirling toward us. We stopped, and soon out of the dust appeared a yoke of oxen drawing a wooden plow. The horns of the oxen were entwined with colored ribbons, mirrors, and tinsel blowing crazily in the breeze. The oxen moved in slow and heavy fashion. Behind the plow was an Indian who was doing his best to steer the wooden implement in a straight line. Alongside him and the oxen and following behind with shouts of joy were children and adults. It looked like a gala occasion. Marching along beside the plow was a priest. Someone was playing a flute, obviously for the purpose of making a noise rather than music. As we watched this scene it appeared that the priest was blessing the land and apparently sprinkling holy water on the newly plowed earth. There were no fences, and when the oxen came within a few feet of the road, several of the adults picked up the plow and headed it in the opposite direction while others tried to push and pull the oxen so that they would return from whence they had come. Land in this area is cheap. It is probable that the potato, or a branch of the potato family, was first developed in this region. Certainly it has been cultivated from early times to the present in the same fashion that is used today. But the potato, like the methods of cultivation, has undergone no improvement what- soever. The land produces little, and at times it produces noth- ing at all. Since human beings here are dependent upon what the land yields, there are intermittent years of starvation between the years when production rises slightly above the margin of starvation. But life goes on; babies are born and die. Land is cheap, though it is worth no more than it costs. Nature is often uncooperative and the elements often unfavorable. Hence the intercession of deity seems to be necessary. Superstitions re- garding land and its productive ability are commonly accepted characteristics of thinking in this region. Science, of course, is gradually coming to the help of such backward people. But  xiv The Caribbean first they maust reatize that they cmast do somoething ta help themstelvet. Theta nature peehaps mitt smile mace frequently and mace effectively. Bat taday the reetpective panorama heme it hleah. III. Trade Teading in Laticn Ameelca it freauently a highly peetonaliced affaie. Whea ana teithet ta peepare a meal ace auaually gaet ta the pahblic maehet. Theta marhets vaty team townc ta tatec in alto acdqality andade. One hot, steaming day in aCetral Americaa coantry, wee accampaniedaaurhastetso aafaad-pechac- icgexcpeditian in the citycs maehet. First tae vicited the autdaoor stalls mheee people caatd cit in the hal tac or in the caal shade and hargain alt day tang. Dagt and chitdec teeeerywheme aoderata,each maingchaacteeisticcaisecacdeeacting cha- acceeitically ta the ecvicaromct. Ac me entered the huitding, tee sawe that the nareaoe aistes weree vietuatly faatpaths accopiod hy peaple and aimalsspatling oathe graund. Same individah were engaged in eating wehat appeaeed ta he a variety at refute. Atfetehadhbazierscantwhich meat and fiheecahig. The floar teat slippecy in a slimy tashian wteih piecec af decayed vegetahecand frait. Anaucoammotlycsteangstenchare frem the statts and haatht alang the aitlec. One hattett stapped heme andctheetlakhthe piceafaad. Occaioalyshe made a pachase, hat anty atter a vialent aegoment had entued oe the price. At ace haggled teith ace chapheepee, otheac in the vicinity scaeamed at the topt at theie eaicet ta came and hay theie tem. Peicet caeied teith differentcuttameet, dependicg laegeyaonhatetheyeeedessed. Fih acdmeatafall desceiptiao tee enpated ta the aie teheme thay lay an cocnteat or hang team hooks caveed teith flies and unidentifiable vermin. Cahet acdcoahiet disintegratedaondee the attachaficect. Candiet andeteeetc quietly melted in the heat. Theotacetaofthe pepe, taegety tndiaac, teee maeate and distetted. Onty the yaang peaple teemed to he enjaying themselvec. We hacteced an teem heath to hooch along htochs at aitlet, hatf-filted with humanity. Finatly, ace porchates complete, tee headed toe the open air and the tunlight. xtv The Caribbean fhem they matt realize that they moat do something to help chemsetves. Then noate peehapt mitt smile mace freqaently and mace effectively. Bat today the metrospective pacorama heme it hleak. 111. Trade Trading ic Latin America it feequently a highly pertonalized affair. Whec ace teishes to prepare a meal one usuatly goat to the puhlic marhet. Theta marhkets cor team toteo to toten in sizeand quality and odo. Oce hot, teaming day ina Cetal Americac coatry, tee accompacied ourehotessn a food-purchat- ing enpedition in the city's machat. First me visited the oatdoor statlt tehere paople coold cit in the hot can or in the coot shade and hargain all day long. Dogs and childen terce everytehere under foot, each mahing chaacteritic noises and reacting char- acterittically to the environment. At ma entered the haildiog, we sate that the narrom aisles were virtually taotpaths mcpied hy peopleand aimalscsprawlingonthe groand. Someaindividah tece engaged in eating tehat appeared to he a vaaiety at tefase. Atfetehadhbaziersonmwhich meat andiheecoohig. The floa teat slippery in a slimy fathion teith piecec at decayed vegetahles and frait. Ac uncomonly strocg ctench arose feam the ctalls and hoothc along the aislec. One hostest ttopped here and there to ash the price at toad. Occasiocally the made a parchae,hutonly atteaciolent agumenthad ensued over the price. At ace haggled teith ace shopheeper, otherc ic the vicinity screamed at the topt at their voicec to came and hay their tese. Pricascvaried teith different cutomers, depending larely on hate they teree dtessed. Pith and meats at all deciptiont maca epaced to the air wehee they lay on coun teat or hung team hooks coereed with fliac and unidentifiahle vermic. Cahesandecookiedisintegratedaunderetheantachatfintect. Candiet andtteeets quietly melted intheaheat. Thetface ofthe people, largely Indiant, tee macate and disteseced. Only the yog people teemed to ho enjoying themselves. We hattened on team hooth to hooch along htochs at aitlet, halt-fitted with humanity. Finally, oar poach aces complete, tee headed for the open ale and the sanlight. xiv The Caribbean first they must reatize chat they moot do something to help themselves. Thec natame peehapt mill smile more trequently and maollefectively. Bat codayp the retrocpective panorama heme it hleah. III. Trade Tradicg in Latin America it treqaently a highly personalized affle. When one withet to ptepare a meal one usually goat to the pahlic marhet. Theta markets vary team toten to toten in size and qality and odor. One hot, steaming day in a Central American ceonty,mweaccompaniedcaurhoteso aatod-puacha- log expedition in the city's machat. Firct tee cicited the outdoor stallc tehee people could cit in the hot cac or in the coal shade and hargain all day long. Dogs and childen mere everytehoe under loot, each mahing characteristic coises and reacting char- acterictically to the environment. Ac me entered the huilding, tee sate that the naowt aisles werce virtually tootpaths occupied hy people and aimals prawlinggan the groand. flame individuahs were engaged in eating tehat appeared to he a variety at eftaco. Ataewhadhbaaierseonmhich matand fiheecoohing. The floor teac slippery in a climy fathion teith piecec at decayed vegetalsaodtfrai. An ucomacanly strong clench arose team the ctalls and hooths along the aiclet. Our hostect ttopped heae and theme to aske the price of tood. Occacionally the made a puchace, hat only afer a violect argament had ensued over the price. Ac one haggled teith one chopheeper, otherc in the vtetnity screamed at the topt of their coicet to como and hay theta teaest. Pricec caled mith dillfeect cactomerc, depending largely en hate they terea dinnsed. Pith and meats at alt desccriptiont mace expaced to the air tehere they lay an counert orahungfrom hookhcoered ithfliesaduidniflecemin. Cahec and cohkiec disintegrated ander the attach of inceects. Candiec and sweeots quietly melted in the heat. The facescof the people, larely tndiant, terea macate and dictesttod. Only the yoacg people teemed to he enjoying themtelves. We hactened on team hooth to hooch along hloc at aitlec, halt-filled with hamanity. Finally, our pachacec complete, tee headed for the open air and the canlight.  INTRODUCTION XV INTRODUCTION XV INTRODUCTION XV Markets like these have been in existence since earliest colonial days. In some localities sanitary conditions have improved none at all; perhaps they have even become worse. Buying and selling activities continue as they have for centuries. At certain times of the day trade is brisk. On some days there is virtually no trade at all. Yet many of those who have produce to sell have come from miles away to the social center of the market place where their gossip substitutes for the newspaper, and public opinion is fickle and fluctuating. Thus, as one looks back at this and other markets in hundreds of Latin American communities, one wonders why large groups of the population have not been swept away by disease and plague. IV. Culture The scene is the plaza of a small Indian village in Yucatan. The noonday sun is hot. A microscopic breeze barely stirs the dust in the public square. Thousands of yellow butterflies are everywhere, and these and other insects go about their customary business in their own individual ways. Rangy, mangy dogs are listlessly sniffing the ground or lying in an apparent state of exhaustion in the dust of the road. On one side of the square near the corner is a white building. As one looks closely one sees that the roof is thatched and that the walls are made of mud covered with white- wash. On the side facing the square a door and two windows are visible. But these are closed. Above the door one makes out the word Escuela in small, faded pink letters. There seems to be a number also, which indicates that this school once had a prominent place in Mexican cultural life. We walk up to the entrance and try the door. It wobbles weakly on its hinge and opens with a groan. Inside it is dark. In a few seconds, however, we can see that this indeed has been a school. There are benches. There seem to be the remains of a desk and chair once used by the teacher. A piece of slate must have been a blackboard. But where are the children? Where is the teacher? What has happened to this school? We know that for a number of years, now, the government of Mexico has been building rural schools and encouraging the in- struction of the Indians, especially in reading and writing Spanish Markets like these have been in existence since earliest colonial days. In some localities sanitary conditions have improved none at all; perhaps they have even become worse. Buying and selling activities continue as they have for centuries. At certain times of the day trade is brisk. On some days there is virtually no trade at all. Yet many of those who have produce to sell have come from miles away to the social center of the market place where their gossip substitutes for the newspaper, and public opinion is fickle and fluctuating. Thus, as one looks back at this and other markets in hundreds of Latin American communities, one wonders why large groups of the population have not been swept away by disease and plague. IV. Culture The scene is the plaza of a small Indian village in Yucatan. The noonday sun is hot. A microscopic breeze barely stirs the dust in the public square. Thousands of yellow butterflies are everywhere, and these and other insects go about their customary business in their own individual ways. Rangy, mangy dogs are listlessly sniffing the ground or lying in an apparent state of exhaustion in the dust of the road. On one side of the square near the corner is a white building. As one looks closely one sees that the toof is thatched and that the walls are made of mud covered with white- wash. On the side facing the square a door and two windows are visible. But these are closed. Above the door one makes out the word Escuela in small, faded pink letters. There seems to be a number also, which indicates that this school once had a prominent place in Mexican cultural life. We walk up to the entrance and try the door. It wobbles weakly on its hinge and opens with a groan. Inside it is dark. In a few seconds, however, we can see that this indeed has been a school. There are benches. There seem to be the remains of a desk and chair once used by the teacher. A piece of slate must have been a blackboard. But where are the children? Where is the teacher? What has happened to this school? We know that for a number of years, now, the government of Mexico has been building rural schools and encouraging the in. struction of the Indians, especially in reading and writing Spanish Markets like these have been in existence since earliest colonial days. In some localities sanitary conditions have improved none at all; perhaps they have even become worse. Buying and selling activities continue as they have for centuries. At certain times of the day trade is brisk. On some days there is virtually no trade at all. Yet many of those who have produce to sell have come from miles away to the social center of the market place where their gossip substitutes for the newspaper, and public opinion is fickle and fluctuating. Thus, as one looks back at this and other markets in hundreds of Latin American communities, one wonders why large groups of the population have not been swept away by disease and plague. IV. Culture The scene is the plaza of a small Indian village in Yucatan. The noonday sun is hot. A microscopic breeze barely stirs the dust in the public square. Thousands of yellow butterflies are everywhere, and these and other insects go about their customary business in their own individual ways. Rangy, mangy dogs are listlessly sniffing the ground or lying in an apparent state of exhaustion in the dust of the road. On one side of the square near the corner is a white building. As one looks closely one sees that the roof is thatched and that the walls are made of mud covered with white- wash. On the side facing the square a door and two windows are visible. But these are closed. Above the door one makes out the word Escuela in small, faded pink letters. There seems to be a number also, which indicates that this school once had a prominent place in Mexican cultural life. We walk up to the entrance and try the door. It wobbles weakly on its hinge and opens with a groan. Inside it is dark. In a few seconds, however, we can see that this indeed has been a school. There ae benches. There seem to be the remains of a desk and chair once used by the teacher. A piece of slate must have been a blackboard. But where are the children? Where is the teacher? What has happened to this school? We know that for a number of years, now, the government of Mexico has been building rural schools and encouraging the in- struction of the Indians, especially in reading and writing Spanish  xvi The Caribbean and in working with their hands. But little evidence of this exists today in this little school beside the public square in the Yucatan village. We learn that the school has been closed for several years. The teacher has moved away. The children have gone uneducated. But nobody seems to miss the school. Life continues as it has since Mayan days. Across from the school there is a church which seems to be used only on Sundays. But even then there is no service in the church. In the home of one of the Indians beside the square is a weaving machine where native handicrafts aw practiced. We learn that only a few people in the community can read and write. No one apparently seems to mind that education here is at a standstill. It is quite possible that the Mayas, who occupied this awa ages ago, reached a higher cultural level than the people today. We can see in retrospect, as we view the nearby ruins of an ancient civilization, that this was once a thriving community and that the prospering people developed a comparatively high cultural pattern which their descendants have all but lost today. V. Diplomacy Hardly had we arrived at the airport of a thriving West Indian capital than we ralized that something was afoot. National flags were everywhere, furiously flapping in the trade winds. A radio was blaring martial music. People seemed to be in a gala mood. A boy was selling newspapers at the top of his voice. Was this a national holiday? Had a president been newly elected? Had some special divine blessing descended upon the country? On leav- ing the plane we learned that national troops had just avenged the national honor, insulted by foeigners moving across the com- mon boundary. The "invaders" had been repulsed. The national army had even crossed the border to follow the foreigners in defeat. This was indeed a day for universal rejoicing. When we arrived in town we saw what forms national rejoicing could take when a boundary dispute had been enthusiastically and joyfully terminated by military might. There was a fiesta spirit everywhere. Shops were closed. Many people were in the churches giving thanks to the deity for helping to repel the enemy. A military band was playing in the public square. Schools were xvi The Caribbean xvi The Caribbean and in working with their hands. But little evidence of this exists today in this little school beside the public square in the Yucatan village. We learn that the school has been closed for several years. The teacher has moved away. The children have gone uneducated. But nobody seems to miss the school. Life continues as it has since Mayan days. Across ftm the school there is a church which seems to be used only on Sundays. But even then there is no service in the church. In the home of one of the Indians beside the square is a weaving machine where native handicrafts ace practiced. We learn that only a few people in the community can read and write. No one apparently seems to mind that education here is at a standstill. It is quite possible that the Mayas, who occupied this area ages ago, reached a higher cultural level than the people today. We can see in retrospect, as we view the nearby ruins of an ancient civilization, that this was once a thriving community and that the prospering people developed a comparatively high cultural pattern which their descendants have all but lost today. V. Diplomacy Hardly had we arrived at the airport of a thriving West Indian capital than we ealized that something was afoot. National flags were everywhere, furiously flapping in the trade winds. A radio was blaring martial music. People seemed to be in a gala mood. A boy was selling newspapers at the top of his voice. Was this a national holiday? Had a president been newly elected? Had some special divine blessing descended upon the country? On leav- ing the plane we learned that national troops had just avenged the national honor, insulted by foreigners moving across the com- mon boundary. The "invaders" had been repulsed. The national army had even crossed the border to follow the foeigners in defeat. This was indeed a day for universal rejoicing. When we arrived in town we saw what forms national rejoicing could take when a boundary dispute had been enthusiastically and joyfully terminated by military might. There was a fiesta spirit everywhere. Shops were closed. Many people were in the churches giving thanks to the deity for helping to repel the enemy. A military band was playing in the public square. Schools were and in working with their hands. But little evidence of this exists today in this little school beside the public square in the Yucatan village. We learn that the school has been closed for several years. The teacher has moved away. The children have gone uneducated. But nobody seems to miss the school. Life continues as it has since Mayan days. Across from the school there is a church which seems to be used only on Sundays. But even then there is no service in the church. In the home of one of the Indians beside the square is a weaving machine where native handicrafts are practiced. We learn that only a few people in the community can read and write. No one apparently seems to mind that education here is at a standstill. It is quite possible that the Mayas, who occupied this area ages ago, reached a higher cultural level than the people today. We can see in retrospect, as we view the nearby ruins of an ancient civilization, that this was once a thriving community and that the prospering people developed a comparatively high cultural pattern which their descendants have all but lost today. V. Diplomacy Hardly had we arrived at the airport of a thriving West Indian capital than we realized that something was afoot. National flags were everywhere, furiously flapping in the trade winds. A radio was blaring martial music. People seemed to be in a gala mood. A boy was selling newspapers at the top of his voice. Was this a national holiday? Had a president been newly elected? Had some special divine blessing descended upon the country? On leav- ing the plane we learned that national troops had just avenged the national honor, insulted by foreigners moving across the com- mon boundary. The "invaders" had been repulsed. The national army had even crossed the border to follow the foreigners in defeat. This was indeed a day for universal rejoicing. When we arrived in town we saw what forms national rejoicing could take when a boundary dispute had been enthusiastically and joyfully terminated by military might. There was a fiesta spirit everywhere. Shops were closed. Many people were in the churches giving thanks to the deity for helping to repel the enemy. A military band was playing in the public square. Schools were  INTRODUCTION Xvii INTRODUCTION XVi INTRODUCTION closed, and students flooded the streets carrying banners and placards, and singing national songs. Orators on street corners were screaming defiance to the foreign invaders. The president- dictator soon proclaimed three days of rejoicing. The national honor had been vindicated. Let the invader return, and he would see what was in store for him! As objective observers of this scene, we inquired what had happened. Sifting the innumerable answers, we concluded that settlers from the neighboring country had been crossing the border for some time, possibly without realizing it, until their pres- ence had been magnified into an armed invasion, which must be repelled by force at all costs. Here was practical, personalized diplomacy at work. More often than not in a Latin American country bloodshed and tragedy have followed such events. As one looks back over the past century, one sees literally dozens of boundary disputes settled by threats, intimidation, and the use of arms. More than a hundred years ago Bolivar believed that such controversies were needless, and through unilateral under- standings and mutual cooperation, armed disputes over common boundaries could be prevented. In recent years statesmen in the United States and in Latin America have attempted thrmugh co- operation to prevent the repetition of such incidents as we observed in this nation of the West Indies. The retrospective view of boundary disputes shows that often they have proved disastrous, and have resulted in national calamities which could have been prevented by full and free mutual cooperation and the cultivation and maintenance of common friendships throughout the hemisphere. VI These somewhat discouraging vignettes of the problems of health, land, trade, culture, and diplomacy of the people in the Caribbean all have one thing in common. They have been witnessed by in- numerable observers over and over again in the past. They form a part of the intimate history of the Latin American republics and they constitute one of the mores of Latin American life. They rep- resent experiences common to millions of people in the past and they may possibly continue to be common to millions of people in the future. closed, and students flooded the streets carrying banners and placards, and singing national songs. Orators on street corners were screaming defiance to the foreign invaders. The president- dictator soon proclaimed three days of rejoicing. The national honor had been vindicated. Let the invader return, and he would see what was in store for him! As objective observers of this scene, we inquired what had happened. Sifting the innumerable answers, we concluded that settlers from the neighboring country had been crossing the border for some time, possibly without realizing it, until their pres- ence had been magnified into an armed invasion, which must be repelled by force at all costs. Here was practical, personalized diplomacy at work. More often than not in a Latin American country bloodshed and tragedy have followed such events. As one looks back over the past century, one sees literally dozens of boundary disputes settled by threats, intimidation, and the use of arms. More than a hundred years ago Bolivar believed that such controversies were needless, and through unilateral under- standings and mutual cooperation, armed disputes over common boundaries could be prevented. In recent years statesmen in the United States and in Latin America have attempted through co- operation to prevent the repetition of such incidents as we observed in this nation of the West Indies. The retrospective view of boundary disputes shows that often they have proved disastrous, and have resulted in national calamities which could have been prevented by full and free mutual cooperation and the cultivation and maintenance of common friendships throughout the hemisphere. VI These somewhat discouraging vignettes of the problems of health, land, trade, culture, and diplomacy of the people in the Caribbean all have one thing in common. They have been witnessed by in- numerable observers over and over again in the past. They form a part of the intimate history of the Latin American republics and they constitute one of the mores of Latin American life. They rep- resent experiences common to millions of people in the past and they may possibly continue to be common to millions of people in the future. closed, and students flooded the streets carrying banners and placards, and singing national songs. Orators on street corners were screaming defiance to the foreign invaders. The president- dictator soon proclaimed three days of rejoicing. The national honor had been vindicated. Let the invader return, and he would see what was in store for him! As objective observers of this scene, we inquired what had happened. Sifting the innumerable answers, we concluded that settlers from the neighboring country had been crossing the border for some time, possibly without realizing it, until their pres- ence had been magnified into an armed invasion, which must be repelled by force at all costs. Here was practical, personalized diplomacy at work. More often than not in a Latin American country bloodshed and tragedy have followed such events. As one looks back over the past century, one sees literally dozens of boundary disputes settled by threats, intimidation, and the use of arms. More than a hundred years ago Bolivar believed that such controversies were needless, and through unilateral under- standings and mutual cooperation, armed disputes over common boundaries could be prevented. In recent years statesmen in the United States and in Latin America have attempted through co- operation to prevent the repetition of such incidents as we observed in this nation of the West Indies. The retrospective view of boundary disputes shows that often they have proved disastrous, and have resulted in national calamities which could have been prevented by full and free mutual cooperation and the cultivation and maintenance of common friendships throughout the hemisphere. VI These somewhat discouraging vignettes of the problems of health, land, trade, culture, and diplomacy of the people in the Caribbean all have one thing in common. They have been witnessed by in- numerable observers over and over again in the past. They form a part of the intimate history of the Latin American republics and they constitute one of the mores of Latin American life. They rep- resent experiences common to millions of people in the past and they may possibly continue to be common to millions of people in the future.  xviii The Caribbean The experts participating in this conference have viewed the peoples and problems of the past in a retrospective fashion, and they have diagnosed what they have found with the object of suggesting cures. They have also looked toward the future and their pro- spective views of Caribbean problems seem to indicate that while much of the past is still a part of the present, the future will certainly be a period of change, improvement, and progress. The participants in this conference have not been unduly pessimistic, nor have they been overly optimistic. They have, however, at- tempted realistically to view the future in the light of the past and to see how present conditions can and will change. A retrospective view is necessary before prospects can be clearly seen. A. CURTIs WIouS, Director School of Inter-American Studies xviii The Caribbean xviii The Caribbean The experts participating in this conference have viewed the peoples and problems of the past in a retrospective fashion, and they have diagnosed what they have found with the object of suggesting cures. They have also looked toward the future and their pro- spective views of Caribbean problems seem to indicate that while much of the past is still a part of the present, the future will certainly be a period of change, improvement, and progress. The participants in this conference have not been unduly pessimistic, nor have they been overly optimistic. They have, however, at- tempted realistically to view the future in the light of the past and to see how present conditions can and will change. A retrospective view is necessary before prospects can be clearly seen. A. CUaRIS WILGUs, Director School of Inter-American Studies The experts participating in this conference have viewed the peoples and problems of the past in a retrospective fashion, and they have diagnosed what they have found with the object of suggesting cures. They have also looked toward the future and their pro- spective views of Caribbean problems seem to indicate that while much of the past is still a part of the present, the future will certainly be a period of change, improvement, and progress. The participants in this conference have not been unduly pessimistic, nor have they been overly optimistic. They have, however, at- tempted realistically to view the future in the light of the past and to see how present conditions can and will change. A retrospective view is necessary before prospects can be clearly seen. A. CUoRTs WILGUS, Director School of Inter-American Studies  Part I Part I Part I HEALTH HEALTH HEALTH   Mark D. Hollis: ENVIRONMENTAL HEALTH NEEDS IN THE CARIBBEAN M AY I SAY that it is a rare pleasure to be here today. The pleasure of attending this conference is all the greater because the business of public health has been put first on the program. It is always gratifying to find that others feel that the first order of business in any community program is to attend to the matter of public health. If it is a question of what comes first in the field of public health, of course, most of us would favor our own specialty. My doctrine is that a healthy environment is basic to any public health movement. There are many valuable specialized activities in publie health work, but in one way or another all are related to the basic environmental factors that sustain life. All are related to man's need for and man's use of air, water, food, and shelter. These needs are common to all people, whatever their birth, occupation, or status. The environmental health problems of some people may be more complicated than the problems of others, but their prob- lems do not differ basically. Basic environmental health needs for Brazil have been classified by Maria B. de Carvalho as water supply, sewerage and sewage treatment, waste and garbage disposal, drainage and reclamation, malaria control, and rural sanitation. These are basic environ- mental health operations that may be required also by peoples of the Caribbean or almost any other area, both in theory and in 3 Mark D. Hollis: ENVIRONMENTAL HEALTH NEEDS IN THE CARIBBEAN M AY I SAY that it is a rare pleasure to be here today. The pleasure of attending this conference is all the greater because the business of public health has been put first on the program. It is always gratifying to find that others feel that the first order of business in any community program is to attend to the matter of public health. If it is a question of what comes first in the field of public health, of course, most of us would favor our own specialty. My doctrine is that a healthy environment is basic to any public health movement. There are many valuable specialized activities in publie health work, but in one way or another all are related to the basic environmental factors that sustain life. All are related to man's need for and man's use of air, water, food, and shelter. These needs are common to all people, whatever their birth, occupation, or status. The environmental health problems of some people may be more complicated than the problems of others, but their prob- lems do not differ basically. Basic environmental health needs for Brazil have been classified by Maria B. de Carvalho as water supply, sewerage and sewage treatment, waste and garbage disposal, drainage and reclamation, malaria control, and rural sanitation. These are basic environ- mental health operations that may be required also by peoples of the Caribbean or almost any other area, both in theory and in 3 Mark D. Hollis: ENVIRONMENTAL HEALTH NEEDS IN THE CARIBBEAN MAY I SAY that it is a rare pleasure to be here today. The pleasure of attending this conference is all the greater because the business of public health has been put first on the program. It is always gratifying to find that others feel that the first order of business in any community program is to attend to the matter of public health. If it is a question of what comes first in the field of public health, of course, most of us would favor our own specialty. My doctrine is that a healthy environment is basic to any public health movement. There are many valuable specialized activities in publie health work, but in one way or another all are related to the basic environmental factors that sustain life. All are related to man's need for and man's use of air, water, food, and shelter. These needs are common to all people, whatever their birth, occupation, or status. The environmental health problems of some people may be more complicated than the problems of others, but their prob- lems do not differ basically. Basic environmental health needs for Brazil have been classified by Maria B. de Carvalho as water supply, sewerage and sewage treatment, waste and garbage disposal, drainage and reclamation, malaria control, and rural sanitation. These are basic environ- mental health operations that may be required also by peoples of the Caribbean or almost any other area, both in theory and in  4 The Caribbean practice. In speaking of environmental health needs, it is always a necessity to balance theory with practice. On the practical side of the balance, it is necessary to find money for health work. On the theoretical side of the balance, it is a question of under- standing what health measures are most effective. The first consideration in health work is not money, of course; it is life. But even life has its economic equations. Consider the issue of saving the lives of babies in a poor village where today half of the newborn children die before they are a year old. Some would say there would be little advantage in saving the lives of these children if they have to compete for a limited supply of food. This type of reasoning is that the extra mouths to feed would simply reduce the whole village to starvation. But it has been demonstrated that improvements in health also improve the ability to produce and procure food. And it appears also that the birth rate tends to drop as general living conditions impove, so that the population can level off eventually. The problem is to improve living conditions and the food supply as rapidly as health measures increase the population. Consider also the question of whether it is effective to apply public health measures to a limited aea. It seems almost a physical impossibility to control disease in every slum, every village, and every island. But it is equally difficult to prevent disease from spreading from infected areas to protected homes. Disease can be extremely democratic. It hits the rich as well as the poor. Infections today travel with the speed of airplanes, and reach from the public market place into secluded villages and estates. Quarantine services, to check the spread of disease, have limitations. The most effective defense against disease is sanitation services applied universally. Another question is whether it is effective to concentrate on specific diseases to eradicate yaws, venereal disease, and smallpox, without regard for general sanitary conditions. Granting the value of such categorical programs, more lives will be saved and strengthened if the health program directs its first efforts toward environmental sanitation. In most communities, contaminated food and water and diseases carried by insects are the major causes of illness and death. Sometimes it is a question of attacking an individual insect-borne 4 The Caribbean practice. In speaking of environmental health needs, it is always a necessity to balance theory with practice. On the practical side of the balance, it is necessary to find money for health work. On the theoretical side of the balance, it is a question of under- standing what health measures are most effective. The first consideration in health work is not money, of course; it is life. But even life has its economic equations. Consider the issue of saving the lives of babies in a poor village where today half of the newborn children die before they are a year old. Some would say there would be little advantage in saving the lives of these children if they have to compete for a limited supply of food. This type of reasoning is that the extra mouths to feed would simply reduce the whole village to starvation. But it has been demonstrated that improvements in health also improve the ability to produce and procure food. And it appears also that the birth rate tends to drop as general living conditions improve, so that the population can level off eventually. The problem is to improve living conditions and the food supply as rapidly as health measures increase the population. Consider also the question of whether it is effective to apply public health measures to a limited area. It seems almost a physical impossibility to control disease in every slum, every village, and every island. But it is equally difficult to prevent disease from spreading from infected areas to protected homes. Disease can be extremely democratic. It hits the rich as well as the poor. Infections today travel with the speed of airplanes, and reach from the public market place into secluded villages and estates. Quarantine services, to check the spread of disease, have limitations. The most effective defense against disease is sanitation services applied universally. Another question is whether it is effective to concentrate on specific diseases to eradicate yaws, venereal disease, and smallpox, without regard for general sanitary conditions. Granting the value of such categorical programs, more lives will be saved and strengthened if the health program directs its first efforts toward environmental sanitation. In most communities, contaminated food and water and diseases careied by insects are the major causes of illness and death. Sometimes it is a question of attacking an individual insect-borne 4 The Caribbean practice. In speaking of environmental health needs, it is always a necessity to balance theory with practice. On the practical side of the balance, it is necessary to find money for health work. On the theoretical side of the balance, it is a question of under- standing what health measures are most effective. The first consideration in health work is not money, of course; it is life. But even life has its economic equations. Consider the issue of saving the lives of babies in a poor village where today half of the newborn children die before they are a year old. Some would say there would be little advantage in saving the lives of these children if they have to compete for a limited supply of food. This type of reasoning is that the extra mouths to feed would simply reduce the whole village to starvation. But it has been demonstrated that improvements in health also improve the ability to produce and procure food. And it appears also that the birth rate tends to drop as general living conditions improve, so that the population can level off eventually. The problem is to improve living conditions and the food supply as rapidly as health measures increase the population. Consider also the question of whether it is effective to apply public health measures to a limited area. It seems almost a physical impossibility to control disease in every slum, every village, and every island. But it is equally difficult to prevent disease from spreading from infected areas to protected homes. Disease can be extremely democratic. It hits the rich as well as the poor. Infections today travel with the speed of airplanes, and reach from the public market place into secluded villages and estates. Quarantine services, to check the spread of disease, have limitations. The most effective defense against disease is sanitation services applied universally. Another question is whether it is effective to concentrate on specific diseases to eradicate yaws, venereal disease, and smallpox, without regard for general sanitary conditions. Granting the value of such categorical programs, more lives will be saved and strengthened if the health program directs its first efforts toward environmental sanitation. In most communities, contaminated food and water and diseases carried by insects are the major causes of illness and death. Sometimes it is a question of attacking an individual insect-borne  HEALTH 3 disease, such as malaria, yellow fever, Chagas disease, typhus, trachoma, or filariasis. Generally, it appears that it is more effective to aim at control of insects in strategic locations rather than at the control of individual diseases carried by insects. These remarks are not intended to deprecate the value of cate- gorical health programs. Such programs are effective. They have a great impact on opinion and on attitudes as well as on health, especially in communities which have had little previous acquaint- ance with the power of modern preventive medicine. But I do wish to make it clear that it has been firmly established that a categorical approach to disease is most successful in communities that observe sound environmental health practices. These questions are posed for those who wish to devote attention to the fundamentals rather than the refinements in environmental health. It is never easy to justify spending time and money on refinements when the great majority of the population live in open huts and when they do not even have access to a glass of clean water. In many a rural village, each morning at daybreak a family has a task of hauling water for as long as two hours before other work can begin. And even this water often comes from a polluted source, or is polluted in transit. In such a village, health work can be effective only if it starts with satisfying the fundamental need for clean water, safe disposal of human waste, and a protected food supply. II Health workers use several different approaches to determine a community's health needs: epidemiological studies; medical statis- tics; the advice of public health authorities; and the will of the people who are directly affected. Epidemiological studies have demonstrated that many diseases can be controlled effectively by environmental measures. You are all probably aware that hookworm is prevented by proper disposal of excrement. The trichinosis cycle is broken if hogs are not fed uncooked garbage or offal. Proper disposal of garbage and excre- ment reduces the breeding of flies and other insects which transmit a host of diseases, including trachoma, filariasis, and dysentery, particularly the dysenteries that affect babies. Filtering and chlo- HEALTH 3 disease, such as malaria, yellow fever, Chagas disease, typhus, trachoma, or filariasis. Generally, it appears that it is more effective to aim at control of insects in strategic locations rather than at the control of individual diseases carried by insects. These remarks are not intended to deprecate the value of cate- gorical health programs. Such programs are effective. They have a great impact on opinion and on attitudes as well as on health, especially in communities which have had little previous acquaint- ance with the power of modern preventive medicine. But I do wish to make it clear that it has been firmly established that a categorical approach to disease is most successful in communities that observe sound environmental health practices. These questions are posed for those who wish to devote attention to the fundamentals rather than the refinements in environmental health. It is never easy to justify spending time and money on refinements when the great majority of the population live in open huts and when they do not even have access to a glass of clean water. In many a rural village, each morning at daybrak a family has a task of hauling water for as long as two hours before other work can begin. And even this water often comes from a polluted source, or is polluted in transit. In such a village, health work can be effective only if it starts with satisfying the fundamental need for clean water, safe disposal of human waste, and a protected food supply. II Health workers use several different approaches to determine a community's health needs: epidemiological studies; medical statis- tics; the advice of public health authorities; and the will of the people who are diretly affected. Epidemiological studies have demonstrated that many diseases can be controlled effectively by environmental measures. You are all probably awam that hookworm is prevented by proper disposal of excrement. The trichinosis cycle is broken if hogs are not fed uncooked garbage or offal. Proper disposal of garbage and excre- ment reduces the breeding of flies and other insects which transmit a host of diseases, including trachoma, filariasis, and dysentery, particularly the dysenteries that affect babies. Filtering and chlo- HEALTH 3 disease, such as malaria, yellow fever, Chagas disease, typhus, trachoma, or filariasis. Generally, it appears that it is more effective to aim at control of insects in strategic locations rather than at the control of individual diseases carried by insects. These remarks are not intended to deprecate the value of cate- gorical health programs. Such programs are effective. They have a great impact on opinion and on attitudes as well as on health, especially in communities which have had little previous acquaint- ance with the power of modern preventive medicine. But I do wish to make it clear that it has been firmly established that a categorical approach to disease is most successful in communities that observe sound environmental health practices. These questions are posed for those who wish to devote attention to the fundamentals rather than the refinements in environmental health. It is never easy to justify spending time and money on refinements when the great majority of the population live in open huts and when they do not even have access to a glass of clean water. In many a rural village, each morning at daybreak a family has a task of hauling water for as long as two hours before other work can begin. And even this water often comes from a polluted source, or is polluted in transit. In such a village, health work can be effective only if it starts with satisfying the fundamental need for clean water, safe disposal of human waste, and a protected food supply. II Health workers use several different approaches to determine a community's health needs: epidemiological studies; medical statis- tics; the advice of public health authorities; and the will of the people who are directly affected. Epidemiological studies have demonstrated that many diseases can be controlled effectively by environmental measures. You are all probably aware that hookworm is prevented by proper disposal of excrement. The trichinosis cycle is broken if hogs are not fed uncooked garbage or offal. Proper disposal of garbage and excre- ment reduces the breeding of flies and other insects which transmit a host of diseases, including trachoma, filariasis, and dysentery, particularly the dysenteries that affect babies. Filtering and chlo-  6 The Caribbean rination of water reduce the danger of worms, typhoid fever, cholera, and dysentery. Pasteurization of milk, or the use of dry powdeed milk, reduces the danger of tuberculosis, brucellosis, and typhoid fever. Proper handling and storage of foods lessen the threat of gastroenteric infections or poisonings. Control of rats, rat fleas, and lice checks the danger of endemic typhus, epidemic typhus, and plague. Mosquito control reduces infections of yellow fever, dengue fever, malaria, and encephalitis. The disease named for the Brazilian physician Carlos Chagas is prevented by control of the biting bugs which carry the infection. Epidemiology blames malnutrition for another Caribbean disease that goes by many names. It particularly affects infants and chil- dren and is characterized by listlessness and irritability. The en- vironmental measures that combat malnutrition are improvements in the diet, such as are recommended by the Food and Agricultural Organization of the World Health Organization, and the sanita- tion that permits a community to produce more healthful food. For example, the control of malaria in Greece and other tropical areas has permitted the farmers there to bring in much heavier harvests. Of course, it is premature to speak with confidence about specific causes of malnutrition in the Caribbean countries. These causes, and the remedies, are under study at the University of Puerto Rico, which has published a handbook on tropical nutrition; at the Guatemala City laboratory of the Institute of Nutrition for Central America; and in the Section on Nutrition of the Pan American Sanitary Bureau. But it seems clear that the epidemiology of most of the diseases of the Caribbean emphasizes the basic importance of environmental health measures. Even those diseases not directly related to en- vironment are to some extent limited where the environment is clean and wholesome. Along with the epidemiological studies, statistical studies help to explain which health conditions are in most urgent need of atten- tion. As I have said, statistics indicate that the most common cause of death in many Caribbean communities is disease that is caused typically by contaminated food or drinking water. Now there is no denying that many of the Caribbean countries have achieved remarkable advances in recent years in the development of water supplies. Local efforts in this direction have been assisted 6 The Caribbean rination of water reduce the danger of worms, typhoid fever, cholera, and dysentery. Pasteurization of milk, or the use of dry powdered milk, reduces the danger of tuberculosis, brucellosis, and typhoid fever. Proper handling and storage of foods lessen the threat of gastrenteric infections or poisonings. Control of rats, rat fleas, and lice checks the danger of endemic typhus, epidemic typhus, and plague. Mosquito control reduces infections of yellow fever, dengue fever, malaria, and encephalitis. The disease named for the Brazilian physician Carlos Chagas is prevented by control of the biting bugs which carry the infection. Epidemiology blames malnutrition for another Caribbean disease that goes by many names. It particularly affects infants and chil- dren and is characterized by listlessness and irritability. The en- vironmental measures that combat malnutrition are improvements in the diet, such as are recommended by the Food and Agricultural Organization of the World Health Organization, and the sanita- tion that permits a community to produce more healthful food. For example, the control of malaria in Greece and other tropical areas has permitted the farmers there to bring in much heavier harvests. Of course, it is premature to speak with confidence about specific causes of malnutrition in the Caribbean countries. These causes, and the remedies, are under study at the University of Puerto Rico, which has published a handbook on tropical nutrition; at the Guatemala City laboratory of the Institute of Nutrition for Central America; and in the Section on Nutrition of the Pan American Sanitary Bureau. But it seems clear that the epidemiology of most of the diseases of the Caribbean emphasizes the basic importance of environmental health measures. Even those diseases not directly related to en- vironment are to some extent limited where the environment is clean and wholesome. Along with the epidemiological studies, statistical studies help to explain which health conditions are in most urgent need of atten- tion. As I have said, statistics indicate that the most common cause of death in many Caribbean communities is disease that is caused typically by contaminated food or drinking water. Now there is no denying that many of the Caribbean countries have achieved remarkable advances in recent years in the development of water supplies. Local efforts in this direction have been assisted 6 The Caribbean rination of water reduce the danger of worms, typhoid fever, cholera, and dysentery. Pasteurization of milk, or the use of dry powdered milk, reduces the danger of tuberculosis, brucellosis, and typhoid fever. Proper handling and storage of foods lessen the threat of gastroenteric infections or poisonings. Control of rats, rat fleas, and lice checks the danger of endemic typhus, epidemic typhus, and plague. Mosquito control reduces infections of yellow fever, dengue fever, malaria, and encephalitis. The disease named for the Brazilian physician Carlos Chagas is prevented by control of the biting bugs which carry the infection. Epidemiology blames malnutrition for another Caribbean disease that goes by many names. It particularly affects infants and chil- dren and is characterized by listlessness and irritability. The en- vironmental measures that combat malnutrition are improvements in the diet, such as are recommended by the Food and Agricultural Organization of the World Health Organization, and the sanita- tion that permits a community to produce more healthful food. For example, the control of malaria in Greece and other tropical areas has permitted the farmers there to bring in much heavier harvests. Of course, it is premature to speak with confidence about specific causes of malnutrition in the Caribbean countries. These causes, and the remedies, are under study at the University of Puerto Rico, which has published a handbook on tropical nutrition; at the Guatemala City laboratory of the Institute of Nutrition for Central America; and in the Section on Nutrition of the Pan American Sanitary Bureau. But it seems clear that the epidemiology of most of the diseases of the Caribbean emphasizes the basic importance of environmental health measures. Even those diseases not directly related to en- vironment are to some extent limited where the environment is clean and wholesome. Along with the epidemiological studies, statistical studies help to explain which health conditions are in most urgent need of atten- tion. As I have said, statistics indicate that the most common cause of death in many Caribbean communities is disease that is caused typically by contaminated food or drinking water. Now there is no denying that many of the Caribbean countries have achieved remarkable advances in recent years in the development of water supplies. Local efforts in this direction have been assisted  HEALTH / by the formation of the Pan American Sanitary Bureau by treaty among American republics in 1902, by the Rio Conference of January, 1942, when twenty-one nations planned health operations as a phase of hemisphere defense, and by the activities of the Institute of Inter-American Affairs and of the World Health Organization. In eighteen or more American republics, health programs have been organized by the Institute of Inter-American Affairs for direction by a Servicio Cooperativo Inter-Americano, concentrating on the construction of health centers, including hospitals and dispensaries, development of water and sewage systems, malaria controls, and education. Other programs have developed in Caribbean territories under European governments. The extent of the sanitation task is typified perhaps by con- ditions in Puerto Rico, of which I happen to have some first- hand knowledge. Most of the urban population has a central water supply. But two-thirds of the Puerto Rican population live in rural amas. And only one-fourth of this rural population is supplied by the Puerto Rican Aqueduct and Sewer Authority, although two-thirds of the Puerto Rican rural population are within mach of the water lines. But it is not necessary for these villagers to wait for expensive installations fmm the central system. A simple well, with a pump properly constructed, would be a vast improvement over their present system and it would cost less than water of questionable quality obtained from pesent sources. Despite the progress that has been made under such organ- izations as the Puerto Rican Aqueduct and Sewer Authority, the Department of Hydraulic Resources in Mexico, the United Fruit Company, and other agencies, the statistics of morbidity and of water and sewage works indicate that safe, clean water supplies ae still the most critical environmental health problem of the Caribbean areas. It may be that the statistics are far from complete or perfect, but they suggest this provisional conclusion. A third approach to environmental health needs is to study the statements of scientific authorities and political leaders. One such statement worth quoting is by The Honorable Miguel Alemin, President of the United States of Mexico: "The fundamental duty of a government that strives for the development and progress of its nation is to prevent, rather than try to cure, endemic diseases HEALTH / by the formation of the Pan American Sanitary Bureau by treaty among American republics in 1902, by the Rio Conference of January, 1942, when twenty-one nations planned health operations as a phase of hemisphere defense, and by the activities of the Institute of Inter-American Affairs and of the World Health Organization. In eighteen or moe American republics, health programs have been organized by the Institute of Inter-American Affairs for direction by a Servicio Cooperativo Inter-Americano, concentrating on the construction of health centers, including hospitals and dispensaries, development of water and sewage systems, malaria controls, and education. Other programs have developed in Caribbean territories under European governments. The extent of the sanitation task is typified perhaps by con- ditions in Puerto Rico, of which I happen to have some first- hand knowledge. Most of the urban population has a central water supply. But two-thirds of the Puerto Rican population live in rural areas. And only one-fourth of this rural population is supplied by the Puerto Rican Aqueduct and Sewer Authority, although two-thirds of the Puerto Rican rural population are within each of the water lines. But it is not necessary for these villagers to wait for expensive installations from the central system. A simple well, with a pump properly constructed, would be a vast improvement over their present system and it would cost less than water of questionable quality obtained from present sources. Despite the progress that has been made under such organ- izations as the Puerto Rican Aqueduct and Sewer Authority, the Department of Hydraulic Resources in Mexico, the United Fruit Company, and other agencies, the statistics of morbidity and of water and sewage works indicate that safe, clean water supplies are still the most critical environmental health problem of the Caribbean areas. It may be that the statistics are far from complete or perfect, but they suggest this pmvisional conclusion. A third approach to environmental health needs is to study the statements of scientific authorities and political leaders. One such statement worth quoting is by The Honorable Miguel Alemin, Pesident of the United States of Mexico: "The fundamental duty of a government that strives for the development and progress of its nation is to prevent, rather than try to cure, endemic diseases HEALTH I by the formation of the Pan American Sanitary Bureau by treaty among American republics in 1902, by the Rio Conference of January, 1942, when twenty-one nations planned health operations as a phase of hemisphere defense, and by the activities of the Institute of Inter-American Affairs and of the World Health Organization. In eighteen or more American republics, health programs have been organized by the Institute of Inter-American Affairs for direction by a Servicio Cooperativo Inter-Americano, concentrating on the construction of health centers, including hospitals and dispensaries, development of water and sewage systems, malaria controls, and education. Other pograms have developed in Caribbean territories under Eumpean governments. The extent of the sanitation task is typified perhaps by con- ditions in Puerto Rico, of which I happen to have some first- hand knowledge. Most of the urban population has a central water supply. But two-thirds of the Puerto Rican population live in rural areas. And only one-fourth of this rural population is supplied by the Puerto Rican Aqueduct and Sewer Authority, although two-thirds of the Puerto Rican rural population are within reach of the water lines. But it is not necessary for these villagers to wait for expensive installations from the central system. A simple well, with a pump properly constructed, would be a vast improvement over their present system and it would cost less than water of questionable quality obtained from present sources. Despite the progress that has been made under such organ- izations as the Puerto Rican Aqueduct and Sewer Authority, the Department of Hydraulic Resources in Mexico, the United Fruit Company, and other agencies, the statistics of morbidity and of water and sewage works indicate that safe, clean water supplies are still the most critical environmental health problem of the Caribbean areas. It may be that the statistics are far from complete or perfect, but they suggest this provisional conclusion. A third approach to environmental health needs is to study the statements of scientific authorities and political leaders. One such statement worth quoting is by The Honorable Miguel Aleman, President of the United States of Mexico: "The fundamental duty of a government that strives for the development and progress of its nation is to prevent, rather than try to cure, endemic diseases  8 The Caribbean of its peoples. The water and sewerage works of all municipalities constitute the basic element in the fight against disease." Another authority is the World Health Organization. Its official record (18-72) in 1949 states: "No permanent advance in the general health program can rest upon a substructure of poor sani- tation. Any improvement in the disposal of excreta, in the pro- tection of drinking water, and the destruction of the fly and the mosquito brings health and social advantage to man, woman, and child." A year earlier, the chronicles of the first health assembly of the World Health Organization (2-177) reported the statement that, with certain qualifications, nutrition was the most important single environmental factor in health. It is observed that malnu- trition prejudices the health of 85 per cent of the population of the world. These two statements on environmental sanitation and nutrition remind us that disease and famine ride together as the horsemen of the apocalypse. As late as June, 1944, Colonel Harold B. Gotaas was obliged to say that in general "sanitary engineering has not yet played an important part in public health work in Latin America." One reason, he said, was that it was given little emphasis in social thinking. Another reason was the scarcity of engineers, which I am sorry to say continues to this day. To overcome some of the personnel problems, Colonel Gotaas this year helped to organize training courses for sanitary engineers at the University of Mexico. Several Latin American universities have courses for sanitary engi- neers. Another training program is promised for 1953 in Panama, where the World Health Organization intends to conduct a course for operators of waterworks in Central America. An outstanding influence in environmental health work has been the organization of the Inter-American Association of Sanitary Engineers, which reported at its second meeting in 1950 in Mexico City that it already has 1,489 members with national sections in eighteen coun- tries. With preper support this organization could be a great influence on environmental health progress in the Americas. I would like to quote one more authority, Herman G. Baity, professor of Sanitary Engineering in the School of Public Health, University of North Carolina, who spoke last month at a meeting of the World Health Organization in Geneva: 8 The Caribbean 8 The Caribbean of its peoples. The water and sewerage works of all municipalities constitute the basic element in the fight against disease." Another authority is the World Health Organization. Its official record (18-72) in 1949 states: "No permanent advance in the general health program can rest upon a substructure of poor sani- tation. Any improvement in the disposal of excreta, in the pro- tection of drinking water, and the destruction of the fly and the mosquito brings health and social advantage to man, woman, and child." A year earlier, the chronicles of the first health assembly of the World Health Organization (2-177) reported the statement that, with certain qualifications, nutrition was the most important single environmental factor in health. It is observed that malnu- trition prejudices the health of 85 per cent of the population of the world. These two statements on environmental sanitation and nutrition remind us that disease and famine ride together as the horsemen of the apocalypse. As late as June, 1944, Colonel Harold B. Gotaas was obliged to say that in general "sanitary engineering has not yet played an important part in public health work in Latin America." One reason, he said, was that it was given little emphasis in social thinking. Another reason was the scarcity of engineers, which I am sorry to say continues to this day. To overcome some of the personnel problems, Colonel Gotaas this year helped to organize training courses for sanitary engineers at the University of Mexico. Several Latin American universities have courses for sanitary engi- neers. Another training program is promised for 1953 in Panama, where the World Health Organization intends to conduct a course for operators of waterworks in Central America. An outstanding influence in environmental health work has been the organization of the Inter-American Association of Sanitary Engineers, which reported at its second meeting in 1950 in Mexico City that it already has 1,489 members with national sections in eighteen coun- tries. With proper support this organization could be a great influence on environmental health progress in the Americas. I would like to quote one more authority, Herman G. Baity, professor of Sanitary Engineering in the School of Public Health, University of North Carolina, who spoke last month at a meeting of the World Health Organization in Geneva: of its peoples. The water and sewerage works of all municipalities constitute the basic element in the fight against disease." Another authority is the World Health Organization. Its official record (18-72) in 1949 states: "No permanent advance in the general health program can rest upon a substructure of poor sani- tation. Any improvement in the disposal of excreta, in the pro- tection of drinking water, and the destruction of the fly and the mosquito brings health and social advantage to man, woman, and child." A year earlier, the chronicles of the first health assembly of the World Health Organization (2-177) reported the statement that, with certain qualifications, nutrition was the most important single environmental factor in health. It is observed that malnu- trition prejudices the health of 85 per cent of the population of the world. These two statements on environmental sanitation and nutrition remind us that disease and famine ride together as the horsemen of the apocalypse. As late as June, 1944, Colonel Harold B. Gotaas was obliged to say that in general "sanitary engineering has not yet played an important part in public health work in Latin America." One reason, he said, was that it was given little emphasis in social thinking. Another reason was the scarcity of engineers, which I am sorry to say continues to this day. To overcome some of the personnel problems, Colonel Gotaas this year helped to organize training courses for sanitary engineers at the University of Mexico. Several Latin American universities have courses for sanitary engi- neers. Another training program is promised for 1953 in Panama, where the World Health Organization intends to conduct a course for operators of waterworks in Central America. An outstanding influence in environmental health work has been the organization of the Inter-American Association of Sanitary Engineers, which reported at its second meeting in 1950 in Mexico City that it already has 1,489 members with national sections in eighteen coun- tries. With proper support this organization could be a great influence on environmental health progress in the Americas. I would like to quote one more authority, Herman G. Baity, professor of Sanitary Engineering in the School of Public Health, University of North Carolina, who spoke last month at a meeting of the World Health Organization in Geneva:  HEALTH 9 HEALTH 9 HEALTH Among preventive measures the most effective, the quickest, the cheapest is basic sanitation of the environment. By this we mean those simple, elemental things such as getting human excrement off the surface of the ground, giving the people clean water to drink and uninfected food to eat, and protecting them from the bites of disease-carrying insects. First things should core first. One of the practical problems of public health administration at all levels, and affecting all professions, is to keep people down to earth and doing the fundamental things. This is as true of engi- neers as of the medicos, and not materially different south or north of the equator. We find people who know all about electronics and supersonics and radio-isotopes and complex formulae who feel that it is not dignified or professional to work in any- thing less than palatial offices and ultra-laboratories on high-flown theoretical problems, and who decline to see and do the simple and vital things that count most. It would provide a most helpful orientation for public health workers the world around if they could understand the logical steps by which human betterment takes place. It has now been well demonstrated in many places that the beginning point in human progress is in the sanitary improvement of the environment. This sets in motion a chain reaction which first produces an improve- ment in health, then economic development, and then the social and spiritual betterment of the people. III As one reviews the literature on environmental health activities in the Caribbean countries, it becomes clear that there has been a semarkable degree of flexibility on the part of the official agen- cies and that they have adapted their ideas to local requirements. This adaptability is illustrated by the work which has been done in Panama to develop water supplies by digging horizontal wells in a terrain which is particularly suited to that form of construction. In Venezuela, malaria control has moved far ahead of other environmental health measures and the death rate there for malaria has been reduced from 112 per 100,000 befose the war to only 12 per 100,000 in 1948. In Guatemala, an urgent need for healthful housing is in the foreground, and in El Salvador, sewage treatment is prominent. Among preventive measures the most effective, the quickest, the cheapest is basic sanitation of the environment. By this we mean those simple, elemental things such as getting human excrement off the surface of the ground, giving the people clean water to drink and uninfected food to eat, and protecting them from the bites of disease-carrying insects. First things should come first. One of the practical problems of public health administration at all levels, and affecting all professions, is to keep people down to earth and doing the fundamental things. This is as true of engi- neers as of the medicos, and not materially different south or north of the equator. We find people who know all about electronics and supersonics and radio-isotopes and complex formulae who feel that it is not dignified or professional to work in any- thing less than palatial offices and ultra-laboratories on high-flown theoretical problems, and who decline to see and do the simple and vital things that count most. It would provide a most helpful orientation for public health workers the world around if they could understand the logical steps by which human betterment takes place. It has now been well demonstrated in many places that the beginning point in human progress is in the sanitary improvement of the environment. This sets in motion a chain eaction which first produces an improve- ment in health, then economic development, and then the social and spiritual betterment of the people. III As one reviews the literature on environmental health activities in the Caribbean countries, it becomes clear that there has been a remarkable degree of flexibility on the part of the official agen- cies and that they have adapted their ideas to local requirements. This adaptability is illustrated by the work which has been done in Panama to develop water supplies by digging horizontal wells in a terrain which is particularly suited to that form of construction. In Venezuela, malaria control has moved far ahead of other environmental health measures and the death rate there for malaria has been reduced from 112 per 100,000 before the war to only 12 per 100,000 in 1948. In Guatemala, an urgent need for healthful housing is in the foreground, and in El Salvador, sewage treatment is prominent. Among preventive measures the most effective, the quickest, the cheapest is basic sanitation of the environment. By this we mean those simple, elemental things such as getting human excrement off the surface of the ground, giving the people clean water to drink and uninfected food to eat, and protecting them from the bites of disease-carrying insects. First things should come first. One of the practical problems of public health administration at all levels, and affecting all professions, is to keep people down to earth and doing the fundamental things. This is as true of engi- neers as of the medicos, and not materially different south or north of the equator. We find people who know all about electronics and supersonics and radio-isotopes and complex formulae who feel that it is not dignified or professional to work in any- thing less than palatial offices and ultra-laboratories on high-flown theoretical problems, and who decline to see and do the simple and vital things that count most. It would provide a most helpful orientation for public health workers the world around if they could understand the logical steps by which human betterment takes place. It has now been well demonstrated in many places that the beginning point in human progress is in the sanitary improvement of the environment. This sets in motion a chain reaction which first produces an improve- ment in health, then economic development, and then the social and spiritual betterment of the people. III As one reviews the literature on environmental health activities in the Caribbean countries, it becomes clear that there has been a remarkable degree of flexibility on the part of the official agen- cies and that they have adapted their ideas to local requirements. This adaptability is illustrated by the work which has been done in Panama to develop water supplies by digging horizontal wells in a terrain which is particularly suited to that form of construction. In Venezuela, malaria control has moved far ahead of other environmental health measums and the death rate there for malaria has been reduced from 112 per 100,000 before the war to only 12 per 100,000 in 1948. In Guatemala, an urgent need for healthful housing is in the foreground, and in El Salvador, sewage teatment is prominent.  10 The Caribbean This adaptability and flexibility reflects the fourth approach to health needs-the democratic approach. The democratic approach does not begin and end with the business of counting noses and accepting a formal majority vote. The possible error in that idea was expressed by Leonardo da Vinci, who poked fun at the notion that, though a wise man may make mistakes, a thousand fools cannot be wrong. The democratic approach must be based first of all upon devotion to the general welfare, a genuine devotion and not one that pretends that a selfish interest and the general welfare are one and the same thing. The test of the reality of this devotion to the general welfare is the readiness of the majority to participate in and support a given program, not merely with votes and lip-service but with deeds. The complaint has been made against some communities that after the professional engineer has installed a water system, the system is not maintained or operated effectively. To me, this complaint is not a criticism of the community. It is a criticism of the failure of health workers to understand in advance the need for educating and training local people to carry on the work in sanitation. The installation of water- works equipment is neither a beginning nor an end in sanitation: it is only one phase of a continuing process. This process includes the task of demonstrating that sanitation is desirable, and also of demonstrating that it pays. Two engineers, Luis Wonnoni and Edmund G. Wagner, in Venezuela have calculated the monetary value of safe water systems in that country and the savings such systems will effect for the people of the communities. These savings not only repay the cost of construction but increase the per capita water supply from ten to seventy-five liters per day. The savings are based both upon the reduction of working time lost because of illness and on the reduction of the daily costs of obtaining a supply of water. The estimate of reduction in illness was based upon the experience of the United States of America. Between 1900 and 1940, while the proportion of our population receiving safe water supplies increased from 40 per cent to 90 per cent, the incidence of water- borne disease was reduced 90 per cent. Dr. M. von Pettenkofer once calculated that sanitation saved the city of Munich 25,000,000 florins in twenty-five years, and that was at a time when a florin would buy as much sausage as a 10 The Caribbean 10 The Caribbean This adaptability and flexibility reflects the fourth approach to health needs-the democratic approach. The democratic approach does not begin and end with the business of counting noses and accepting a formal majority vote. The possible error in that idea was expressed by Leonardo da Vinci, who poked fun at the notion that, though a wise man may make mistakes, a thousand fools cannot be wrong. The democratic approach must be based first of all upon devotion to the general welfare, a genuine devotion and not one that pretends that a selfish interest and the general welfare are one and the same thing. The test of the reality of this devotion to the general welfare is the readiness of the majority to participate in and support a given program, not merely with votes and lip-service but with deeds. The complaint has been made against some communities that after the professional engineer has installed a water system, the system is not maintained or operated effectively. To me, this complaint is not a criticism of the community. It is a criticism of the failure of health workers to understand in advance the need for educating and training local people to carry on the work in sanitation. The installation of water- works equipment is neither a beginning nor an end in sanitation: it is only one phase of a continuing process. This process includes the task of demonstrating that sanitation is desirable, and also of demonstrating that it pays. Two engineers, Luis Wonnoni and Edmund G. Wagner, in Venezuela have calculated the monetary value of safe water systems in that country and the savings such systems will effect for the people of the communities. These savings not only repay the cost of construction but increase the per capita water supply from ten to seventy-five liters per day. The savings are based both upon the reduction of working time lost because of illness and on the reduction of the daily costs of obtaining a supply of water. The estimate of reduction in illness was based upon the experience of the United States of America. Between 1900 and 1940, while the proportion of our population receiving safe water supplies increased from 40 per cent to 90 per cent, the incidence of water- borne disease was rduced 90 per cent. Dr. M. von Pettenkofer once calculated that sanitation saved the city of Munich 25,000,000 florins in twenty-five years, and that was at a time when a florin would buy as much sausage as a This adaptability and flexibility reflects the fourth approach to health needs-the democratic approach. The democratic approach does not begin and end with the business of counting noses and accepting a formal majority vote. The possible error in that idea was expressed by Leonardo da Vinci, who poked fun at the notion that, though a wise man may make mistakes, a thousand fools cannot be wrong. The democratic approach must be based first of all upon devotion to the general welfare, a genuine devotion and not one that pretends that a selfish interest and the general welfare are one and the same thing. The test of the reality of this devotion to the general welfare is the readiness of the majority to participate in and support a given program, not merely with votes and lip-service but with deeds. The complaint has been made against some communities that after the professional engineer has installed a water system, the system is not maintained or operated effectively. To me, this complaint is not a criticism of the community. It is a criticism of the failure of health workers to understand in advance the need for educating and training local people to carry on the work in sanitation. The installation of water- works equipment is neither a beginning nor an end in sanitation: it is only one phase of a continuing process. This process includes the task of demonstrating that sanitation is desirable, and also of demonstrating that it pays. Two engineers, Luis Wonnoni and Edmund G. Wagner, in Venezuela have calculated the monetary value of safe water systems in that country and the savings such systems will effect for the people of the communities. These savings not only repay the cost of construction but increase the per capita water supply from ten to seventy-five liters per day. The savings are based both upon the reduction of working time lost because of illness and on the reduction of the daily costs of obtaining a supply of water. The estimate of reduction in illness was based upon the experience of the United States of America. Between 1900 and 1940, while the proportion of our population receiving safe water supplies increased from 40 per cent to 90 per cent, the incidence of water- borne disease was reduced 90 per cent. Dr. M. von Pettenkofer once calculated that sanitation saved the city of Munich 25,000,000 florins in twenty-five years, and that was at a time when a florin would buy as much sausage as a  HEALTH 11 HEALTH 11 HEALTH 11 dollar buys today. Such studies as these supported by fact help a community to understand that it can and it should support sound health programs. The democratic approach requires also a constant review and revision of health programs. Those responsible for administering health programs must be alert to keep ahead of new health problems that develop with the changing technology, or with changing population patterns. At the same time, they must not lose sight of the need for carrying on the health pro- grams that have been well established. In the United States, for example, we have on the one hand an emerging concern with the increasing uses of synthetic chemicals, the increase in pollution of the atmosphere, and the potential danger of ionizing radiations from radiation-producing machines and from man-made radio- isotopes. At the same time, we have to get on with the unfinished business of basic sanitation. A critical appraisal of the status of environmental health in the United States will observe that in the larger cities progress in basic sanitation has kept pace reasonably well with national growth. The quality of public water supplies, extent of sewerage services, and suppression of disease-carrying insects generally are satisfactory; at least the gross health implications of these environmental factors have been brought under control. To a much lesser extent have been met the national need in milk and food sanitation, control of excessive stream pollution, and sanitation of metropolitan fringe areas. Similarly in need of improvement are the sanitation services for schools, smaller communities, and rural areas. As yet un- diagnosed is the full health significance of substandard housing, excessive noise, refuse disposal problems, inadequate recreational facilities, and air pollution. IV This appraisal makes it clear that the task of sanitation never ends. As countries progress, their health programs simply take on new aspects and new responsibilities. All of us in our respective countries must bear in mind the necessity of changing with the times to serve the total health needs of all the people. Only with that attitude is it possible to keep driving ahead of problems in each area of need. dollar buys today. Such studies as these supported by fact help a community to understand that it can and it should support sound health programs. The democratic approach requires also a constant review and revision of health programs. Those responsible for administering health programs must be alert to keep ahead of new health problems that develop with the changing technology, or with changing population patterns. At the same time, they must not lose sight of the need for carrying on the health pro- grams that have been well established. In the United States, for example, we have on the one hand an emerging concern with the increasing uses of synthetic chemicals, the increase in pollution of the atmosphere, and the potential danger of ionizing radiations from radiation-producing machines and from man-made radio- isotopes. At the same time, we have to get on with the unfinished business of basic sanitation. A critical appraisal of the status of environmental health in the United States will observe that in the larger cities progress in basic sanitation has kept pace reasonably well with national growth. The quality of public water supplies, extent of sewerage services, and suppression of disease-carrying insects generally are satisfactory; at least the gross health implications of these environmental factors have been brought under control. To a much lesser extent have been met the national need in milk and food sanitation, control of excessive stream pollution, and sanitation of metropolitan fringe areas. Similarly in need of improvement are the sanitation services for schools, smaller communities, and rural areas. As yet un- diagnosed is the full health significance of substandard housing, excessive noise, refuse disposal problems, inadequate recreational facilities, and air pollution. IV This appraisal makes it clear that the task of sanitation never ends. As countries progress, their health programs simply take on new aspects and new responsibilities. All of us in our respective countries must bear in mind the necessity of changing with the times to serve the total health needs of all the people. Only with that attitude is it possible to keep driving ahead of problems in each area of need. dollar buys today. Such studies as these supported by fact help a community to understand that it can and it should support sound health programs. The democratic approach requires also a constant review and revision of health programs. Those responsible for administering health programs must be alert to keep ahead of new health problems that develop with the changing technology, or with changing population patterns. At the same time, they must not lose sight of the need for carrying on the health pro- grams that have been well established. In the United States, for example, we have on the one hand an emerging concern with the increasing uses of synthetic chemicals, the increase in pollution of the atmosphere, and the potential danger of ionizing radiations from radiation-producing machines and from man-made radio- isotopes. At the same time, we have to get on with the unfinished business of basic sanitation. A critical appraisal of the status of environrpental health in the United States will observe that in the larger cities progress in basic sanitation has kept pace reasonably well with national growth. The quality of public water supplies, extent of sewerage services, and suppression of disease-carrying insects generally are satisfactory; at least the gross health implications of these environmental factors have been brought under control. To a much lesser extent have been met the national need in milk and food sanitation, control of excessive stream pollution, and sanitation of metropolitan fringe areas. Similarly in need of improvement are the sanitation services for schools, smaller communities, and rural areas. As yet un- diagnosed is the full health significance of substandard housing, excessive noise, refuse disposal problems, inadequate recreational facilities, and air pollution. IV This appraisal makes it clear that the task of sanitation never ends. As countries progress, their health programs simply take on new aspects and new responsibilities. All of us in our respective countries must bear in mind the necessity of changing with the times to serve the total health needs of all the people. Only with that attitude is it possible to keep driving ahead of problems in each area of need.  12 The Caribbean That attitude is implicit in the democratic approach. It recog- nizes that officials working on public health and preventive medicine share their responsibilities with all the people. There is still a great deal of truth in the old axiom that a sound public health program provides 80 per cent of what people want and 20 per cent of what experts know the people need. Any serious deviation from that 80 per cent is likely to result in failure. A successful operation in the public health field depends on the understanding and active support of all elements in community life. If I may speak for my colleagues in all the Americas on general environ- mental needs, I should like to leave you with the thought that in basic sanitation we know what to do to improve the environment and we know how to do it. All we need is effective public support -which you all help to develop-in order to do an effective job. 12 The Caribbean 12 The Caribbean That attitude is implicit in the democratic approach. It recog- nizes that officials working on public health and preventive medicine share their responsibilities with all the people. There is still a great deal of truth in the old axiom that a sound public health program provides 80 per cent of what people want and 20 per cent of what experts know the people need. Any serious deviation from that 80 per cent is likely to result in failure. A successful operation in the public health field depends on the understanding and active support of all elements in community life. If I may speak for my colleagues in all the Americas on general environ- mental needs, I should like to leave you with the thought that in basic sanitation we know what to do to improve the environment and we know how to do it. All we need is effective public support -which you all help to develop-in order to do an effective job. That attitude is implicit in the democratic approach. It recog- nizes that officials working on public health and preventive medicine share their responsibilities with all the people. There is still a great deal of truth in the old axiom that a sound public health program provides 80 per cent of what people want and 20 per cent of what experts know the people need. Any serious deviation from that 80 per cent is likely to result in failme. A successful operation in the public health field depends on the understanding and active support of all elements in community life. If I may speak for my colleagues in all the Americas on general environ- mental needs, I should like to leave you with the thought that in basic sanitation we know what to do to improve the environment and we know how to do it. All we need is effective public support -which you all help to develop-in order to do an effective job.  2 Fred L. Soper: YELLOW FEVER IN THE CARIBBEAN THE OCCURRENCE of scattered cases of yellow fever in Panama, in 1948, 1949, 1950 and the first half of 1951, followed by a wavelike epidemic during the past six months in Costa Rica, moving from southeast to northwest, has focused attention on the yellow fever potentialities of the Caribbean area, as the equally significant occurrence of the disease under similar conditions since 1933, almost continuously in Colombia and less regularly in Venezuela, had failed to do. Until the occurrence of cases in Panama and Costa Rica, there was a tendency to consider Colombia and Venezuela as epidemiologically part of the South American continent rather than of the Caribbean area, where North, South, and Central America and the West Indies meet. It is fitting that the yellow fever potential of the Caribbean area, previously the most important stronghold of yellow fever, be considered in the light of present-day knowledge of this great his- torical scourge of the American tropics. Yellow fever is a very modem disease, the first recognizable description of which dates back only three hundred years to the Yucatan Peninsula in 1648. Apparently many other places in the Caribbean, including Barbados, St. Kitts, Guadaloupe, and Havana, were infected about the same time. Just twenty years later, in 1668, yellow fever appeared for the first of many visits in the 13 Fred L. Soper: YELLOW FEVER IN THE CARIBBEAN THE OCCURRENCE of scattered cases of yellow fever in Panama, in 1948, 1949, 1950 and the first half of 1951, followed by a wavelike epidemic during the past six months in Costa Rica, moving from southeast to northwest, has focused attention on the yellow fever potentialities of the Caribbean area, as the equally significant occurrence of the disease under similar conditions since 1933, almost continuously in Colombia and less regularly in Venezuela, had failed to do. Until the occurrence of cases in Panama and Costa Rica, there was a tendency to consider Colombia and Venezuela as epidemiologically part of the South American continent rather than of the Caribbean area, where North, South, and Central America and the West Indies meet. It is fitting that the yellow fever potential of the Caribbean area, previously the most important stronghold of yellow fever, be considered in the light of present-day knowledge of this great his- torical scourge of the American trmpics. Yellow fever is a very modem disease, the first recognizable description of which dates back only three hundred years to the Yucatan Peninsula in 1648. Apparently many other places in the Caribbean, including Barbados, St. Kitts, Guadaloupe, and Havana, were infected about the same time. Just twenty years later, in 1668, yellow fever appeared for the first of many visits in the 13 Fred L. Soper: YELLOW FEVER IN THE CARIBBEAN THE OCCURRENCE of scattered cases of yellow fever in Panama, in 1948, 1949, 1950 and the first half of 1951, followed by a wavelike epidemic during the past six months in Costa Rica, moving from southeast to northwest, has focused attention on the yellow fever potentialities of the Caribbean area, as the equally significant occurrence of the disease under similar conditions since 1933, almost continuously in Colombia and less regularly in Venezuela, had failed to do. Until the occurrence of cases in Panama and Costa Rica, there was a tendency to consider Colombia and Venezuela as epidemiologically part of the South American continent rather than of the Caribbean area, where North, South, and Central America and the West Indies meet. It is fitting that the yellow fever potential of the Caribbean area, previously the most important stronghold of yellow fever, be considered in the light of present-day knowledge of this great his- torical scourge of the American tropics. Yellow fever is a very modern disease, the first recognizable description of which dates back only three hundred years to the Yucatan Peninsula in 1648. Apparently many other places in the Caribbean, including Barbados, St. Kitts, Guadaloupe, and Havana, were infected about the same time. Just twenty years later, in 1668, yellow fever appeared for the first of many visits in the  14 The Caribbean port of New York. This was sixteen years before its first recorded visit to Brazil in 1684. From the middle of the seventeenth until the early years of the present century, the history of yellow fever is very closely linked to the history of the Caribbean area. So important was yellow fever as a handicap to European exploitation of the Caribbean, especially through the destruction of newly arrived European troops, that it came to be called, in many places, La fiebre patridtica or "The Patriotic Fever." It is easy to imagine that, had the Finlay theory of the transmission of yellow fever by the Aides aegypti mosquito been accepted when first proposed in 1881, Cuba might well be a Spanish colony and the Panama Canal a French possession. Besides being the site of the first reported outbreak of yellow fever, the Caribbean area was the great stronghold of the disease from which summer excursions to the United States and Europe originated during two and a half centuries and was the scene of the dramatic events leading to the first successful measures for the control of yellow fever. It was in Havana that the theory of mosquito transmission was developed by Finlay in 1881, convincingly demonstrated by Reed in 1900, and put into operation by Gorgas in 1901. The Havana anti-mosquito campaign convinced the epidemiologists, and another Caribbean campaign, that in Panama, made possible the digging of the Canal and convinced the world in general that yellow fever could be conquered through mosquito-control measures in urban centers. This conviction lasted for thirty years, during which yellow fever was known as an epidemiologically simple, urban, and mari- time disease, transmitted from man to man by the Aides aegypti mosquito which, in the Americas, is found breeding only in artificial water-containers, in and about human habitations. All are familiar with the stories of Gorgas in Havana and Panama, Oswaldo Cruz in Rio de Janeiro, Liceaga in Mexico, White in New Orleans and others, who, armed with the secret of the mosquito transmission of yellow fever, performed miracles in the broad light of day and became the prophets and saints of the public health movement overnight. Anti-mosquito campaigns in the important centers of yellow fever endemicity were followed by the disappearance of the disease not only from these centers, but also from large tributary regions. 14 The Caribbean 14 The Caribbean port of New York. This was sixteen years before its first recorded visit to Brazil in 1684. From the middle of the seventeenth until the early years of the present century, the history of yellow fever is very closely linked to the history of the Caribbean area. So important was yellow fever as a handicap to European exploitation of the Caribbean, especially through the destruction of newly arrived European troops, that it came to be called, in many places, La fibre patridtica or "The Patriotic Fever." It is easy to imagine that, had the Finlay theory of the transmission of yellow fever by the Aides aegypti mosquito been accepted when first proposed in 1881, Cuba might well be a Spanish colony and the Panama Canal a French possession. Besides being the site of the first reported outbreak of yellow fever, the Caribbean area was the great stronghold of the disease from which summer excursions to the United States and Europe originated during two and a half centuries and was the scene of the dramatic events leading to the first successful measures for the control of yellow fever. It was in Havana that the theory of mosquito transmission was developed by Finlay in 1881, convincingly demonstrated by Reed in 1900, and put into operation by Gorgas in 1901. The Havana anti-mosquito campaign convinced the epidemiologists, and another Caribbean campaign, that in Panama, made possible the digging of the Canal and convinced the world in general that yellow fever could be conquered through mosquito-control measures in urban centers. This conviction lasted for thirty years, during which yellow fever was known as an epidemiologically simple, urban, and mari- time disease, transmitted from man to man by the Aides aegypti mosquito which, in the Americas, is found breeding only in artificial water-containers, in and about human habitations. All are familiar with the stories of Gorgas in Havana and Panama, Oswaldo Cruz in Rio de Janeiro, Liceaga in Mexico, White in New Orleans and others, who, armed with the secret of the mosquito transmission of yellow fever, performed miracles in the broad light of day and became the prophets and saints of the public health movement overnight. Anti-mosquito campaigns in the important centers of yellow fever endemicity were followed by the disappearance of the disease not only from these centers, but also from large tributary regions. port of New York. This was sixteen years before its first recorded visit to Brazil in 1684. From the middle of the seventeenth until the early years of the present century, the history of yellow fever is very closely linked to the history of the Caribbean area. So important was yellow fever as a handicap to European exploitation of the Caribbean, especially through the destruction of newly arrived European troops, that it came to be called, in many places, La /lbre patriotica or "The Patriotic Fever." It is easy to imagine that, had the Finlay theory of the transmission of yellow fever by the Aides aegypti mosquito been accepted when first proposed in 1881, Cuba might well be a Spanish colony and the Panama Canal a French possession. Besides being the site of the first reported outbreak of yellow fever, the Caribbean area was the great stronghold of the disease from which summer excursions to the United States and Europe originated during two and a half centuries and was the scene of the dramatic events leading to the first successful measures for the control of yellow fever. It was in Havana that the theory of mosquito transmission was developed by Finlay in 1881, convincingly demonstrated by Reed in 1900, and put into operation by Gorgas in 1901. The Havana anti-mosquito campaign convinced the epidemiologists, and another Caribbean campaign, that in Panama, made possible the digging of the Canal and convinced the world in general that yellow fever could be conquered through mosquito-control measures in urban centers. This conviction lasted for thirty years, during which yellow fever was known as an epidemiologically simple, urban, and mari- time disease, transmitted from man to man by the Aides aegypti mosquito which, in the Americas, is found breeding only in artificial water-containers, in and about human habitations. All are familiar with the stories of Gorgas in Havana and Panama, Oswaldo Cruz in Rio de Janeiro, Liceaga in Mexico, White in New Orleans and others, who, armed with the secret of the mosquito transmission of yellow fever, performed miracles in the broad light of day and became the prophets and saints of the public health movement overnight. Anti-mosquito campaigns in the important centers of yellow fever endemicity were followed by the disappearance of the disease not only from these centers, but also from large tributary regions.  HEALTH 15 HEALTH 15 HEALTH By 1915 only a few recognized endemic centers of yellow fever remained in the Americas, including Guayaquil on the West Coast and Bahia and Pernambuco on the East Coast of South America. The then recently organized Rockefeller Foundation embarked on a program of collaboration with the governments of the countries in which yellow fever still might be found, in an attempt to eradicate the disease completely from the Western Hemisphere. Campaigns in the Central American countries, in Mexico, in Ecuador, in Peru, and in Colombia were completely successful and, by 1925, yellow fever was apparently limited, in the Americas, to a small coastal ara of Northeast Brazil, where promising results were being reported. This attempt to eradicate yellow fever from the Americas was based on the belief that yellow fever was limited to man and on the observation that it could be eradicated from all infected cities by the single measure of reduction of aegypti breeding, following which the disease would not long remain in the smaller towns and villages. II Following the initial observation of yellow fever in the Valle de Canaan, Brazil, in 1932 as a rural disease occurring in the absence of the Aides aegypti mosquito, the true picture of yellow fever as basically a disease of animals (monkeys and marsupials), transmitted in the tropical and subtropical forests of the Americas by mosquitoes other than aegypti, and involving human infection only secondarily, has been filled in. Outbreaks of this so-called jungle yellow fever, which has been shown to be a source of virus for the re-infection of previous yellow fever centers and hence a permanent obstacle to the eradication of yellow fever as planned by the Rockefeller Foundation, have been observed in all of the countries of South America, except Chile and Uruguay, and in Panama and Costa Rica. Blood tests on monkeys shot in Mexico early this year have shown that jungle yellow fever has been in the forests of Mexico during the lifetime of the animals tested. There is every reason to assume that jungle yellow fever occurs in all the countries of Central America except, possibly, El Salvador, where deforestation is well advanced. By 1915 only a few recognized endemic centers of yellow fever remained in the Americas, including Guayaquil on the West Coast and Bahia and Pernambuco on the East Coast of South America. The then recently organized Rockefeller Foundation embarked on a program of collaboration with the governments of the countries in which yellow fever still might be found, in an attempt to eradicate the disease completely from the Western Hemisphere. Campaigns in the Central American countries, in Mexico, in Ecuador, in Peru, and in Colombia were completely successful and, by 1925, yellow fever was apparently limited, in the Americas, to a small coastal area of Northeast Brazil, where promising results were being reported. This attempt to eradicate yellow fever from the Americas was based on the belief that yellow fever was limited to man and on the observation that it could be eradicated from all infected cities by the single measure of reduction of aegypti breeding, following which the disease would not long remain in the smaller towns and villages. II Following the initial observation of yellow fever in the Valle de Canaan, Brazil, in 1932 as a rural disease occurring in the absence of the Aides aegypti mosquito, the true picture of yellow fever as basically a disease of animals (monkeys and marsupials), transmitted in the tropical and subtropical forests of the Americas by mosquitoes other than aegypti, and involving human infection only secondarily, has been filled in. Outbreaks of this so-called jungle yellow fever, which has been shown to be a source of virus for the re-infection of previous yellow fever centers and hence a permanent obstacle to the eradication of yellow fever as planned by the Rockefeller Foundation, have been observed in all of the countries of South America, except Chile and Uruguay, and in Panama and Costa Rica. Blood tests on monkeys shot in Mexico early this year have shown that jungle yellow fever has been in the forests of Mexico during the lifetime of the animals tested. There is every reason to assume that jungle yellow fever occun in all the countries of Central America except, possibly, El Salvador, where deforestation is well advanced. By 1915 only a few recognized endemic centers of yellow fever remained in the Americas, including Guayaquil on the West Coast and Bahia and Pernambuco on the East Coast of South America. The then recently organized Rockefeller Foundation embarked on a program of collaboration with the governments of the countries in which yellow fever still might be found, in an attempt to eradicate the disease completely from the Western Hemisphere. Campaigns in the Central American countries, in Mexico, in Ecuador, in Peru, and in Colombia were completely successful and, by 1925, yellow fever was apparently limited, in the Americas, to a small coastal area of Northeast Brazil, where promising results were being reported. This attempt to eradicate yellow fever from the Americas was based on the belief that yellow fever was limited to man and on the observation that it could be eradicated from all infected cities by the single measure of reduction of aegypti breeding, following which the disease would not long remain in the smaller towns and villages. II Following the initial observation of yellow fever in the Valle de Canaan, Brazil, in 1932 as a rural disease occurring in the absence of the Aides aegypti mosquito, the true picture of yellow fever as basically a disease of animals (monkeys and marsupials), transmitted in the tropical and subtropical forests of the Americas by mosquitoes other than aegypti, and involving human infection only secondarily, has been filled in. Outbreaks of this so-called jungle yellow fever, which has been shown to be a source of virus for the re-infection of previous yellow fever centes and hence a permanent obstacle to the eradication of yellow fever as planned by the Rockefeller Foundation, have been observed in all of the countries of South America, except Chile and Uruguay, and in Panama and Costa Rica. Blood tests on monkeys shot in Mexico early this year have shown that jungle yellow fever has been in the forests of Mexico during the lifetime of the animals tested. There is every reason to assume that jungle yellow fever occurs in all the countries of Central America except, possibly, El Salvador, where defonrestation is well advanced.  16 The Caribbean It is noteworthy that aegypti-transmitted yellow fever has not been reported from any of the cities of the Caribbean since 1937, when a few cases occurred at Buena Vista, a small town on the Magdalena River in Colombia. Likewise, no jungle yellow fever has been found in the West Indies, although one of the early references to the possibility of monkeys having a part in the life history of yellow fever, published in 1914, referred to illness among monkeys in the forests of Trinidad during epidemics of yellow fever. It is believed that this freedom of the island zones from jungle yellow fever is due to the fact that the monkey population of the islands has been liquidated and that suitable conditions for it no longer exist in the remaining forests. A line can be drawn, then, from between Yucatan and Cuba, south and east to a point just north of Trinidad, dividing the Caribbean into mainland and island zones. The mainland zone has the double threat of jungle yellow fever, as an important disease for forest inhabitants and laborers, and as a source of virus for the re-infection of such cities and towns as remain infested by the Aides aegypti mosquito. The island zone is apparently subject to the threat of aegypti- transmitted yellow fever only if, and when, the yellow fever virus may be re-introduced from the mainland. The potential threat of the movement of yellow fever virus from forest to urban areas grows with the increased rapidity and facility of passenger traffic. However, the threat of urban yellow fever, originating from jungle yellow fever, is greatest at those urban centers infested with aegypti most closely in contact with infected jungle districts. If these exposed danger points are kept clean of the aegypti mosquito, there is very little opportunity for the disease to jump long distances. The unrecognized introduction of yellow fever into urban com- munities from nearby jungle districts is the most probable mecha- nism by which persons preparing to travel to other countries might be infected close to the date of departure. This danger disappears with the eradication of the Aides aegypti mosquito. III Fortunately, about the time that jungle yellow fever was being demonstrated as a permanent source of yellow fever virus for the 16 The Caribbean 16 The Caribbean It is noteworthy that aegypti-transmitted yellow fever has not been reported from any of the cities of the Caribbean since 1937, when a few cases occurred at Buena Vista, a small town on the Magdalena River in Colombia. Likewise, no jungle yellow fever has been found in the West Indies, although one of the early references to the possibility of monkeys having a part in the life history of yellow fever, published in 1914, referred to illness among monkeys in the forests of Trinidad during epidemics of yellow fever. It is believed that this freedom of the island zones from jungle yellow fever is due to the fact that the monkey population of the islands has been liquidated and that suitable conditions for it no longer exist in the remaining forests. A line can be drawn, then, from between Yucatan and Cuba, south and east to a point just north of Trinidad, dividing the Caribbean into mainland and island zones. The mainland zone has the double threat of jungle yellow fever, as an important disease for forest inhabitants and laborers, and as a source of virus for the re-infection of such cities and towns as remain infested by the Aides aegypti mosquito. The island zone is apparently subject to the threat of aegypti- transmitted yellow fever only if, and when, the yellow fever virus may be re-introduced from the mainland. The potential threat of the movement of yellow fever virus from forest to urban areas grows with the increased rapidity and facility of passenger traffic. However, the threat of urban yellow fever, originating from jungle yellow fever, is greatest at those urban centers infested with aegypti most closely in contact with infected jungle districts. If these exposed danger points are kept clean of the aegypti mosquito, there is very little opportunity for the disease to jump long distances. The unrecognized introduction of yellow fever into urban com- munities from nearby jungle districts is the most probable mecha- nism by which persons preparing to travel to other countries might be infected close to the date of departure. This danger disappears with the eradication of the Aides aegypti mosquito. III Fortunately, about the time that jungle yellow fever was being demonstrated as a permanent source of yellow fever virus for the It is noteworthy that aegypti-transmitted yellow fever has not been reported from any of the cities of the Caribbean since 1937, when a few cases occurred at Buena Vista, a small town on the Magdalena River in Colombia. Likewise, no jungle yellow fever has been found in the West Indies, although one of the early references to the possibility of monkeys having a part in the life history of yellow fever, published in 1914, referred to illness among monkeys in the forests of Trinidad during epidemics of yellow fever. It is believed that this freedom of the island zones from jungle yellow fever is due to the fact that the monkey population of the islands has been liquidated and that suitable conditions for it no longer exist in the remaining forests. A line can be drawn, then, from between Yucatan and Cuba, south and east to a point just north of Trinidad, dividing the Caribbean into mainland and island zones. The mainland zone has the double threat of jungle yellow fever, as an important disease for forest inhabitants and laborers, and as a source of virus for the re-infection of such cities and towns as remain infested by the Aides aegypti mosquito. The island zone is apparently subject to the threat of aegypti- transmitted yellow fever only if, and when, the yellow fever virus may be re-intrduced from the mainland. The potential threat of the movement of yellow fever virus from forest to urban areas grows with the increased rapidity and facility of passenger traffic. However, the threat of urban yellow fever, originating from jungle yellow fever, is greatest at those urban centers infested with aegypti most closely in contact with infected jungle districts. If these exposed danger points are kept clean of the aegypti mosquito, there is very little opportunity for the disease to jump long distances. The unrecognized introduction of yellow fever into urban com- munities from nearby jungle districts is the most probable mecha- nism by which persons preparing to travel to other countries might be infected close to the date of departure. This danger disappears with the eradication of the Aides aegypti mosquito. III Fortunately, about the time that jungle yellow fever was being demonstrated as a permanent source of yellow fever virus for the  HEALTH 17 HEALTH 17 HEALTH re-infection of urban as-as, methods for the complete eradication of Aides aegypti were being developed in Brazil. Once the larger cities of Brazil were cleared of aegypti, it was found more eco- nomical to eradicate this mosquito from the suburbs and from the interior towns, and even rural areas, than it was to attempt to maintain aegypti-control services in the larger cities. Eradication of aegypti has proven to be an ever expanding program and, since 1947, when Brazil proposed its eradication as a continental pro- gram, the Pan American Sanitary Bureau has been dedicated, under a mandate from its Directing Council, to collaboration with the governments of the Americas in the eradication of Aides aegypti from North, Central, and South America and the West Indies. The eradication of aegypti will eliminate all possibility of surprise returns of yellow fever to old endemic centers of infection, such as occurred in Rio de Janeiro in 1928. Although it is impossible to eradicate the yellow fever virus from the Americas as was planned by the Rockefeller Foundation, it is possible to eradicate completely the urban vector and remove all threat of all but jungle yellow fever. The program for the eradication of aegypti is well advanced in South and Central America and Mexico and has begun in some of the West Indies. It is of the highest importance, for the comfort as well as for the safety of the Caribbean, that the Aides aegypti mosquito be eradicated, not only from both the main- land and island zones of the Caribbean, but also from the United States and the rest of the Americas, thus eliminating possible sources of re-infestation in the Western Hemisphere. re-infection of urban amas, methods for the complete eradication of Aides aegypti were being developed in Brazil. Once the larger cities of Brazil were cleared of aegypti, it was found more eco- nomical to eradicate this mosquito from the suburbs and from the interior towns, and even rural areas, than it was to attempt to maintain aegypti-control services in the larger cities. Eradication of aegypti has proven to be an ever expanding program and, since 1947, when Brazil proposed its eradication as a continental pro- gram, the Pan American Sanitary Bureau has been dedicated, under a mandate from its Directing Council, to collaboration with the governments of the Americas in the eradication of Aides aegypti from North, Central, and South America and the West Indies. The eradication of aegypti will eliminate all possibility of surprise seturns of yellow fever to old endemic centers of infection, such as occurred in Rio de Janeiro in 1928. Although it is impossible to eradicate the yellow fever virus from the Americas as was planned by the Rockefeller Foundation, it is possible to eradicate completely the urban vector and remove all thsoat of all but jungle yellow fever. The program for the eradication of aegypti is well advanced in South and Central America and Mexico and has begun in some of the West Indies. It is of the highest importance, for the comfort as well as for the safety of the Caribbean, that the Aides aegypti mosquito be eradicated, not only from both the main- land and island zones of the Caribbean, but also from the United States and the rest of the Americas, thus eliminating possible sources of re-infestation in the Western Hemispher. se-infection of urban areas, methods for the complete eradication of Aides aegypti were being developed in Brazil. Once the larger cities of Brazil were cleared of aegypti, it was found more eco- nomical to eradicate this mosquito from the suburbs and from the interior towns, and even rural areas, than it was to attempt to maintain aegypti-control services in the larger cities. Eradication of aegypti has proven to be an ever expanding program and, since 1947, when Brazil proposed its eradication as a continental pro- gram, the Pan American Sanitary Bureau has been dedicated, under a mandate from its Directing Council, to collaboration with the governments of the Americas in the eradication of Aides aegypti from North, Central, and South America and the West Indies. The eradication of aegypti will eliminate all possibility of surprise returns of yellow fever to old endemic centers of infection, such as occurred in Rio de Janeiro in 1928. Although it is impossible to eradicate the yellow fever virus from the Americas as was planned by the Rockefeller Foundation, it is possible to eradicate completely the urban vector and remove all threat of all but jungle yellow fever. The program for the eradication of aegypti is well advanced in South and Central America and Mexico and has begun in some of the West Indies. It is of the highest importance, for the comfort as well as for the safety of the Caribbean, that the Aides aegypti mosquito be eradicated, not only from both the main- land and island zones of the Caribbean, but also from the United States and the rest of the Americas, thus eliminating possible sources of re-infestation in the Western Hemisphere.  Jose Guzm & BaldiviesO: HEALTH PROBLEMS IN VENEZUELA AND BOLIVIA: A STUDY IN CONTRASTS I AM FORTUNATE, honored, and proud to be seated at the same round table of this Second Annual Conference on the Caribbean with such great and distinguished gentlemen as my good friend Dr. Fred L. Soper, director of the Pan American Sanitary Bureau, and General Mark D. Hollis, Assistant Surgeon General of the United States of America. I have a special greeting for Dr. Soper from Bolivia. Dr. Valentin Grmez, Secretary of Health of the Republic of Bolivia, in the name of the whole country and in his own name, sent me a cablegram of salutation on this first day of the Caribbean Conference. About a year ago, from Dr. Soper's home town in Kansas, I, too, sent him greetings in my capacity as an Honorary Bolivian Consul to that state. You probably wonder just what an "Hon- orary" Bolivian Consul does in Kansas. In Bolivia we have two methods of disposing of political enemies: the "quick method"- hanging them from a lamp post, and the "slow method"-naming them Honorary Consul to some remote place like Kansas! I have also, in a small way, something in common with you, Dr. Hollis. I was Assistant Surgeon General of Bolivia during and after the crucial years of the Chaco War. Jose Guzman BaldiViesO: HEALTH PROBLEMS IN VENEZUELA AND BOLIVIA: A STUDY IN CONTRASTS I AM FORTUNATE, honored, and proud to be seated at the same round table of this Second Annual Conference on the Caribbean with such great and distinguished gentlemen as my good friend Dr. Fred L. Soper, director of the Pan American Sanitary Bureau, and General Mark D. Hollis, Assistant Surgeon General of the United States of America. I have a special greeting for Dr. Soper from Bolivia. Dr. Valentin Gmez, Secretary of Health of the Republic of Bolivia, in the name of the whole country and in his own name, sent me a cablegram of salutation on this first day of the Caribbean Conference. About a year ago, from Dr. Soper's home town in Kansas, I, too, sent him greetings in my capacity as an Honorary Bolivian Consul to that state. You probably wonder just what an "Hon- orary" Bolivian Consul does in Kansas. In Bolivia we have two methods of disposing of political enemies: the "quick method"- hanging them from a lamp post, and the "slow method"-naming them Honorary Consul to some remote place like Kansas! I have also, in a small way, something in common with you, Dr. Hollis. I was Assistant Surgeon General of Bolivia during and after the crucial years of the Chaco War. Jose Guzman BaldiViesO: HEALTH PROBLEMS IN VENEZUELA AND BOLIVIA: A STUDY IN CONTRASTS I AM FORTUNATE, honored, and proud to be seated at the same round table of this Second Annual Conference on the Caribbean with such great and distinguished gentlemen as my good friend Dr. Fred L. Soper, director of the Pan American Sanitary Bureau, and General Mark D. Hollis, Assistant Surgeon General of the United States of America. I have a special greeting for Dr. Soper from Bolivia. Dr. Valentin Gomez, Secretary of Health of the Republic of Bolivia, in the name of the whole country and in his own name, sent me a cablegram of salutation on this first day of the Caribbean Conference. About a year ago, from Dr. Soper's home town in Kansas, I, too, sent him greetings in my capacity as an Honorary Bolivian Consul to that state. You probably wonder just what an "Hon- orary" Bolivian Consul does in Kansas. In Bolivia we have two methods of disposing of political enemies: the "quick method"- hanging them from a lamp post, and the "slow method"-naming them Honorary Consul to some remote place like Kansas! I have also, in a small way, something in common with you, Dr. Hollis. I was Assistant Surgeon General of Bolivia during and after the crucial years of the Chaco War. 18 18  HEALTH 19 HEALTH 19 HEALTH For the next few minutes I should like to inform you from my own experience and studies about some contrasts in the health problems of Venezuela and Bolivia. Some of you, perhaps, would remark that Bolivia is too far away and too high up from el precioso Caribe. I am sure, how- ever, that the things I shall say may suffice to prove what I sin- cerely believe. I envy countries close to yours because of the great benefits they have received and continue to receive. I wish that my country could have been closer geographically to yours! I am convinced that even though this conference is regional, a comparison of the great country of Bolivar and la hija predilecta de Bolivar is entirely appropriate here. I shall not enter, at this time, into detail to prove the geographical simiilarities of the two countries. A rapid glance at the map will be sufficient evidence that Venezuela and Bolivia have been endowed with the most beautiful montahas y llanos. Authorities like Dr. Soper will agree that many of our health problems are similar, especially if we are to consider definite problems, such as control of tuberculosis or of malaria. The Orinoco llanos have their parallel in my country with the llanos of Santa Cruz, Beni, and Pando. As far as climate is concerned we find striking similarities. Even the fabulous stories of El Dorado in Venezuela have a parallel with the not too well-known stories of the paraiso terrenal near Sorata and not too far away from the city of La Paz. In both Venezuela and Bolivia nature and the Indian inhabitants of the regions have proved stronger than many white people eager for adventures, and even today great sections of the Orinoco in Venezuela and parts of the hoya del Amazonas remain uncharted and unknown. As far as the flora and fauna are concerned, Bolivia and Ven- ezuela could have been twin daughters of Bolivar: roses, orchids, gardenias, jasmine, and all the beauties of this world grow wild there. Both countries have rich storehouses of the most precious types of woods. Both grow coffee, cacao, corn, tobacco, and cotton- and they both have plenty of oil! For the next few minutes I should like to inform you from my own experience and studies about some contrasts in the health problems of Venezuela and Bolivia. Some of you, perhaps, would remark that Bolivia is too far away and too high up from el precioso Caribe. I am sure, how- ever, that the things I shall say may suffice to prove what I sin- cerely believe. I envy countries close to yours because of the great benefits they have received and continue to receive. I wish that my country could have been closer geographically to yours! I am convinced that even though this conference is regional, a comparison of the great country of Bolivar and la hija predilecta de Bolivar is entirly appropriate here. I shall not enter, at this time, into detail to prove the geographical similarities of the two countries. A rapid glance at the map will be sufficient evidence that Venezuela and Bolivia have been endowed with the most beautiful montasas y llanos. Authorities like Dr. Soper will agree that many of our health problems are similar, especially if we are to consider definite problems, such as control of tuberculosis or of malaria. The Orinoco llanos have their parallel in my country with the llanos of Santa Cruz, Beni, and Pando. As far as climate is concerned we find striking similarities. Even the fabulous stories of El Dorado in Venezuela have a parallel with the not too well-known stories of the paraso terrenal near Sorata and not too far away from the city of La Paz. In both Venezuela and Bolivia nature and the Indian inhabitants of the regions have proved stronger than many white people eager for adventures, and even today great sections of the Orinoco in Venezuela and parts of the hoya del Amazonas remain uncharted and unknown. As far as the flora and fauna are concerned, Bolivia and Ven- ezuela could have been twin daughters of Bolivar: roses, orchids, gardenias, jasmine, and all the beauties of this world grow wild there. Both countries have rich storehouses of the most precious types of woods. Both grow coffee, cacao, corn, tobacco, and cotton- and they both have plenty of oil! For the next few minutes I should like to inform you from my own experience and studies about some contrasts in the health problems of Venezuela and Bolivia. Some of you, perhaps, would remark that Bolivia is too far away and too high up from el precioso Caribe. I am sure, how- ever, that the things I shall say may suffice to prove what I sin- cerely believe. I envy countries close to yours because of the great benefits they have received and continue to receive. I wish that my country could have been closer geographically to your! I am convinced that even though this conference is regional, a comparison of the great country of Bolivar and la hija predilecta de Bolivar is entirely appropriate here. I shall not enter, at this time, into detail to prove the geographical similarities of the two countries. A rapid glance at the map will be sufficient evidence that Venezuela and Bolivia have been endowed with the most beautiful montaas y llanos. Authorities like Dr. Soper will agree that many of our health problems are similar, especially if we are to consider definite problems, such as control of tuberculosis or of malaria. The Orinoco llanos have their parallel in my country with the llanos of Santa Cruz, Beni, and Pando. As far as climate is concermed we find striking similarities. Even the fabulous stories of El Dorado in Venezuela have a parallel with the not too well-known stories of the paraso terrenal near Sorata and not too far away from the city of La Paz. In both Venezuela and Bolivia nature and the Indian inhabitants of the regions have proved stronger than many white people eager for adventures, and even today great sections of the Orinoco in Venezuela and parts of the hoya del Amazonas remain uncharted and unknown. As far as the flora and fauna are concerned, Bolivia and Ven- ezuela could have been twin daughters of Bolivar: roses, orchids, gardenias, jasmine, and all the beauties of this world grow wild there. Both countries have rich storehouses of the most precious types of woods. Both grow coffee, cacao, corn, tobacco, and cotton- and they both have plenty of oil!  20 The Caribbean Both are rich in animal life-in fact there arm a great number of animals not even known to the zoology department of the University of Florida. I would like to volunteer to go to Green Hell in order to prove this assertion! I1 I have mentioned the geographical similarities of the two coun- tries because they are so important if one considers their sanitary problems. However, there is one great difference: Venezuela has a "bank roll"; Bolivia, is "broke." And since money is the basis of health, it is impossible not to mention it. Later, we shall see what I mean. There has been, and still is, one strong ray of hope: the health and sanitary program of the Inter-American Institute which today benefits one of every six Latin Americans. Someone has said that there are two very important dates to be remembered in North American history: 1942 and 1492. No more true statement could be made if one is referring to health and sanitation. Of course, we all know what happened in 1492. But a great majority of North Americans do not know what happened in 1942-that was when the North Americans discovered the Latin Americans at the Rio Conference. The greatest of all programs, so far as I am concerned, prior to the Point Four Program was the health and sanitation program of the Institute of Inter-American Affairs. This was set up to save and protect the greatest of all values-human values-so disre- garded today. It was in the year 1942 that the United States government, through the Institute of Inter-American Affairs, established the health and sanitation program which has been carried on in Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic, Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, Paraguay, Peru, Uruguay, and Venezuela. This program has aided twenty-three million Latin Americans to this year of 1951. Venezuela has achieved a great deal. As far as the United States is concerned, the help to Venezuela has been halted. But Venezuela marches on with gigantic steps! Bolivia, however, still is in need of assistance. Under this program, "controls have been extended over disease by extending controls over the environment." It has been said that 20 The Caribbean Both are rich in animal life-in fact there are a great number of animals not even known to the zoology department of the University of Florida. I would like to volunteer to go to Green Hell in order to prove this assertion! II I have mentioned the geographical similarities of the two coun- tries because they are so important if one considers their sanitary problems. However, there is one great difference: Venezuela has a "bank roll"; Bolivia, is "broke." And since money is the basis of health, it is impossible not to mention it. Later, we shall see what I mean. There has been, and still is, one strong ray of hope: the health and sanitary program of the Inter-American Institute which today benefits one of every six Latin Americans. Someone has said that there are two very important dates to be remembered in North American history: 1942 and 1492. No more true statement could be made if one is referring to health and sanitation. Of course, we all know what happened in 1492. But a great majority of North Americans do not know what happened in 1942-that was when the North Americans discovered the Latin Americans at the Rio Conference. The greatest of all programs, so far as I am concerned, prior to the Point Four Program was the health and sanitation program of the Institute of Inter-American Affairs. This was set up to save and protect the greatest of all values-human values-so disre- garded today. It was in the year 1942 that the United States government, through the Institute of Inter-American Affairs, established the health and sanitation program which has been carried on in Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic, Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, Paraguay, Peru, Uruguay, and Venezuela. This program has aided twenty-three million Latin Americans to this year of 1951. Venezuela has achieved a great deal. As far as the United States is concerned, the help to Venezuela has been halted. But Venezuela marches on with gigantic steps! Bolivia, however, still is in need of assistance. Under this program, "controls have been extended over disease by extending controls over the environment." It has been said that 20 The Caribbean Both are rich in animal life-in fact there are a great number of animals not even known to the zoology department of the University of Florida. I would like to volunteer to go to Green Hell in order to prove this assertion! II I have mentioned the geographical similarities of the two coun- tries because they are so important if one considers their sanitary problems. However, there is one great difference: Venezuela has a "bank roll"; Bolivia, is "broke." And since money is the basis of health, it is impossible not to mention it. Later, we shall see what I mean. There has been, and still is, one strong ray of hope: the health and sanitary program of the Inter-American Institute which today benefits one of every six Latin Americans. Someone has said that there are two very important dates to be remembered in North American history: 1942 and 1492. No more true statement could be made if one is referring to health and sanitation. Of course, we all know what happened in 1492. But a great majority of North Americans do not know what happened in 1942-that was when the North Americans discovered the Latin Americans at the Rio Conference. The greatest of all programs, so far as I am concerned, prior to the Point Four Program was the health and sanitation program of the Institute of Inter-American Affairs. This was set up to save and protect the greatest of all values-human values-so disre- garded today. It was in the year 1942 that the United States government, through the Institute of Inter-American Affairs, established the health and sanitation program which has been carried on in Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic, Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, Paraguay, Peru, Uruguay, and Venezuela. This program has aided twenty-three million Latin Americans to this year of 1951. Venezuela has achieved a great deal. As far as the United States is concerned, the help to Venezuela has been halted. But Venezuela marches on with gigantic steps! Bolivia, however, still is in need of assistance. Under this program, "controls have been extended over disease by extending controls over the environment." It has been said that  HEALTH 21 HEALTH 21 "this is a program fundamentally to help people help themselves, to give them a hand along the road of health and economic development." Figures are eloquent. Let us consider some of them. The budget for the Department of Health of Venezuela during the period 1946-47 was 55,295,773 Bolivares. During 1947-48 it was 86,403,092 Bolivares-an increase of 31,000,000 Bolivares. At the end of last year the increase was approximately 50,000,000 Bolivares over the previous budgetary period. When a government like that of Venezuela gives such an emphasis to la inversion en la defensa de nuestro capital humano y en assistencia msdica de manesa plani- #icada y eiciente, we must agree that it is a great work. The Venezuelan government, of course, still has an important problem to face in the problem of nutrition of its masses. This no doubt will be solved in not too distant a day. I know Bolivia's story well, especially before 1942, when Dr. Abelardo Ibfiez Benavente, the Surgeon General, and I organ- ized a program on a scientific basis for the purpose of fighting malaria and tuberculosis. Dr. Jose Tejada S6rrano, President of the Republic, and Dr. Enrique Baldivieso, Minister of Defense (even though they understood the gravity of the problem), could not give more than $10,000-a "drop in the bucket"-for this purpose. However, the Bolivian health and sanitation program has done wonders in the last few years, especially in industrial sanitation and in work with the health problems of the tin miners. There is still considerable room for improvement, especially concerning the budgets for hospitals, preparation of personnel, and sanitation of the many Indian villages; and even La Paz, as Dr. Soper will agree, could stand mds sanidad. This paper could be quite extensive if we attempted a parallel of each servicio de la sanidad. In such a short time I could not hope to cover all of them. However, I shall mention a few more which I consider important. Since I was one of the founders of the only school for nurses in the city of La Paz, I am very much interested in this program. We need more schools for nurses in other sections of the country. Venezuela has ten times more trained nurses than Bolivia. In comparing the two countries further, I find another situation "this is a program fundamentally to help people help themselves, to give them a hand along the road of health and economic development." Figus are eloquent. Let us consider some of them. The budget for the Department of Health of Venezuela during the period 1946-47 was 55,295,773 Bolivares. During 1947-48 it was 86,403,092 Bolivares-an increase of 31,000,000 Bolivares. At the end of last year the increase was approximately 50,000,000 Bolivares over the previous budgetary period. When a government like that of Venezuela gives such an emphasis to la inversidon en la defensa de nuestro capital humano y en assistencia msdica de manera plani- ficada y eficiente, we must agree that it is a great work. The Venezuelan government, of course, still has an important problem to face in the problem of nutrition of its masses. This no doubt will be solved in not too distant a day. I know Bolivia's story well, especially before 1942, when Dr. Abelardo Ibifez Benavente, the Surgeon General, and I organ- ized a program on a scientific basis for the purpose of fighting malaria and tuberculosis. Dr. Jose Tejada Sorzano, President of the Republic, and Dr. Enrique Baldivieso, Minister of Defense (even though they understood the gravity of the problem), could not give more than $10,000-a "drop in the bucket"-for this purpose. However, the Bolivian health and sanitation program has done wonders in the last few years, especially in industrial sanitation and in work with the health problems of the tin miners. There is still considerable room for improvement, especially concerning the budgets for hospitals, preparation of personnel, and sanitation of the many Indian villages; and even La Paz, as Dr. Soper will agree, could stand mds sanidad. This paper could be quite extensive if we attempted a parallel of each servicio de la sanidad. In such a short time I could not hope to cover all of them. However, I shall mention a few more which I consider important. Since I was one of the founders of the only school for nurses in the city of La Paz, I am very much interested in this program. We need more schools for nurses in other sections of the country. Venezuela has ten times more trained nurses than Bolivia. In comparing the two countries further, I find another situation HEALTH 41 "this is a program fundamentally to help people help themselves, to give them a hand along the road of health and economic development." Figures are eloquent. Let us consider some of them. The budget for the Department of Health of Venezuela during the period 1946-47 was 55,295,773 Bolivares. During 1947-48 it was 86,403,092 Bolivares-an increase of 31,000,000 Bolivares. At the end of last year the increase was approximately 50,000,000 Bolivares over the previous budgetary period. When a government like that of Venezuela gives such an emphasis to la inversidn en la defensa de nuestro capital humano y en assistencia midica de manera plani- ficada y eficiente, we must agree that it is a great work. The Venezuelan government, of course, still has an important problem to face in the problem of nutrition of its masses. This no doubt will be solved in not too distant a day. I know Bolivia's story well, especially before 1942, when Dr. Abelardo Ibinez Benavente, the Surgeon General, and I organ- ized a program on a scientific basis for the purpose of fighting malaria and tuberculosis. Dr. Jose Tejada S6rzano, President of the Republic, and Dr. Enrique Baldivieso, Minister of Defense (even though they understood the gravity of the problem), could not give more than $10,000-a "drop in the bucket"-for this purpose. However, the Bolivian health and sanitation program has done wonders in the last few years, especially in industrial sanitation and in work with the health problems of the tin miners. There is still considerable room for improvement, especially concerning the budgets for hospitals, preparation of personnel, and sanitation of the many Indian villages; and even La Paz, as Dr. Soper will agree, could stand mds sanidad. This paper could be quite extensive if we attempted a parallel of each servicio de la sanidad. In such a short time I could not hope to cover all of them. However, I shall mention a few more which I consider important. Since I was one of the founder of the only school for nurses in the city of La Paz, I am very much interensted in this program. We need more schools for nurses in other sections of the country. Venezuela has ten times more trained nurses than Bolivia. In comparing the two countries further, I find another situation  22 The Caribbean 22 The Caribbean which could be remedied. While at La Paz the selection of doctors, sanitary engineers, nurses, and other health workers is still a political matter, in Venezuela the individuals are selected on the basis of their own merits. The budget for national hospitals alone in Venezuela is over 50,000,000 Bolivares. The largest hospital at the city of La Paz has less than twenty American cents per day per patient! The greatest difference I find is between the attitude of the Venezuelan and Bolivian people toward their health services. Ingeniero Cristobal Morales, now a guest of this University under the Point Four Program, remarks with great pride that the health situation today in Venezuela is "very good." He has also given me the latest data as to the birth rate and mortality rate during the last six months of 1951. Bolivia still has the second highest infant mortality on the continent. III I believe that the great ideals of Christianity and democracy are not achieved overnight. I believe that they too have stages of development. The first stage is the castor-oil stage. Some countries take to Christianity and democracy like one who takes castor oil-only when it is needed. The second stage is the breakfast-food stage. One takes wheaties, corn flakes, rice flakes, and all the other flakes which taste like cardboard or Celotex, but which are easy to swallow if mixed with cream, strawberries, or peaches! The third stage is the ice-cream stage: the more you have, the more you want. Only your country, my North American friends, has achieved this last stage, while mine, I hope, has passed the first stage! I cannot finish without pointing out what one of the leaders of the Point Four Program has said: "Happy people are healthy people. I cannot see much prospect for peace and prosperity in a people racked with malaria, plagued by flies, besieged with lice, ticks, mites and fleas!" I am glad that I have been able to point out to you two different patients. One is well on her way to recovery-Venezuela; another is still a pueblo enfermo that even yet needs the care and help of her kind relatives, as well as of her own will power, to get well. which could be remedied. While at La Paz the selection of doctors, sanitary engineers, nurses, and other health workers is still a political matter, in Venezuela the individuals are selected on the basis of their own merits. The budget for national hospitals alone in Venezuela is over 50,000,000 Bolivares. The largest hospital at the city of La Paz has less than twenty American cents per day per patient! The greatest difference I find is between the attitude of the Venezuelan and Bolivian people toward their health services. Ingeniero Cristobal Morales, now a guest of this University under the Point Four Program, remarks with great pride that the health situation today in Venezuela is "very good." He has also given me the latest data as to the birth rate and mortality rate during the last six months of 1951. Bolivia still has the second highest infant mortality on the continent. III I believe that the great ideals of Christianity and democracy are not achieved overnight. I believe that they too have stages of development. The first stage is the castor-oil stage. Some countries take to Christianity and democracy like one who takes castor oil-only when it is needed. The second stage is the breakfast-food stage. One takes wheaties, corn flakes, rice flakes, and all the other flakes which taste like cardboard or Celotex, but which are easy to swallow if mixed with cream, strawberries, or peaches! The third stage is the ice-cream stage: the more you have, the more you want. Only your country, my North American friends, has achieved this last stage, while mine, I hope, has passed the first stage! I cannot finish without pointing out what one of the leaders of the Point Four Program has said: "Happy people are healthy people. I cannot see much prospect for peace and prosperity in a people racked with malaria, plagued by flies, besieged with lice, ticks, mites and fleas!" I am glad that I have been able to point out to you two different patients. One is well on her way to recovery-Venezuela; another is still a pueblo enfermo that even yet needs the care and help of her kind relatives, as well as of her own will power, to get well. 22 The Caribbean which could be remedied. While at La Paz the selection of doctors, sanitary engineers, nurses, and other health workers is still a political matter, in Venezuela the individuals are selected on the basis of their own merits. The budget for national hospitals alone in Venezuela is over 50,000,000 Bolivares. The largest hospital at the city of La Paz has less than twenty American cents per day per patient! The greatest difference I find is between the attitude of the Venezuelan and Bolivian people toward their health services. Ingeniem Crist6bal Morales, now a guest of this University under the Point Four Program, remarks with great pride that the health situation today in Venezuela is "very good." He has also given me the latest data as to the birth rate and mortality rate during the last six months of 1951. Bolivia still has the second highest infant mortality on the continent. III I believe that the great ideals of Christianity and democracy are not achieved overnight. I believe that they too have stages of development. The first stage is the castor-oil stage. Some countries take to Christianity and democracy like one who takes castor oil-only when it is needed. The second stage is the breakfast-food stage. One takes wheaties, corn flakes, rice flakes, and all the other flakes which taste like cardboard or Celotex, but which are easy to swallow if mixed with cream, strawberries, or peaches! The third stage is the ice-cream stage: the more you have, the more you want. Only your country, my North American friends, has achieved this last stage, while mine, I hope, has passed the first stage! I cannot finish without pointing out what one of the leaders of the Point Four Program has said: "Happy people are healthy people. I cannot see much prospect for peace and prosperity in a people racked with malaria, plagued by flies, besieged with lice, ticks, mites and fleas!" I am glad that I have been able to point out to you two different patients. One is well on her way to recovery-Venezuela; another is still a pueblo enfermo that even yet needs the care and help of her kind relatives, as well as of her own will power, to get well.  HEALTH 23 HEALTH 23 First as a Bolivian, then at a Latin Amserican, and, aboe all, as anothee Americano Ciente per Cienta, I want tn say tn yea what istsaid in Matthew 10:7andl8: The kingdanm of heavens is at hand. Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast aut devils: freely yehave received, freely glee. First as a Bnlivian, ten as a Latin American, and, aboe all, as anethee Americana Ciento per Ciento, I want tn say to yoa what is said in Mattew 10:7 aned 8: The kingdoms af heaven is at hand. Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils: freely ye have recesited, freely give. HEALTH A) First at a Relivian, ten as a Latin Asneeican, and, above all, as anoterAmericanosCientosporCiento, Iwanet ay toyou what is said in Mattew 10:7yandl8: The kingdsm af heaven is at hand. Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast aut devils: freely ye hare received, freely giee.   Part II Part II Part II LAND LAND LAND   4 James G. Maddox:' THE MAJOR LAND UTILIZATION PROBLEMS OF THE CARIBBEAN AREA THE PURPOSE of this paper is to suggest the main objectives toward which land utilization policies in the Caribbean countries should move. At the same time, some of the obvious techniques for achieving these objectives are discussed. The emphasis is on clearing a few main trails through the jungle, and not on making a careful survey of the whole complex terrain. All of the suggested lines of approach need much more study and discussion before they can become safe guides to action in particular countries. How- ever, a definite attempt is made to put forth the main issues in a simple, straightforward manner, and to maintain a focus on these issues, without reference to the problem of political expediency which is always a component of policy-making. The general nature of the poblem can be stated in very simple terms: How can the land in the Caribbean countries be most wisely used in order to raise the level of living of the people? In other words, the center of emphasis is on improving levels of living. t The views expressed in this paper are these of the author, and should not be construed as official statements of the American International Associ- ation. Robert C. Canthorn, Assistant Prongres Analyst in the New York office of the Association, has been extremely helpful in assembling statistical material and library references used in the preparation of the article, as well as is giving useful criticisms and suggestions respecting the presentation. 27 James G. Maddox:' THE MAJOR LAND UTILIZATION PROBLEMS OF THE CARIBBEAN AREA THE PURPOSE of this paper is to suggest the main objectives toward which land utilization policies in the Caribbean countries should move. At the same time, some of the obvious techniques for achieving these objectives are discussed. The emphasis is on clearing a few main trails through the jungle, and not on making a careful survey of the whole complex terrain. All of the suggested lines of approach need much more study and discussion before they can become safe guides to action in particular countries. How- ever, a definite attempt is made to put forth the main issues in a simple, straightforward manner, and to maintain a focus on these issues, without reference to the problem of political expediency which is always a component of policy-making. The general nature of the problem can be stated in very simple terms: How can the land in the Caribbean countries be most wisely used in order to raise the level of living of the people? In other words, the center of emphasis is on improving levels of living. 1 The views expressed in this paper are those of the author, and should not be construed as official statesents of the American International Associ- ation. Robert C. Canthorn, Assistant Progran Analyst in the New York office of the Association, has been extremely helpful in assembling statistical material and library references used in the preparation of the article, as well as in giving useful criticisms and suggestions respecting the presentation. 27 James G. Maddox:' THE MAJOR LAND UTILIZATION PROBLEMS OF THE CARIBBEAN AREA THE PURPOSE of this paper is to suggest the main objectives toward which land utilization policies in the Caribbean countries should move. At the same time, some of the obvious techniques for achieving these objectives are discussed. The emphasis is on clearing a few main trails through the jungle, and not on making a careful survey of the whole complex terrain. All of the suggested lines of approach need much more study and discussion before they can become safe guides to action in particular countries. How- ever, a definite attempt is made to put forth the main issues in a simple, straightforward manner, and to maintain a focus on these issues, without reference to the problem of political expediency which is always a component of policy-making. The general nature of the problem can be stated in very simple terms: How can the land in the Caribbean countries be most wisely used in order to raise tke level of living of the people? In other words, the center of emphasis is on improving levels of living. 1 The views expressed in this paper are these of the author, and should not be construed as official statenents of the American Iaternational Associ- ation. Robert C. Cauthern, Assistant Program Analyst in the New York office of the Association, has been extremely helpful in asseminng statistical material and library references used in the preparation of the article, as well as in giving useful criticisms and suggestions respecting the presentation.  28 The Caribbean Our examinations of land-use practices, problems, and policies is for the purpose of finding ways and means by which this can be done. The basic idea behind the shorthand symbol "level of living" is, like Gaul, divided into three parts: First, it includes a series of material things, such as food, clothing, houses, furniture, mads, hospitals, schoolhouses, automo- biles, and a million-and-one gadgets which people utilize in the process of living. Second, it includes a group of non-material things, such as the services of doctors, lawyers, teachers, writers, musicians, and artists, which are services that people also make use of in the process of living, and which, therefore, have to be constantly replaced just as do the material things such as food and clothing. Third, it includes a series of psychological attitudes and emo- tional feelings which are exemplified by the degree of security, the freedom from fear, and the individual liberty which people enjoy. This third category of items presents some extremely thorny problems of analysis. For the most part, this paper centers at- tention on the first two groups-those goods and services which are utilized in the day-to-day processes of living. The amount of these goods and services available for consump- tion in any given country is dependent upon three things: (1) the total amount of goods and services produced; (2) the way in which they are distributed among the people; and (3) the division of the total output between current consumption items, on the one hand, and items that will be used for purposes of future production, on the other. If, for example, country A pro- duces twice as much per capita in any given year as does country B, and distributes this production equally as widely among its people, and does not use any greater amount of it for building new production facilities, which can only turn out goods or services in future years, then each inhabitant of country A will have twice as many goods and services to consume during the year as will each inhabitant of country B. In other words, two of the three important components of the level of living in country A will, for the year under consideration, be twice as high as in country B. 28 The Caribbean 28 The Caribbean Our examinations of land-use practices, problems, and policies is for the purpose of finding ways and means by which this can be done. The basic idea behind the shorthand symbol "level of living" is, like Gaul, divided into three parts: First, it includes a series of material things, such as food, clothing, houses, furniture, roads, hospitals, schoolhouses, automo- biles, and a million-and-one gadgets which people utilize in the process of living. Second, it includes a group of non-material things, such as the services of doctors, lawyers, teachers, writers, musicians, and artists, which are services that people also make use of in the process of living, and which, therefore, have to be constantly replaced just as do the material things such as food and clothing. Third, it includes a series of psychological attitudes and emo- tional feelings which are exemplified by the degree of security, the freedom from fear, and the individual liberty which people enjoy. This third category of items presents some extremely thorny problems of analysis. For the most part, this paper centers at- tention on the first two groups-those goods and services which are utilized in the day-to-day processes of living. The amount of these goods and services available for consump- tion in any given country is dependent upon three things: (1) the total amount of goods and services produced; (2) the way in which they are distributed among the people; and (3) the division of the total output between current consumption items, on the one hand, and items that will be used for purposes of future production, on the other. If, for example, country A pro- duces twice as much per capita in any given year as does country B, and distributes this production equally as widely among its people, and does not use any greater amount of it for building new production facilities, which can only turn out goods or services in future years, then each inhabitant of country A will have twice as many goods and services to consume during the year as will each inhabitant of country B. In other words, two of the three important components of the level of living in country A will, for the year under consideration, be twice as high as in country B. Our examinations of land-use practices, problems, and policies is for the purpose of finding ways and means by which this can be done. The basic idea behind the shorthand symbol "level of living" is, like Gaul, divided into three parts: First, it includes a series of material things, such as food, clothing, houses, furniture, roads, hospitals, schoolhouses, automo- biles, and a million-and-one gadgets which people utilize in the process of living. Second, it includes a group of non-material things, such as the services of doctors, lawyers, teachers, writers, musicians, and artists, which are services that people also make use of in the process of living, and which, therefore, have to be constantly replaced just as do the material things such as food and clothing. Third, it includes a series of psychological attitudes and emo- tional feelings which are exemplified by the degree of security, the freedom from fear, and the individual liberty which people enjoy. This third category of items presents some extremely thorny problems of analysis. For the most part, this paper centers at- tention on the first two groups-those goods and services which are utilized in the day-to-day processes of living. The amount of these goods and services available for consump- tion in any given country is dependent upon three things: (1) the total amount of goods and services produced; (2) the way in which they are distributed among the people; and (3) the division of the total output between current consumption items, on the one hand, and items that will be used for purposes of future production, on the other. If, for example, country A pro- duces twice as much per capita in any given year as does country B, and distributes this production equally as widely among its people, and does not use any greater amount of it for building new production facilities, which can only turn out goods or services in future years, then each inhabitant of country A will have twice as many goods and services to consume during the year as will each inhabitant of country B. In other words, two of the three important components of the level of living in country A will, for the year under consideration, be twice as high as in country B.  LAND 29 LAND 29 LAND If 29 II II The caantrles tauaing ass the Caribbeans asre notatiously lows produ'cers. Moreoe,thirecssasissaper'ate ia sauch awaythat a relatiely large prapartian at wat is preduced flatss en a lew' people ia the upper-isscose graups. Although reliable data are starce', is is probable that the proportion of curenat output which iseusedlaorlftsreproadactianafacilities is not anaimpotasstfactor' iss exsplaiain'g the essisting tea' levels af cantsumtptiass. Eens thaagh she smaldistribu'tian at isncame is seriaous, it is fairly clear that she big assd imspoat explassasiass fat the last levels of tiviag ia the Caribbeaa aeea is she laow pradactian pet mass. Ass index' af this lass pradusctiv'ity is givess by the ssatianal incasses afthsetcaossties. Natiassal isscomte is the tatal of all incense pay- meats fat praductives services, isscludissg stages, salaties, profits, resst, assd interest. Is is, tberefoce, clasely equiealent ta tbe tatal s'leaofallsbhe'gadsandersices pradsced inh'coney. If tbe ssatioaal isscases at cauntes sach at El Salvsadar, Haiti, st Dominican' Repablic, Hondatas, Nicaragua, assd Gusateasala wr divided tqually among all tht peaplt is' these cos'astries, tht ams'nt steald bt btls's $100 ptt petan.s' Issdetd, as's a single cousstsy touching en the Catibbean has ass as'erage pee capita isscame asse-half as high as she state of Mississippi, sthich usually ranhs as she bossem s'f the list amass0 the Ussited Stases .t That, regard- less of bowstshe tetal pie is cat, it simply is nots bigesoughe so prov'side all she people sth a decent level of living. Therefoe, a majar'ele'messsof oarprolem isclear: Whatscas be does, is' she stay ofl changes ins land ate, to' raise the pet capitaprs'ductis'itys'f the Caibbanscoun'ties? It isimp'etast to tealiae that the fs'cus is s'n taising theontpas of the stbole' e'co'nomy-not jest the otpat nof the land orsof the agricuturaln industry. We ate in teested in changing land utilizasion practices in each country en asto eniscrease the tetal productions of all goods 2 tatistical Offices oft the United Nation's, National and Pers Capita' Is- noesof Seenty Countres is 1949 (New Yorh, Octoer, 1950), Setis E, Ne. 1, p. 28. aThe pen capita income is the state ofS Mississippi fs'r t94t as $758. United tates Bureau at the Census, Satstinal Abtrtact ef the' United Satss 1950 (Washington, 1950), p. 266n. The countreiss teaching en the Caibbean as's notor'iously lest peodacees. Moreove,theiseconomiespeate intauchastaythat a relatiely large proportion nof what is produced flos toe a fest people in she upper-incoes geoups. Although eliable data ae scans's, it is probable that the proportion nof cuerens oasput sthich is need Itor Inture production facilities is net ass imsportant facts's in explaining the exitting lest leels at consumption. Evn thoagh she maldisteibusion nof incense is teems's, it is filt cleat that the big and imsportant explanasion fee the loe l nof lis'ing in she Caribbean area is she lest peoducsion pee man. An index nof this lest productivity is given by the national incenses at these caneries. National incense is the sosal nof all incense pay- ments fee prodactives sertsice's, including stages, salars's, profits, tent, and interest. It is, therefore, closely eqaivalent as' she eoal s'alueeofall thegodsadsericesproeduced inthe conty. If she nationsal incenses at coantes sutch as El Salvador, Haiti, the Domnssican Republic, Honduas, Nicaragua, and uasemaela wr divided equally amng all the people in these countries, she amons stoald he heleow $100 pen persen.s' Indeed, net a single coantry teaching en she Catibbean has as' average pee capita incoens oe-half as high as she state at Mississippi, sthich usually raaks as she battenso tO he list amnseg the United States.t That, regard- less at bes tshe tetal pie is cuts, is simply is net big enough en provide all the people stith a decent levs'el of living. Thersefoe, amajoreeentftourproblemnsclear: Whatscan' be does, in the stay ofl changes in land uss', to raise she pee capita peoductivity of the Caribbean coantries? Is is imsportant en realiaze that she fees's is en raising the ouspus t s he stholte econmy-not jet she output of the land ortof the agricultaral indastry. We as's interested in changing land utiliation peactices in each contry en as en increase the tetal production af all goods a Stistical Office tf the United Natins, Natina' and Pers Capita In- noes ef 0Secventy Couassnes is 1949 (Nest Yoth, Octobee, 1950), tres E, Na. 1, p. 28. sThe pers capita intense in thet state at Mississippi tee 1948 as $758. Un'iedttsesfBureauaotthe Cnss, SatisicalAtat oftheUite'd Stats: 1950 (Washington, 1950), p. 266'. Tbhe cantaies teaching en she Caribbean ne notoiosly last producers. Moeovser, theiraeco'nomesopeate in suchsacay tht a elatively large' proportion af wthat is produced flews en a lest people in the uppee-income gronps. Although reliable data as's scarce, is is probable that she proportion at carnest ouspat which is need Is's Insue production facilities is net as' important factor en exeplainsing the exsiting lest teelts at consumption. Es'en ehough she maldistribution at incense is serios, it is fairl7 cleat that the big and imepo'rtnt eaplanations fee the lest levele at living in she Caribbean attn is the last produntion pee man. An indexs of this last productivity is gien by she national incenses tof these conties. National incense is the eoal of all incense pay- meats fee peoductei services, including stages, salars's, proflits, tent, and intereest. Is is, therefore, closely equ'ivalente en the tetal vanlue'ofall the godsnd ericsprdu'ced inthecounaty. If the national incenses nof conterissuech as El Salvado, Haiti, she Domnssican Republic, Honderas, Nicaragua, and Gatemala er dis'ided equally ansong all the people in these countres, the ansount stould be belost $100 pers pes'etn.a Indeed, net a single canery teaching an she Catibbean has an nerage per capita inconse onse-half as high as the state at Mississippi, sthich usally eanks as the battenso tO he list ansong she United Statse.s' Thee, regaed- less of bes tshe tetal pie is cat, it simply is as's bigs'enoufh en provside all she people sth a decent levs'sl at liing. Thersefores, amajorn element atou anproblemsis cleat: Whatecan be doe, in she stay at changes in land ass', en tae the pee capita peoductivity at the Caribbean counstries? Is is imsportant en tealizes that she Incas is ass ralting she otpeeut s he w'hole econonsy-not just the outeput aftshe land or of the agricultural industry. We as's inteeted in changing land utitiatin praceitee in each country s' as tn increase the nasal production tof all goods 2 tistical Office af the United Nations, National nd Pers Capita Is- ne Sevents' Contes is 1049 (Nen Yoth, Octobee, 1950), trins E, Ne. 1, p. 28. sThe pea capita incense in she sate at Mississippi fee 1048 wat $758. United tases teas at the Ceases, Statiatinal Abtat af the' Untied Seats' toss' (Washingtonn, 19591. p. 2s'6.  30 The Caribbean and services in that country. What are the general directions in which to proceed? This is the basic question, and it forces us to recognize that there are significant differences in the relative proportions of productive resources among the Caribbean countries. Consequently, we cannot write one prescription to fit the needs of all the patients. Yet, without losing sight of the forest by getting lost among the trees, we can classify the Caribbean countries into three roughly similar groups and get a reasonably good answer to our question. Countries of High Population Pressure.-For example, in the British West Indies, the French West Indies, El Salvador, Puerto Rico, Haiti, and the Virgin Islands, we have a group of countries in which the main problem is compounded of four factors. First, there is an unusually heavy population in relation to natural resources. Second, a very high proportion of the total population is engaged in agriculture. Third, the amount of land and capital equipment employed by the average farm family is small and of dubious quality. Fourth, the population is increasing rapidly. This adds up to a situation of extreme poverty for the great majority of the people, with little prospect for fundamental improvement until there can be basic adjustments in the relative proportions of land, labor, and capital used in production. Their economies are too heavily dependent on agriculture, and too much labor is used per acre of land operated. In this group of countries there are from 150 to 650 persons per square mile, and in some of the individual islands the number is more than 1,000. This compares with about 50 persons per square mile in the United States, with 192 in France, 531 in the highly industrialized United Kingdom, and approximately 285 per square mile in India.4 The latter is often thought of as the world's prime example of an overpopulated country, but several of the Caribbean countries have a higher density per square mile. Popu- lations of this density can, of course, be supported at reasonably adequate levels of living in a highly industrialized setting, such as Belgium, Great Britain, or the northeastern part of the United States. In a country like Holland, with a highly rationalized 4 United Nations, Statistical Yearbook, 1949-50. Figures have been con- verted at 2.59 km2 per square mile, and rounded to nearest whole number. 30 The Caribbean 30 The Caribbean and services in that country. What are the general directions in which to proceed? This is the basic question, and it forces us to recognize that there are significant differences in the relative proportions of productive resources among the Caribbean countries. Consequently, we cannot write one prescription to fit the needs of all the patients. Yet, without losing sight of the forest by getting lost among the trees, we can classify the Caribbean countries into three roughly similar groups and get a reasonably good answer to our question. Countries of High Population Pressure.-For example, in the British West Indies, the French West Indies, El Salvador, Puerto Rico, Haiti, and the Virgin Islands, we have a group of countries in which the main problem is compounded of four factors. First, there is an unusually heavy population in relation to natural resources. Second, a very high proportion of the total population is engaged in agriculture. Third, the amount of land and capital equipment employed by the average farm family is small and of dubious quality. Fourth, the population is increasing rapidly. This adds up to a situation of extreme poverty for the great majority of the people, with little prospect for fundamental improvement until there can be basic adjustments in the relative proportions of land, labor, and capital used in production. Their economies are too heavily dependent on agriculture, and too much labor is used per acre of land operated. In this group of countries there are from 150 to 650 persons per square mile, and in some of the individual islands the number is more than 1,000. This compares with about 50 persons per square mile in the United States, with 192 in France, 531 in the highly industrialized United Kingdom, and approximately 285 per square mile in India.4 The latter is often thought of as the world's prime example of an overpopulated country, but several of the Caribbean countries have a higher density per square mile. Popu- lations of this density can, of course, be supported at reasonably adequate levels of living in a highly industrialized setting, such as Belgium, Great Britain, or the northeastern part of the United States. In a country like Holland, with a highly rationalized 4 United Nations, Statistical Yearbook, 1949-50. Figures have been con- verted at 2.59 km2 per square mile, and rounded to nearest whole number. and services in that country. What are the general directions in which to proceed? This is the basic question, and it forces us to recognize that there are significant differences in the relative proportions of productive resources among the Caribbean countries. Consequently, we cannot write one prescription to fit the needs of all the patients. Yet, without losing sight of the forest by getting lost among the trees, we can classify the Caribbean countries into three roughly similar groups and get a reasonably good answer to our question. Countries of High Population Pressure.-For example, in the British West Indies, the French West Indies, El Salvador, Puerto Rico, Haiti, and the Virgin Islands, we have a group of countries in which the main problem is compounded of four factors. First, there is an unusually heavy population in relation to natural resources. Second, a very high proportion of the total population is engaged in agriculture. Third, the amount of land and capital equipment employed by the average farm family is small and of dubious quality. Fourth, the population is increasing rapidly. This adds up to a situation of extreme poverty for the great majority of the people, with little prospect for fundamental improvement until there can be basic adjustments in the relative proportions of land, labor, and capital used in production. Their economies are too heavily dependent on agriculture, and too much labor is used per acre of land operated. In this group of countries there are from 150 to 650 persons per square mile, and in some of the individual islands the number is more than 1,000. This compares with about 50 persons per square mile in the United States, with 192 in France, 531 in the highly industrialized United Kingdom, and approximately 285 per square mile in India.4 The latter is often thought of as the world's prime example of an overpopulated country, but several of the Caribbean countries have a higher density per square mile. Popu- lations of this density can, of course, be supported at reasonably adequate levels of living in a highly industrialized setting, such as Belgium, Great Britain, or the northeastern part of the United States. In a country like Holland, with a highly rationalized 4 United Nations, Statistical Yearbook, 1949-50. Figures have been con- verted at 2.59 km per square mile, and rounded to nearest whole number.  LAND 31 LAND 31 LAND agriculture producing specialty crops for sale to nearoy urban areas, and with heavy flows of income from shipping, insurance, banking, and overseas investments, a population of over 700 per square mile has been maintained at a relatively high level of living. But all these things are lacking in this group of Caribbean countries. Industry is extremely meager, and income from foreign commere and investments is practically nil. From 60 to 80 per cent of the people in these countries are occupied in agriculture.5 Moreover, a large proportion of the land is mountainous and unsuited to farming. Such crops as are produced are of low value per unit, and are highly competitive with those of other countries in world markets. One man handles very little land, and his capital equipment is often not much more than a hoe, a machete, and a spade. This results in extremely low production per man, and an equally low level of living. As an example, let us compare a West Indian laborer on a sugar plantation with a Mississippi sharecropper on a cotton planta- tion. The latter will cultivate ten to twelve acres of land, using mules and walking plows, on which he will produce six to eight bales of cotton, which, with the accompanying seed, will have a gross value of $1,000 to $1,500 in recent years. The former will handle two to three acres of sugar cane, which will produce six to nine tons and have a gross value of $500 to $800. Thus, the West Indian sugar worker produces about one-half as much as the Mississippi sharecropper, who is just about at the lower end of the productivity scale among workers in the United States. The fundamental reason for this is not differences in the productivity of the land, but in the number of acres handled per man. Indeed, it would be difficult to find land which produces in field crops a greater value of product per acre than good Caribbean sugar land. The situation is essentially the same if we look at the small 5 Estimates of these percentages for the countries concerned in this study range from about 40 per cent in Cuba to over 90 per cent in Guatemala, with the modal figure for the distribution probably close to 70 per cent. These high concentrations in agricultural populations contrast sharply with those in the United States and Europe, where the percentages averaged 19 per cent and 33 per cent, respectively, for the period 1939- 1948. Food and Agricultural Organization of the United Nations, Yearbook of Food and Agricultural Statistics (Washington, 1950), Vol. IV, Part I, pp. 15 and 16. agriculture producing specialty crops for sale to nearoy urban areas, and with heavy flows of income from shipping, insurance, banking, and overseas investments, a population of over 700 per square mile has been maintained at a relatively high level of living. But all these things are lacking in this group of Caribbean countries. Industry is extremely meager, and income from foreign commerce and investments is practically nil. From 60 to 80 per cent of the people in these countries are occupied in agriculture.5 Moreover, a large proportion of the land is mountainous and unsuited to farming. Such crops as are produced are of low value per unit, and are highly competitive with those of other countries in world markets. One man handles very little land, and his capital equipment is often not much more than a hoe, a machete, and a spade. This results in extremely low production per man, and an equally low level of living. As an example, let us compare a West Indian laborer on a sugar plantation with a Mississippi sharecropper on a cotton planta- tion. The latter will cultivate ten to twelve acres of land, using mules and walking plows, on which he will produce six to eight bales of cotton, which, with the accompanying seed, will have a gross value of $1,000 to $1,500 in recent years. The former will handle two to three acres of sugar cane, which will produce six to nine tons and have a gross value of $500 to $800. Thus, the West Indian sugar worker produces about one-half as much as the Mississippi sharecropper, who is just about at the lower end of the productivity scale among workers in the United States. The fundamental reason for this is not differences in the productivity of the land, but in the number of acres handled per man. Indeed, it would be difficult to find land which produces in field crops a greater value of product per acre than good Caribbean sugar land. The situation is essentially the same if we look at the small s Estimates of these percentages for the countries concerned in this study range from about 40 per cent in Cuba to over 90 per cent in Guatemala, with the modal figure for the distribution probably close to 70 per cent. These high concentrations in agricultural populations contrast sharply with those in the United States and Europe, where the percentages averaged 19 per cent and 33 per cent, respectively, for the period 1939- 1948. Food and Agricultural Organization of the United Nations, Yearbook of Food and Agricultural Statistics (Washington, 1950), Vol. IV, Part I, pp. 15 and 16. agriculture producing specialty crops for sale to nearoy urban areas, and with heavy flows of income from shipping, insurance, banking, and overseas investments, a population of over 700 per square mile has been maintained at a relatively high level of living. But all these things are lacking in this group of Caribbean countries. Industry is extremely meager, and income from foreign commerce and investments is practically nil. From 60 to 80 per cent of the people in these countries are occupied in agriculture.t Moreover, a large proportion of the land is mountainous and unsuited to farming. Such crops as are produced are of low value per unit, and are highly competitive with those of other countries in world markets. One man handles very little land, and his capital equipment is often not much more than a hoe, a machete, and a spade. This results in extremely low production per man, and an equally low level of living. As an example, let us compare a West Indian laborer on a sugar plantation with a Mississippi sharecropper on a cotton planta- tion. The latter will cultivate ten to twelve acres of land, using mules and walking plows, on which he will produce six to eight bales of cotton, which, with the accompanying seed, will have a gross value of $1,000 to $1,500 in recent years. The former will handle two to three acres of sugar cane, which will produce six to nine tons and have a gross value of $500 to $800. Thus, the West Indian sugar worker produces about one-half as much as the Mississippi sharecropper, who is just about at the lower end of the productivity scale among workers in the United States. The fundamental reason for this is not differences in the productivity of the land, but in the number of acres handled per man. Indeed, it would be difficult to find land which produces in field crops a greater value of product per acre than good Caribbean sugar land. The situation is essentially the same if we look at the small 5 Estimates of these percentages for the countries concerned in this study range from about 40 per cent in Cuba to over 90 per cent in Guatemala, with the modal figure for the distribution probably close to 70 per cent. These high concentrations in agricultural populations contrast sharply with those in the United States and Europe, where the percentages averaged 19 per cent and 33 per cent, respectively, for the period 1939- 1948. Food and Agricultural Organization of the United Nations, Yearbook of Food and Agricultural Statistics (Washington, 1950), Vol. IV, Part I, pp. 15 and 16.  32 The Caribbean peasant farmer. In these highly overpopulated countries, the thousands of small, more or less independent, farmers rarely operate more than two or three acres of land per family. Even if they are up in the hills producing coffee or fruit, and have fifteen to twenty acres, the value of their total output is often, if not usually, less than the value of the output of two or three acres of good level land. It is absolutely fruitless to talk about ways and means of signifi- cantly increasing productivity, hence levels of living, in this group of countries without facing up to the necessity of transferring large numbers of people out of agriculture. Except for the small numbers of vegetable, poultry, and flower growers around the cities, no man-weak or strong, educated or illiterate-can make a decent living for his family from two to three acres of land. He simply has to be able to cultivate more acres, and this means that a large proportion of the present farm people, and their ever increasing progeny, must find employment outside the area or in non- farm occupations. In general, I believe it means that a heroic effort must be made to bring industries to these countries. Some progress can perhaps be made in encouraging a greater use of the sea, both as a source of food and as a basis for a shipping industry. Moreover, there are some possibilities for out-migration, both to other Caribbean countries and to the United States. Although we run into the problem of immigration quotas and racial discrimination as im- pediments to out-migration, something might be accomplished toward loosening these barriers. Moreover, I am not unmindful of the fact that there is still unused land in most of these countries that can be brought into cultivation. The amount is probably smaller than is sometimes suggested, but every reasonable effort should be made to bring new land into cultivation, by clearing, draining, and irrigating areas that are adapted to farming. Last, but by no means least, there are substantial opportunities for increasing the output of many of the acres now being cultivated. This is especially true of the lands outside the large plantations- the farms, in other words, of the small owner and tenant. Sub- stantial gairs along this line can be brought about through a more widespread use of modern insecticides and fungicides; through the use of organic compost and chemical fertilizers; through the 32 The Caribbean peasant farmer. In these highly overpopulated countries, the thousands of small, more or less independent, farmers rarely operate more than two or three acres of land per family. Even if they are up in the hills producing coffee or fruit, and have fifteen to twenty acres, the value of their total output is often, if not usually, less than the value of the output of two or three acres of good level land. It is absolutely fruitless to talk about ways and means of signifi- cantly increasing productivity, hence levels of living, in this group of countries without facing up to the necessity of transferring large numbers of people out of agriculture. Except for the small numbers of vegetable, poultry, and flower growers around the cities, no man-weak or strong, educated or illiterate-can make a decent living for his family from two to three acres of land. He simply has to be able to cultivate more acres, and this means that a large proportion of the present farm people, and their ever increasing progeny, must find employment outside the area or in non- farm occupations. In general, I believe it means that a heroic effort must be made to bring industries to these countries. Some progress can perhaps be made in encouraging a greater use of the sea, both as a source of food and as a basis for a shipping industry. Moreover, there are some possibilities for out-migration, both to other Caribbean countries and to the United States. Although we run into the problem of immigration quotas and racial discrimination as im- pediments to out-migration, something might be accomplished toward loosening these barriers. Moreover, I am not unmindful of the fact that there is still unused land in most of these countries that can be brought into cultivation. The amount is probably smaller than is sometimes suggested, but every reasonable effort should be made to bring new land into cultivation, by clearing, draining, and irrigating areas that are adapted to farming. Last, but by no means least, there are substantial opportunities for increasing the output of many of the acres now being cultivated. This is especially true of the lands outside the large plantations- the farms, in other words, of the small owner and tenant. Sub- stantial gair; along this line can be brought about through a more widespread use of modern insecticides and fungicides; through the use of organic compost and chemical fertilizers; through the 32 The Caribbean peasant farmer. In these highly overpopulated countries, the thousands of small, more or less independent, farmers rarely operate more than two or three acres of land per family. Even if they are up in the hills producing coffee or fruit, and have fifteen to twenty acres, the value of their total output is often, if not usually, less than the value of the output of two or three acres of good level land. It is absolutely fruitless to talk about ways and means of signifi- cantly increasing productivity, hence levels of living, in this group of countries without facing up to the necessity of transferring large numbers of people out of agriculture. Except for the small numbers of vegetable, poultry, and flower growers around the cities, no man-weak or strong, educated or illiterate-can make a decent living for his family fmm two to three acres of land. He simply has to be able to cultivate more acres, and this means that a large proportion of the present farm people, and their ever increasing progeny, must find employment outside the area or in non- farm occupations. In general, I believe it means that a heroic effort must be made to bring industries to these countries. Some progress can perhaps be made in encouraging a greater use of the sea, both as a source of food and as a basis for a shipping industry. Moreover, there are some possibilities for out-migration, both to other Caribbean countries and to the United States. Although we run into the problem of immigration quotas and racial discrimination as im- pediments to out-migration, something might be accomplished toward loosening these barriers. Moreover, I am not unmindful of the fact that there is still unused land in most of these countries that can be brought into cultivation. The amount is probably smaller than is sometimes suggested, but every reasonable effort should be made to bring new land into cultivation, by clearing, draining, and irrigating areas that are adapted to farming. Last, but by no means least, there are substantial opportunities for increasing the output of many of the acres now being cultivated. This is especially true of the lands outside the large plantations- the farms, in other words, of the small owner and tenant. Sub- stantial gairr along this line can be brought about through a more widespread use of modern insecticides and fungicides; through the use of organic compost and chemical fertilizers; through the  LAND 33 LAND 33 LAND 33 development of higher yielding strains and varieties of plants; and through more timely planting and cultivating practices. There is ample opportunity for the modern-minded agricultural scientist to have a great and constructive influence in increasing production per acre. In a later section of this paper, the methods and organi- zational patterns which appear to be suited to this task are discussed. Nevertheless, even with all these things-greater use of the sea, out-migration, cultivation of presently unused lands, and higher yields per acre from land now being cultivated-there will still be a surplus of people in agriculture in this group of countries. No real rationalization of land use can come about until families are able to operate substantially larger acreages than at present. I repeat, therefore, that the main direction in which to proceed is toward industrialization, thus drawing the rapidly increasing popu- lation out of agriculture. The techniques by which to achieve the needed industrialization are beyond the scope of a paper which is concerned primarily with problems of land utilization. However, I believe that it must be an industrialization: (1) which is based on a cheap labor supply; (2) which finds both its principal raw materials and its main markets outside the area; and (3) which obtains most of its capital and managerial talent, during the first generation, at least, from the presently industrialized countries of the world. Countries of Low Population Pressure.-Fortunately, only a few countries in the Caribbean region present such tough problems as those we have just been discussing. At the other extreme of popu- lation density, for example, we have such countries as Venezuela, Colombia, Honduras, Nicaragua, British Honduras, and Guatemala. In this group of countries, the population per square mile is relatively low-below twenty-five persons except in the latter two. There is, of course, much land in these countries that is not suitable for agriculture. Nevertheless, each has large areas of good un- developed land. Taken as a group, these five countries represent "the great frontier" for future agricultural development in the Caribbean region. Neither the extent, the quality, nor the economic potentialities of the untapped agricultural resources of these countries have been carefully evaluated. Nevertheless, all indications point toward development of higher yielding strains and varieties of plants; and through more timely planting and cultivating practices. There is ample opportunity for the modern-minded agricultural scientist to have a great and constructive influence in increasing production per acre. In a later section of this paper, the methods and organi- zational patterns which appear to be suited to this task are discussed. Nevertheless, even with all these things-greater use of the sea, out-migration, cultivation of presently unused lands, and higher yields per acre from land now being cultivated-there will still be a surplus of people in agriculture in this group of countries. No real rationalization of land use can come about until families are able to operate substantially larger acreages than at present. I repeat, therefore, that the main direction in which to proceed is toward industrialization, thus drawing the rapidly increasing popu- lation out of agriculture. The techniques by which to achieve the needed industrialization are beyond the scope of a paper which is concerned primarily with problems of land utilization. However, I believe that it must be an industrialization: (1) which is based on a cheap labor supply; (2) which finds both its principal raw materials and its main markets outside the area; and (3) which obtains most of its capital and managerial talent, during the first generation, at least, from the presently industrialized countries of the world. Countries of Low Population Pressure.-Fortunately, only a few countries in the Caribbean region present such tough problems as those we have just been discussing. At the other extreme of popu- lation density, for example, we have such countries as Venezuela, Colombia, Honduras, Nicaragua, British Honduras, and Guatemala. In this group of countries, the population per square mile is relatively low-below twenty-five persons except in the latter two. There is, of course, much land in these countries that is not suitable for agriculture. Nevertheless, each has large areas of good un- developed land. Taken as a group, these five countries represent "the great frontier" for future agricultural development in the Caribbean region. Neither the extent, the quality, nor the economic potentialities of the untapped agricultural resources of these countries have been carefully evaluated. Nevertheless, all indications point toward development of higher yielding strains and varieties of plants; and through more timely planting and cultivating practices. There is ample opportunity for the modern-minded agricultural scientist to have a great and constructive influence in increasing production per acre. In a later section of this paper, the methods and organi- zational patterns which appear to be suited to this task are discussed. Nevertheless, even with all these things-greater use of the sea, out-migration, cultivation of presently unused lands, and higher yields per acre from land now being cultivated-there will still be a surplus of people in agriculture in this group of countries. No real rationalization of land use can come about until families are able to operate substantially larger acreages than at present. I repeat, therefore, that the main direction in which to proceed is toward industrialization, thus drawing the rapidly increasing popu- lation out of agriculture. The techniques by which to achieve the needed industrialization are beyond the scope of a paper which is concerned primarily with problems of land utilization. However, I believe that it must be an industrialization: (1) which is based on a cheap labor supply; (2) which finds both its principal raw materials and its main markets outside the area; and (3) which obtains most of its capital and managerial talent, during the first generation, at least, from the presently industrialized countries of the world. Countries of Low Population Pressure.-Fortunately, only a few countries in the Caribbean region present such tough problems as those we have just been discussing. At the other extreme of popu- lation density, for example, we have such countries as Venezuela, Colombia, Honduras, Nicaragua, British Honduras, and Guatemala. In this group of countries, the population per square mile is relatively low-below twenty-five persons except in the latter two. There is, of course, much land in these countries that is not suitable for agriculture. Nevertheless, each has large areas of good un- developed land. Taken as a group, these five countries represent "the great frontier" for future agricultural development in the Caribbean region. Neither the extent, the quality, nor the economic potentialities of the untapped agricultural resources of these countries have been carefully evaluated. Nevertheless, all indications point toward  34 The Caribbean the conclusion that they are quite substantial. Moreover, in view of prospective demands for agricultural and forest products in the United States and Western Europe during the decades ahead, together with the rapidly increasing population, urbanization, and general economic development of Latin America which is already underway, there are good reasons to believe that a properly balanced program of public and private investment in the unde- veloped resources of these countries would be both profitable and socially desirable. What then is the main direction in which land policy should aim in order to increase national productivity, and, hence, levels of living in this group of countries? In general, steps should be taken toward opening up new lands for production, thus making possible an increase in the amount of land operated by great numbers of farm families. This, of course, implies an increase in working capital and improvements in managerial skill on the part of thousands of farmers so that they can effectively and efficiently operate more acres per man. In these countries, in contrast to the group with high population densities, there is no need to draw people away from farming in order to increase the cultivated land per family, because there is good, unused land available. Moreover, they are primarily agri- cultural countries, both by tradition and by the pattern of their resource base. Some modest industrialization is, no doubt, in order for practically all of them. However, it is certainly not necessary for any of them to have a rapid growth of industry, built on low wages and imported raw materials, and depending on foreign markets in which to sell their industrial products, as has been suggested for the first group of countries. They can raise their levels of living very significantly by making use of their greatest natural resource-undeveloped agricultural land. In the opening up of new land, there are, at least, two types of problems within each of these countries to which serious attention should be given immediately. First, practically all of them have one or more areas that are heavily overpopulated. In other words, there is a serious geographic maldistribution of population. Gener- ally, this takes the form of all or a part of the highland areas being seriously overcrowded, while lower-land areas, many of which are potentially very productive, go unused. The pattern of land use 34 The Caribbean 34 The Caribbean the conclusion that they are quite substantial. Moreover, in view of prospective demands for agricultural and forest products in the United States and Western Europe during the decades ahead, together with the rapidly increasing population, urbanization, and general economic development of Latin America which is already underway, there are good reasons to believe that a properly balanced program of public and private investment in the unde- veloped resources of these countries would be both profitable and socially desirable. What then is the main direction in which land policy should aim in order to increase national productivity, and, hence, levels of living in this group of countries? In general, steps should be taken toward opening up new lands for production, thus making possible an increase in the amount of land operated by great numbers of farm families. This, of course, implies an increase in working capital and improvements in managerial skill on the part of thousands of farmers so that they can effectively and efficiently operate more acres per man. In these countries, in contrast to the group with high population densities, there is no need to draw people away from farming in order to increase the cultivated land per family, because there is good, unused land available. Moreover, they are primarily agri- cultural countries, both by tradition and by the pattern of their resource base. Some modest industrialization is, no doubt, in order for practically all of them. However, it is certainly not necessary for any of them to have a rapid growth of industry, built on low wages and imported raw materials, and depending on foreign markets in which to sell their industrial products, as has been suggested for the first group of countries. They can raise their levels of living very significantly by making use of their greatest natural resource-undeveloped agricultural land. In the opening up of new land, there are, at least, two types of problems within each of these countries to which serious attention should be given immediately. First, practically all of them have one or more areas that are heavily overpopulated. In other words, there is a serious geographic maldistribution of population. Gener- ally, this takes the form of all or a part of the highland aras being seriously overcrowded, while lower-land areas, many of which are potentially very productive, go unused. The pattern of land use the conclusion that they are quite substantial. Moreover, in view of prospective demands for agricultural and forest products in the United States and Western Europe during the decades ahead, together with the rapidly increasing population, urbanization, and general economic development of Latin America which is already underway, there are good reasons to believe that a properly balanced program of public and private investment in the unde- veloped resources of these countries would be both profitable and socially desirable. What then is the main direction in which land policy should aim in order to increase national productivity, and, hence, levels of living in this group of countries? In general, steps should be taken toward opening up new lands for production, thus making possible an increase in the amount of land operated by great numbers of farm families. This, of course, implies an increase in working capital and improvements in managerial skill on the part of thousands of farmers so that they can effectively and efficiently operate more acres per man. In these countries, in contrast to the group with high population densities, there is no need to draw people away from farming in order to increase the cultivated land per family, because there is good, unused land available. Moreover, they are primarily agri- cultural countries, both by tradition and by the pattern of their resource base. Some modest industrialization is, no doubt, in order for practically all of them. However, it is certainly not necessary for any of them to have a rapid growth of industry, built on low wages and imported raw materials, and depending on foreign markets in which to sell their industrial products, as has been suggested for the first group of countries. They can raise their levels of living very significantly by making use of their greatest natural resource-undeveloped agricultural land. In the opening up of new land, there are, at least, two types of problems within each of these countries to which serious attention should be given immediately. First, practically all of them have one or more areas that are heavily overpopulated. In other words, there is a serious geographic maldistribution of population. Gener- ally, this takes the form of all or a part of the highland areas being seriously overcrowded, while lower-land areas, many of which are potentially very productive, go unused. The pattern of land use  LAND 35 LAND 35 LAND in many of the highland a-eas has essentially the same characteris- tics as that in the overpopulated countries discussed earlier. The farms ate small, often consisting of not more than three or four acres. The land is usually badly eroded. The methods of land preparation and tillage are primitive, sometimes involving the use of nothing more than a hoe, a stick, and a machete. Farms of this nature are, of course, very unproductive. The second type of problem needing immediate attention is that brought about by the semi-nomadic squatter-a small farmer who has neither ownership nor leasehold rights to the land he cultivates. He customarily "moves in" on any land available in his general area; dears two or three acres with a machete and fire; cultivates the new clearing for two or three years, and moves on to a new patch which he treats the same way. With this kind of farming, there is not only a wanton destruction of the soil and the vegetative cover which protects it from erosion, but also an extremely low output per man. In view of these two problems, which appear to be of major, though of varying, importance in all these countries, there is a need for programs to develop new land areas in such locations and by such methods as to: (1) bring about the resettlement of many small farmers from the overcrowded highlands; and (2) decrease the number of the constantly shifting squatters by provid- ing them with economic units to which they have stable tenure rights and facilities for efficient production. As the land develop- ment activities become effective in drawing families out of the overcrowded highlands, there will be the need for programs to consolidate the vacated holdings into the farms of those families who remain behind. In some instances, reforestation, instead of consolidation into larger farms, may be in order. The essential point is that the draining away of families from the overpopulated highlands should not only be a means by which the productivity of those who move would be increased, but should also result in those who do not move having increased resources at their command. To design and carry through a sound land development and resettlement program of this general character is no easy matter. Yet, it is much simpler and requires less capital than the indus- trialization necessary in the overpopulated countries. Two of the most important steps are: (1) to free the areas selected for in many of the highland areas has essentially the same characteris- tics as that in the overpopulated countries discussed earlier. The farms are small, often consisting of not more than three or four acres. The land is usually badly eroded. The methods of land preparation and tillage are primitive, sometimes involving the use of nothing more than a hoe, a stick, and a machete. Farms of this nature are, of course, very unproductive. The second type of problem needing immediate attention is that brought about by the semi-nomadic squatter-a small farmer who has neither ownership nor leasehold rights to the land he cultivates. He customarily "moves in" on any land available in his general ama; clears two or three acres with a machete and fire; cultivates the new clearing for two or three years, and moves on to a new patch which he treats the same way. With this kind of farming, there is not only a wanton destruction of the soil and the vegetative cover which protects it from erosion, but also an extremely low output per man. In view of these two problems, which appear to be of major, though of varying, importance in all these countries, there is a need for programs to develop new land areas in such locations and by such methods as to: (1) bring about the resettlement of many small farmers from the overcrowded highlands; and (2) decrease the number of the constantly shifting squatters by provid- ing them with economic units to which they have stable tenure rights and facilities for efficient production. As the land develop- ment activities become effective in drawing families out of the overcrowded highlands, there will be the need for programs to consolidate the vacated holdings into the farms of those families who remain behind. In some instances, reforestation, instead of consolidation into larger farms, may be in order. The essential point is that the draining away of families from the overpopulated highlands should not only be a means by which the productivity of those who move would be increased, but should also result in those who do not move having increased resources at their command. To design and carry through a sound land development and resettlement program of this general character is no easy matter. Yet, it is much simpler and requires less capital than the indus- trialization necessary in the overpopulated countries. Two of the most important steps are: (1) to free the areas selected for in many of the highland areas has essentially the same characteris- tics as that in the overpopulated countries discussed earlier. The farms are small, often consisting of not more than three or four acres. The land is usually badly eroded. The methods of land preparation and tillage are primitive, sometimes involving the use of nothing more than a hoe, a stick, and a machete. Farms of this nature are, of course, very unproductive. The second type of problem needing immediate attention is that brought about by the semi-nomadic squatter-a small farmer who has neither ownership nor leasehold rights to the land he cultivates. He customarily "moves in" on any land available in his general area; clears two or three acres with a machete and fire; cultivates the new clearing for two or three years, and moves on to a new patch which he treats the same way. With this kind of farming, there is not only a wanton destruction of the soil and the vegetative cover which protects it from erosion, but also an extremely low output per man. In view of these two problems, which appear to be of major, though of varying, importance in all these countries, there is a need for programs to develop new land areas in such locations and by such methods as to: (1) bring about the resettlement of many small farmers from the overcrowded highlands; and (2) decrease the number of the constantly shifting squatters by provid- ing them with economic units to which they have stable tenure rights and facilities for efficient production. As the land develop- ment activities become effective in drawing families out of the overcrowded highlands, there will be the need for programs to consolidate the vacated holdings into the farms of those families who remain behind. In some instances, reforestation, instead of consolidation into larger farms, may be in order. The essential point is that the draining away of families from the overpopulated highlands should not only be a means by which the productivity of those who move would be increased, but should also result in those who do not move having increased resources at their command. To design and carry through a sound land development and resettlement program of this general character is no easy matter. Yet, it is much simpler and requires less capital than the indus- trialization necessary in the overpopulated countries. Two of the most important steps are: (1) to free the areas selected for  36 The Caribbean settlement from diseases, such as malaria and jungle yellow fever; and (2) to construct roads through them. In addition, however, there will be the need for some publicly-financed land clearing; for machinery pools so that new settlers will not be held to a hoe and machete scale of operations; and for credit and technical guidance for the farmers moving into the new areas. The Latin American penchant for doing things in a big and dramatic way may have the tendency of making land development projects very expensive and complicated. It is to be hoped, however, that this tendency can be guarded against. A large number of relatively crude new settlements, provided the families have eco- nomic units and adequate capital and guidance, are much more important to the welfare of these countries than a small number of swanky ones. These countries do not have the resources, either technical or financial, to warrant heavy public investments in expensive new dwellings, fences, subsidiary roads, and community buildings during the early stages of land development. Many of these facilities can come later out of the efforts of the settlers. A certain amount of crudeness is to be expected in a developing frontier area. Indeed, there are situations in which it may be highly desirable. If, for instance, the developmental work has to be paid for from credit expansion or new currency issues, there should be a quick and voluminous flow of new farm products to market to offset the inflationary pressure arising from the land clearing and construction operations. In establishing new land settlement areas, it will be extremely important to create units of such size that they will allow efficient operations, without at the same time turning them into a new group of haciendas to be worked by peon labor. This problem is not going to be easy to solve. Most of the settlers will be inclined to stick to their hoe and machete, unless they are given an adequate line of credit together with technical guidance and supervision. In this connection, it should be remembered that the ox and the mule still have a place in providing power for farming, even if most farmers in the highly developed countries are turning rapidly to tractors. The possibility of farm machinery centers, either privately or publicly operated, to do the heavy land clearing and preparatory work, while family-owned oxen or mules are used for 36 The Caribbean 36 The Caribbean settlement frm diseases, such as malaria and jungle yellow fever; and (2) to construct roads through them. In addition, however, there will be the need for some publicly-financed land clearing; for machinery pools so that new settlers will not be held to a hoe and machete scale of operations; and for credit and technical guidance for the farmers moving into the new areas. The Latin American penchant for doing things in a big and dramatic way may have the tendency of making land development projects very expensive and complicated. It is to be hoped, however, that this tendency can be guarded against. A large number of relatively crude new settlements, provided the families have eco- nomic units and adequate capital and guidance, are much more important to the welfare of these countries than a small number of swanky ones. These countries do not have the resources, either technical or financial, to warrant heavy public investments in expensive new dwellings, fences, subsidiary roads, and community buildings during the early stages of land development. Many of these facilities can come later out of the efforts of the settlers. A certain amount of crudeness is to be expected in a developing frontier area. Indeed, there are situations in which it may be highly desirable. If, for instance, the developmental work has to be paid for from credit expansion or new currency issues, there should be a quick and voluminous flow of new farm products to market to offset the inflationary pressure arising from the land clearing and construction operations. In establishing new land settlement areas, it will be extremely important to create units of such size that they will allow efficient operations, without at the same time turning them into a new group of haciendas to be worked by peon labor. This problem is not going to be easy to solve. Most of the settlers will be inclined to stick to their hoe and machete, unless they are given an adequate line of credit together with technical guidance and supervision. In this connection, it should be remembered that the ox and the mule still have a place in providing power for farming, even if most farmers in the highly developed countries are turning rapidly to tractors. The possibility of farm machinery centers, either privately or publicly operated, to do the heavy land clearing and preparatory work, while family-owned oxen or mules are used for settlement frm diseases, such as malaria and jungle yellow fever; and (2) to construct roads through them. In addition, however, there will be the need for some publicly-financed land clearing; for machinery pools so that new settlers will not be held to a hoe and machete scale of operations; and for credit and technical guidance for the farmers moving into the new areas. The Latin American penchant for doing things in a big and dramatic way may have the tendency of making land development projects very expensive and complicated. It is to be hoped, however, that this tendency can be guarded against. A large number of relatively crude new settlements, provided the families have eco- nomic units and adequate capital and guidance, are much more important to the welfare of these countries than a small number of swanky ones. These countries do not have the resources, either technical or financial, to warrant heavy public investments in expensive new dwellings, fences, subsidiary roads, and community buildings during the early stages of land development. Many of these facilities can come later out of the efforts of the settlers. A certain amount of crudeness is to be expected in a developing frontier area. Indeed, there are situations in which it may be highly desirable. If, for instance, the developmental work has to be paid for from credit expansion or new currency issues, there should be a quick and voluminous flow of new farm products to market to offset the inflationary pressure arising from the land clearing and construction operations. In establishing new land settlement areas, it will be extremely important to create units of such size that they will allow efficient operations, without at the same time turning them into a new group of haciendas to be worked by peon labor. This problem is not going to be easy to solve. Most of the settlers will be inclined to stick to their hoe and machete, unless they are given an adequate line of credit together with technical guidance and supervision. In this connection, it should be remembered that the ox and the mule still have a place in providing power for farming, even if most farmers in the highly developed countries are turning rapidly to tractors. The possibility of farm machinery centers, either privately or publicly operated, to do the heavy land clearing and preparatory work, while family-owned oxen or mules are used for  LAND 37 planting, cultivating, and harvesting will probably provide an efficient source of farm power in a large perentage of the cases. In having focused attention on land development, including resettlement, as being the main direction which land policy should take in these "low pressure" countries of the Caribbean region, I do not want to overlook the obvious fact that there are many opportunities for increasing the productivity of the land now in farms. Some of this land which is well suited for crop production is being held in large estates for cattle grazing. The recent Inter- national Bank Mission to Colombia made quite a point of this fact, and recommended a special tax aimed at forcing such land into more intensive use.t Although the recommendation was not received with high favor in some circles in Colombia, it never- theless has some strong points to its credit. There may be more palatable ways by which the same end can be accomplished. Certainly, all governments should weigh carefully the costs of buying developed but unused lands for subdivision and resettlement purposes against the costs of clearing and developing new areas before choosing the latter course. In addition to the cleared land which is being extensively used and which could be brought into cultivation, there is, of course, the real possibility of increasing the per acre output of land now being cultivated. The primitive, backward farm practices that are being followed in most of these countries offer a real and important challenge to all efforts to increase output per farm. Outside of the densely populated highland areas of these countries, there is usually the opportunity of increasing the scale of operations of many farmers, in addition to teaching them practices which will make their present acres more productive. In other words, while attention may be centered mainly on such practices as spraying and dusting to kill diseases and parasites, the introduction of higher producing varieties, the use of fertilizers, and better tillage practices, there is often also the possibility of adding a few nearby acres to many of the existing small farms, or of improving the present pasture area and adding one or two new animal units to the farm enterprises. 6 International Bank for Reconstruction and Development, The Basis of a Development Program for Colombia (Washington, 1950), pp. 383-387. LAND 37 planting, cultivating, and harvesting will probably provide an efficient source of farm power in a large percentage of the cases. In having focused attention on land development, including resettlement, as being the main direction which land policy should take in these "low pressure" countries of the Caribbean region, I do not want to overlook the obvious fact that there are many opportunities for increasing the productivity of the land now in farms. Some of this land which is well suited for crop production is being held in large estates for cattle grazing. The recent Inter- national Bank Mission to Colombia made quite a point of this fact, and recommended a special tax aimed at forcing such land into more intensive use.6 Although the recommendation was not received with high favor in some circles in Colombia, it never- theless has some strong points to its credit. There may be more palatable ways by which the same end can be accomplished. Certainly, all governments should weigh carefully the costs of buying developed but unused lands for subdivision and resettlement purposes against the costs of clearing and developing new areas before choosing the latter course. In addition to the cleared land which is being extensively used and which could be brought into cultivation, there is, of course, the real possibility of increasing the per acre output of land now being cultivated. The primitive, backward farm practices that are being followed in most of these countries offer a real and important challenge to all efforts to increase output per farm. Outside of the densely populated highland areas of these countries, there is usually the opportunity of increasing the scale of operations of many farmers, in addition to teaching them practices which will make their present acres more productive. In other words, while attention may be centered mainly on such practices as spraying and dusting to kill diseases and parasites, the introduction of higher producing varieties, the use of fertilizers, and better tillage practices, there is often also the possibility of adding a few nearby acres to many of the existing small farms, or of improving the present pasture area and adding one or two new animal units to the farm enterprises. e International Bank for Reconstruction and Development, The Basis of a Development Program for Colombia (Washington, 1950), pp. 383-387. LAND i/ planting, cultivating, and harvesting will probably provide an efficient source of farm power in a large percentage of the cases. In having focused attention on land development, including resettlement, as being the main direction which land policy should take in these "low pressure" countries of the Caribbean region, I do not want to overlook the obvious fact that there are many opportunities for increasing the productivity of the land now in farms. Some of this land which is well suited for crop production is being held in large estates for cattle grazing. The recent Inter- national Bank Mission to Colombia made quite a point of this fact, and recommended a special tax aimed at forcing such land into more intensive use.t Although the recommendation was not received with high favor in some circles in Colombia, it never- theless has some strong points to its credit. There may be more palatable ways by which the same end can be accomplished. Certainly, all governments should weigh carefully the costs of buying developed but unused lands for subdivision and resettlement purposes against the costs of clearing and developing new areas before choosing the latter course. In addition to the cleared land which is being extensively used and which could be brought into cultivation, there is, of course, the real possibility of increasing the per acre output of land now being cultivated. The primitive, backward farm practices that are being followed in most of these countries offer a real and important challenge to all efforts to increase output per farm. Outside of the densely populated highland areas of these countries, there is usually the opportunity of increasing the scale of operations of many farmers, in addition to teaching them practices which will make their present acres moe productive. In other words, while attention may be centered mainly on such practices as spraying and dusting to kill diseases and parasites, the introduction of higher producing varieties, the use of fertilizers, and better tillage practices, there is often also the possibility of adding a few nearby acres to many of the existing small farms, or of improving the present pasture area and adding one or two new animal units to the farm enterprises. a International Bank for Reconstruction and Development, The Basis of a Development Program for Colombia (Washington, 1950), pp. 383-387.  38 The Caribbean Countries of Medium Population Pressure.-Up to this point I have discussed the general directions which land policy should take in two extreme groups of Caribbean countries. One group is characterized by heavy population pressure on the land; the other group by a paucity of population and relatively large areas of undeveloped land suitable for agriculture. There is a third group which is between these two extremes, including Costa Rica, Cuba, Mexico, Panama, and the Dominican Republic. Each deserves separate treatment, but space does not permit it. Most of them do not have vast areas of undeveloped land. Yet, neither do they have the extreme population pressure of the first group. Their economies usually turn out a higher national product per capita than other Caribbean countries, except oil-rich Venezuela. In general, they are more industrialized and have a more efficient agriculture than their neighbors, though this is not true in every case. Panama, of course, has a substantial income stimulator in the canal, though neither its industry nor its agriculture is well developed. In order to raise productivity per person in these countries, which, like the whole Caribbean area, have rapidly increasing populations, the general directions of their land utilization policies should combine in modest degree the principal elements suggested for both the other groups. In other words, increased industriali- zation is called for, along with land development and resettlement, and intensification of production on land already in cultivation. Generally speaking, more emphasis should be placed on indus- trialization in this group of countries than in those with lower population pressure, but less than in the heavily overpopulated group. Moreover, there is more of a possibility of their industry using locally produced raw materials. With the possible exception of Mexico, where a large proportion of the total land is too dry for crop farming, there appear to be substantial areas of reasonably good land awaiting roads and the elimination of disease. In Mexico, there are still opportunities for increasing the acreage of land being irrigated. However, there are hundreds of thousands of rural families living in such thickly settled clusters in many Mexican highland areas that a substantial proportion of them must move into non-farm employments before there can be any significant improvement in land-use practices. 38 The Caribbean 38 The Caribbean Countries of Medium Population Pressure.-Up to this point I have discussed the general directions which land policy should take in two extreme groups of Caribbean countries. One group is characterized by heavy population pressure on the land; the other group by a paucity of population and relatively large areas of undeveloped land suitable for agriculture. There is a third group which is between these two extremes, including Costa Rica, Cuba, Mexico, Panama, and the Dominican Republic. Each deserves separate treatment, but space does not permit it. Most of them do not have vast areas of undeveloped land. Yet, neither do they have the extreme population pressure of the first group. Their economies usually turn out a higher national product per capita than other Caribbean countries, except oil-rich Venezuela. In general, they are more industrialized and have a more efficient agriculture than their neighbors, though this is not true in every case. Panama, of course, has a substantial income stimulator in the canal, though neither its industry nor its agriculture is well developed. In order to raise productivity per person in these countries, which, like the whole Caribbean area, have rapidly increasing populations, the general directions of their land utilization policies should combine in modest degree the principal elements suggested for both the other groups. In other words, increased industriali- zation is called for, along with land development and resettlement, and intensification of production on land already in cultivation. Generally speaking, more emphasis should be placed on indus- trialization in this group of countries than in those with lower population pressure, but less than in the heavily overpopulated group. Moreover, there is more of a possibility of their industry using locally produced raw materials. With the possible exception of Mexico, where a large proportion of the total land is too dry for crop farming, there appear to be substantial areas of reasonably good land awaiting roads and the elimination of disease. In Mexico, there are still opportunities for increasing the acreage of land being irrigated. However, there are hundreds of thousands of rural families living in such thickly settled clusters in many Mexican highland areas that a substantial proportion of them must move into non-farm employments before there can be any significant improvement in land-use practices. Countries of Medium Population Pressure.-Up to this point I have discussed the general directions which land policy should take in two extreme groups of Caribbean countries. One group is characterized by heavy population pressure on the land; the other group by a paucity of population and relatively large areas of undeveloped land suitable for agriculture. There is a third group which is between these two extremes, including Costa Rica, Cuba, Mexico, Panama, and the Dominican Republic. Each deserves separate treatment, but space does not permit it. Most of them do not have vast areas of undeveloped land. Yet, neither do they have the extreme population pressure of the first group. Their economies usually turn out a higher national product per capita than other Caribbean countries, except oil-rich Venezuela. In general, they are more industrialized and have a more efficient agriculture than their neighbors, though this is not true in every case. Panama, of course, has a substantial income stimulator in the canal, though neither its industry nor its agriculture is well developed. In order to raise productivity per person in these countries, which, like the whole Caribbean area, have rapidly increasing populations, the general directions of their land utilization policies should combine in modest degree the principal elements suggested for both the other groups. In other words, increased industriali- zation is called for, along with land development and resettlement, and intensification of production on land already in cultivation. Generally speaking, more emphasis should be placed on indus- trialization in this group of countries than in those with lower population pressure, but less than in the heavily overpopulated group. Moreover, there is more of a possibility of their industry using locally produced raw materials. With the possible exception of Mexico, where a large proportion of the total land is too dry for crop farming, there appear to be substantial areas of reasonably good land awaiting roads and the elimination of disease. In Mexico, there are still opportunities for increasing the acreage of land being irrigated. However, there are hundreds of thousands of rural families living in such thickly settled clusters in many Mexican highland areas that a substantial proportion of them must move into non-farm employments before there can be any significant improvement in land-use practices.  LAND 39 LAND 39 LAND In this group of countries, as in the others pteviously discussed, there are substantial opportunities for increasing the per acre output of land now being farmed. Here, as in the other cases, the primary emphasis must be on getting farmers to use fungicides, pesticides, fertilizers, improved varieties of plants and animals, and to be more timely in their planting, cultivating, and harvesting practices. To the extent that local conditions permit, the number of acres handled by one man needs to be increased while, at the same time, he is increasing the output of the acres that he is already using. III In the preceding pages primary emphasis has been placed on the general objectives toward which land-utilization policies should aim in the Caribbean area in order to raise the total output of the countries involved. In one grup of countries, those with extremely heavy population pressure and a large percentage of their people engaged in agriculture, it has been argued that great emphasis must be placed on industrialization. In another group, those with low densities of population, the development of new land and the resettlement of families from overcrowded areas has been suggested as the most urgent approach. In all the countries, however, it has been recognized that there are substantial oppor- tunities for increasing the output per unit area of land now being fanned.t Enough has been said of the two latter objectives to indicate that the techniques for achieving them must reach a large number of backward, semi-illiterate farmers with a whole new set of ideas that can, and will, be put into practice on their individual farms. What are these techniques, and how can they be brought to bear on the problems at hand? This is an extremely important aspect of the total policy problem under discussion, but only a few major points can be made in this paper. 7 In many cases an approach which would put primary emphasis on obtaining greater output per acre among the thousands of small farmers in these countries would also have the opportunity of increasing the size of the farms of some of the more pogessive-minded operators. This would be the case in all areas where overcrowding is not severe, or even in these areas if there were an out-migration to non-farm jobs. In this group of countries, as in the others previously discussed, there are substantial opportunities for increasing the per acre output of land now being farmed. Here, as in the other cases, the primary emphasis must be on getting farmers to use fungicides, pesticides, fertilizers, improved varieties of plants and animals, and to be more timely in their planting, cultivating, and harvesting practices. To the extent that local conditions permit, the number of acres handled by one man needs to be increased while, at the same time, he is increasing the output of the acres that he is already using. III In the preceding pages primary emphasis has been placed on the general objectives toward which land-utilization policies should aim in the Caribbean area in order to raise the total output of the countries involved. In one group of countries, those with extremely heavy population pressure and a large percentage of their people engaged in agriculture, it has been argued that great emphasis must be placed on industrialization. In another group, those with low densities of population, the development of new land and the resettlement of families from overcrowded areas has been suggested as the most urgent approach. In all the countries, however, it has been recognized that there are substantial oppor- tunities for increasing the output per unit area of land now being farmed.7 Enough has been said of the two latter objectives to indicate that the techniques for achieving them must reach a large number of backward, semi-illiterate farmers with a whole new set of ideas that can, and will, be put into practice on their individual farms. What are these techniques, and how can they be brought to bear on the problems at hand? This is an extremely important aspect of the total policy problem under discussion, but only a few major points can be made in this paper. 7 In many cases an approach which would put primary emphasis on obtaining greater output per acre among the thousands of small farmers in these countries would also have the opportunity of increasing the size of the farms of some of the more progressive-minded operators. This would be the case in all areas where overcrowding is not severe, or even in these areas if there were an out-migration to non-farm jobs. In this group of countries, as in the others previously discussed, there are substantial opportunities for increasing the per acre output of land now being farmed. Here, as in the other cases, the primary emphasis must be on getting farmers to use fungicides, pesticides, fertilizer, improved varieties of plants and animals, and to be more timely in their planting, cultivating, and harvesting practices. To the extent that local conditions permit, the number of acres handled by one man needs to be increased while, at the same time, he is increasing the output of the acres that he is already using. III In the preceding pages primary emphasis has been placed on the general objectives toward which land-utilization policies should aim in the Caribbean area in order to raise the total output of the countries involved. In one group of countries, those with extremely heavy population pressure and a large percentage of their people engaged in agriculture, it has been argued that great emphasis must be placed on industrialization. In another group, those with low densities of population, the development of new land and the resettlement of families from overcrowded areas has been suggested as the most urgent approach. In all the countries, however, it has been recognized that there are substantial oppor- tunities for increasing the output per unit area of land now being farmed.t Enough has been said of the two latter objectives to indicate that the techniques for achieving them must reach a large number of backward, semi-illiterate farmers with a whole new set of ideas that can, and will, be put into practice on their individual farms. What are these techniques, and how can they be brought to bear on the problems at hand? This is an extremely important aspect of the total policy problem under discussion, but only a few major points can be made in this paper. 7 In many cases an approach which would put primary emphasis on obtaining greater output per acre among the thousands of small farmers in these countries would also have the opportunity of increasing the size of the farms of some of the more progressive-minded operators. This would be the case in all areas where overcrowding is not severe, or even in these areas if there were an out-migration to non-farm jobs.  40 The Caribbean It is well to recall that a successful approach along these lines will be aimed at getting thousands of farmers in each country to follow such practices as: (1) preventing crop losses by using a whole array of relatively new fungicides and pesticides; (2) in- creasing yields by using both organic compost and chemical ferti- lizers, if the latter are obtainable at prices that are not prohibitive; (3) planting improved varieties of crops and using high-producing sires to improve their livestock; (4) rotating their crops, terracing their rolling fields, and plowing, planting, and cultivating at the proper time and in the proper manner. To the extent that the size of farms can be increased, either by resettlement or otherwise, their operators will have a whole new set of management problems to which they have not been accustomed. The very first problem that will be met with is the lack of the needed materials, and the paucity of proved answers to many of the practical questions involved. Supplies of the proper pesticides, fungicides, fertilizers, improved seeds, and well-bed sires are not available in thousands upon thousands of rural communities in the Caribbean area. There are too few experiment stations with results indicating the best times for planting and the most economic methods of preparing, planting, and cultivating the various crops in the different agricultural areas. But even if these problems can in some way be slowly and haltingly solved, there remains the basic task of getting farmers to adopt new practices, and to use a part of their meager and hard- earned cash for the needed materials. Too often this is visualized as a problem to be tackled exclusively by the orthodox methods of agricultural extension education that have proved successful in the United States. But this, I believe, is not enough. Extension methods in this country have always been most successful with an upper-level group of educated farmers. It was not until the general educational status of farm people in this country reached a rather high level, and a generation of farm boys and girls grew to maturity under the tutelage of county agents and vocational agricultural teachers, that extension service methods began to show striking results. In the Caribbean countries, as in most other underdeveloped areas, the type of farmer that has been most responsive to agricultural extension methods in the United States simply does not exist. 40 The Caribbean 40 The Caribbean It is well to recall that a successful approach along these lines will be aimed at getting thousands of farmers in each country to follow such practices as: (1) preventing crop losses by using a whole array of relatively new fungicides and pesticides; (2) in- creasing yields by using both organic compost and chemical ferti- lizers, if the latter are obtainable at prices that are not prohibitive; (3) planting improved varieties of crops and using high-producing sires to improve their livestock; (4) rotating their crops, terracing their rolling fields, and plowing, planting, and cultivating at the proper time and in the proper manner. To the extent that the size of farms can be increased, either by resettlement or otherwise, their operators will have a whole new set of management problems to which they have not been accustomed. The very first problem that will be met with is the lack of the needed materials, and the paucity of proved answers to many of the practical questions involved. Supplies of the proper pesticides, fungicides, fertilizers, improved seeds, and well-bred sires are not available in thousands upon thousands of rural communities in the Caribbean area. There are too few experiment stations with results indicating the best times for planting and the most economic methods of preparing, planting, and cultivating the various crops in the different agricultural areas. But even if these problems can in some way be slowly and haltingly solved, there remains the basic task of getting farmers to adopt new practices, and to use a part of their meager and hard- earned cash for the needed materials. Too often this is visualized as a problem to be tackled exclusively by the orthodox methods of agricultural extension education that have proved successful in the United States. But this, I believe, is not enough. Extension methods in this country have always been most successful with an upper-level group of educated farmers. It was not until the general educational status of farm people in this country reached a rather high level, and a generation of farm boys and girls grew to maturity under the tutelage of county agents and vocational agricultural teachers, that extension service methods began to show striking results. In the Caribbean countries, as in most other underdeveloped areas, the type of farmer that has been most responsive to agricultural extension methods in the United States simply does not exist. It is well to recall that a successful approach along these lines will be aimed at getting thousands of farmers in each country to follow such practices as: (1) preventing crop losses by using a whole array of relatively new fungicides and pesticides; (2) in- creasing yields by using both organic compost and chemical ferti- lizers, if the latter are obtainable at prices that are not prohibitive; (3) planting improved varieties of crops and using high-producing sires to improve their livestock; (4) rotating their crops, terracing their rolling fields, and plowing, planting, and cultivating at the proper time and in the proper manner. To the extent that the size of farms can be increased, either by resettlement or otherwise, their operators will have a whole new set of management problems to which they have not been accustomed. The very first problem that will be met with is the lack of the needed materials, and the paucity of proved answers to many of the practical questions involved. Supplies of the proper pesticides, fungicides, fertilizers, improved seeds, and well-bred sires are not available in thousands upon thousands of rural communities in the Caribbean area. There are too few experiment stations with results indicating the best times for planting and the most economic methods of preparing, planting, and cultivating the various crops in the different agricultural areas. But even if these problems can in some way be slowly and haltingly solved, there remains the basic task of getting farmers to adopt new practices, and to use a part of their meager and hard- earned cash for the needed materials. Too often this is visualized as a problem to be tackled exclusively by the orthodox methods of agricultural extension education that have proved successful in the United States. But this, I believe, is not enough. Extension methods in this country have always been most successful with an upper-level group of educated farmers. It was not until the general educational status of farm people in this country reached a rather high level, and a generation of farm boys and girls grew to maturity under the tutelage of county agents and vocational agricultural teachers, that extension service methods began to show striking results. In the Caribbean countries, as in most other underdeveloped areas, the type of farmer that has been most responsive to agricultural extension methods in the United States simply does not exist.  LAND 41 LAND 41 LAND To be successful in raising the output of extremely low-income, illiterate, small farmers, many of whom are part-time day laborers, sharecroppers, tenants, and squatters, there are, at least, three ingredients that must be integrated into one program and applied to the needs of individual farm families. They are: (1) educa- tion, (2) credit, and (3) security of tenure. Extension methods in the United States have rarely been individualized to meet the needs of particular farm families. Even more rarely have they tackled the problems of credit and tenure. It is difficult to overstress the importance of combining credit with education. A little additional capital on many farms in these countries, if it is properly used, oftentimes makes a very big difference in farm output. Moreover, simply to be able to demon- strate new practices to the great bulk of the farmers in these countries, without being able to offer them loans by which they can obtain the supplies and equipment through which they can put the demonstrated practices into effect, is a distressingly difficult way to achieve results. Their incomes are so low and their living needs so urgent that only the most thrifty will accumulate enough in advance to buy the capital items that they need. Yet, a small loan to buy a few pounds of insecticides and a hand sprayer, or a few hundred pounds of fertilizer, or in some cases a relatively small quantity of improved seed, will often increase farm output by an amount two or three times as great as the loan. Funds for purchasing a team of oxen and two or three plows, or to add three or four cows to the farm business, can produce a big per- centage increase in the scale of operations. Credit used in this constructive manner is dependent, however, on sound judgments by farm technicians. There is nothing but harm to be done in burdening a farmer with a loan if he is going to buy some sort of insecticide that will not kill the bugs that attack his crops or cattle, or if he is going to put fertilizer on soil that will not respond to it, or if he buys some new, high- priced seed which is no better than that which is hanging in the corner of his kitchen. These and scores of similar problems which arise in using credit to increase production are concrete questions of fact, which cannot be answered by reference to general theories. They depend on judgments made on the spot by men who have the knowledge about the bug-killing power of a particular To be successful in raising the output of extremely low-income, illiterate, small farmers, many of whom are part-time day laborers, sharecroppers, tenants, and squatters, there are, at least, three ingredients that must be integrated into one program and applied to the needs of individual farm families. They are: (1) educa- tion, (2) credit, and (3) security of tenure. Extension methods in the United States have rarely been individualized to meet the needs of particular farm families. Even more rarely have they tackled the problems of credit and tenure. It is difficult to overstress the importance of combining credit with education. A little additional capital on many farms in these countries, if it is properly used, oftentimes makes a very big difference in farm output. Moreover, simply to be able to demon- strate new practices to the great bulk of the farmers in these countries, without being able to offer them loans by which they can obtain the supplies and equipment through which they can put the demonstrated practices into effect, is a distressingly difficult way to achieve results. Their incomes are so low and their living needs so urgent that only the most thrifty will accumulate enough in advance to buy the capital items that they need. Yet, a small loan to buy a few pounds of insecticides and a hand sprayer, or a few hundred pounds of fertilizer, or in some cases a relatively small quantity of improved seed, will often increase farm output by an amount two or three times as great as the loan. Funds for purchasing a team of oxen and two or three plows, or to add three or four cows to the farm business, can produce a big per- centage increase in the scale of operations. Credit used in this constructive manner is dependent, however, on sound judgments by farm technicians. There is nothing but harm to be done in burdening a farmer with a loan if he is going to buy some sort of insecticide that will not kill the bugs that attack his crops or cattle, or if he is going to put fertilizer on soil that will not respond to it, or if he buys some new, high- priced seed which is no better than that which is hanging in the corner of his kitchen. These and scores of similar problems which arise in using credit to increase production are concrete questions of fact, which cannot be answered by reference to general theories. They depend on judgments made on the spot by men who have the knowledge about the bug-killing power of a particular To be successful in raising the output of extremely low-income, illiterate, small farmers, many of whom are part-time day laborers, sharecroppers, tenants, and squatters, there are, at least, three ingredients that must be integrated into one program and applied to the needs of individual farm families. They are: (1) educa- tion, (2) credit, and (3) security of tenure. Extension methods in the United States have rarely been individualized to meet the needs of particular farm families. Even more rarely have they tackled the problems of credit and tenure. It is difficult to overstress the importance of combining credit with education. A little additional capital on many farms in these countries, if it is properly used, oftentimes makes a very big difference in farm output. Moreover, simply to be able to demon- strate new practices to the great bulk of the farmers in these countries, without being able to offer them loans by which they can obtain the supplies and equipment through which they can put the demonstrated practices into effect, is a distressingly difficult way to achieve results. Their incomes are so low and their living needs so urgent that only the most thrifty will accumulate enough in advance to buy the capital items that they need. Yet, a small loan to buy a few pounds of insecticides and a hand sprayer, or a few hundred pounds of fertilizer, or in some cases a relatively small quantity of improved seed, will often increase farm output by an amount two or three times as great as the loan. Funds for purchasing a team of oxen and two or three plows, or to add three or four cows to the farm business, can produce a big per- centage increase in the scale of operations. Credit used in this constructive manner is dependent, however, on sound judgments by farm technicians. There is nothing but harm to be done in burdening a farmer with a loan if he is going to buy some sort of insecticide that will not kill the bugs that attack his crops or cattle, or if he is going to put fertilizer on soil that will not respond to it, or if he buys some new, high- priced seed which is no better than that which is hanging in the corner of his kitchen. These and scores of similar problems which arise in using credit to increase production are concrete questions of fact, which cannot be answered by reference to general theories. They depend on judgments made on the spot by men who have the knowledge about the bug-killing power of a particular  42 The Caribbean 42 The Caribbean 42 The Caribbean insecticide, who know the particular soil and its response to a particular fertilizer, or who know how a given variety will respond to the specific environment in which it is planted. This means that a farm technician, backed up by experiment station results, or the carefully observed experience of other farm- ers, must be the man to extend farm production loans and guide their use as well. He must, in other words, carry out, as part of one operation, the twin functions of education and credit exten- sion. This is no job for a banker who sits behind barred windows and looks at the resale value of the chattels included on the mortgage. The fact that the constructive use of farm credit to small farmers in these underdeveloped countries involves the use of farm technicians in making, supervising, and collecting loans means that the cost is much too high to be covered by the interest charged the farmer. It also means that these are educational functions and therefore legitimate parts of the cost of a really effective agricultural extension service. Unfortunately, the Exten- sion Service and Farm Credit Administration grew up as two separate agencies in the United States. The Farm Credit Admin- istration, moreover, was organized to go directly to the money market and borrow funds by pledging the security obtained from borrowers. This feature of its operation has precluded it from lending to the man who had no tangible collateral to offer when he needed a loan. In the Caribbean countries, however, there is a good chance that these mistakes can be avoided. There are no organized markets for farm credit bonds, and governments ordinarily supply the funds for farm credit out of their treasuries, the same sources from which educational expenditures are made. If the farm credit and agricultural education functions could be brought together into one organization in these countries, their results would be multiplied several-fold in the general task of increasing the productivity of farmers by both increasing yields per acre and enlarging the scale of individual farm operations. In addition to education and credit, there must also be some way of providing security of tenure on farms. The efficient use of farm credit and on-the-farm education will be impeded unless borrowers have a secure tenure to the land they operate and the right to reap the fruits of their efforts to improve it. Although insecticide, who know the particular soil and its response to a particular fertilizer, or who know how a given variety will respond to the specific environment in which it is planted. This means that a farm technician, backed up by experiment station results, or the carefully observed experience of other farm- ers, must be the man to extend farm production loans and guide their use as well. He must, in other words, carry out, as part of one operation, the twin functions of education and credit exten- sion. This is no job for a banker who sits behind barred windows and looks at the resale value of the chattels included on the mortgage. The fact that the constructive use of farm credit to small farmers in these underdeveloped countries involves the use of farm technicians in making, supervising, and collecting loans means that the cost is much too high to be covered by the interest charged the farmer, It also means that these are educational functions and therefore legitimate parts of the cost of a really effective agricultural extension service. Unfortunately, the Exten- sion Service and Farm Credit Administration grew up as two separate agencies in the United States. The Farm Credit Admin- istration, moreover, was organized to go directly to the money market and borrow funds by pledging the security obtained from borrowers. This feature of its operation has precluded it from lending to the man who had no tangible collateral to offer when he needed a loan. In the Caribbean countries, however, there is a good chance that these mistakes can be avoided. There are no organized markets for farm credit bonds, and governments ordinarily supply the funds for farm credit out of their treasuries, the same souroes from which educational expenditures are made. If the farm credit and agricultural education functions could be brought together into one organization in these countries, their results would be multiplied several-fold in the general task of increasing the productivity of farmers by both increasing yields per acre and enlarging the scale of individual farm operations. In addition to education and credit, there must also be some way of providing security of tenure on farms. The efficient use of farm credit and on-the-farm education will be impeded unless borrowers have a secure tenure to the land they operate and the right to reap the fruits of their efforts to improve it. Although insecticide, who know the particular soil and its response to a particular fertilizer, or who know how a given variety will respond to the specific environment in which it is planted. This means that a farm technician, backed up by experiment station results, or the carefully observed experience of other farm- ers, must be the man to extend farm production loans and guide their use as well. He must, in other words, carry out, as part of one operation, the twin functions of education and credit exten- sion. This is no job for a banker who sits behind barred windows and looks at the resale value of the chattels included on the mortgage. The fact that the constructive use of farm credit to small farmers in these underdeveloped countries involves the use of farm technicians in making, supervising, and collecting loans means that the cost is much too high to be covered by the interest charged the farmer. It also means that these are educational functions and therefore legitimate parts of the cost of a really effective agricultural extension service. Unfortunately, the Exten- sion Service and Farm Credit Administration grew up as two separate agencies in the United States. The Farm Credit Admin- istration, moreover, was organized to go directly to the money market and borrow funds by pledging the security obtained from borrowers. This feature of its operation has precluded it from lending to the man who had no tangible collateral to offer when he needed a loan. In the Caribbean countries, however, there is a good chance that these mistakes can be avoided. There are no organized markets for farm credit bonds, and governments ordinarily supply the funds for farm credit out of their treasuries, the same sources from which educational expenditures are made. If the farm credit and agricultural education functions could be brought together into one organization in these countries, their results would be multiplied several-fold in the general task of increasing the productivity of farmers by both increasing yields per acre and enlarging the scale of individual farm operations. In addition to education and credit, there must also be some way of providing security of tenure on farms. The efficient use of farm credit and on-the-farm education will be impeded unless borrowers have a secure tenure to the land they operate and the right to reap the fruits of their efforts to improve it. Although  LAND 43 LAND 43 LAND tenancy systems can be devised to achieve the results desired- witness England and Australia-the practical solution in most Latin American countries is for the man who operates the land to own it also. In other words, along with a combined program of edu- cation and credit, there is badly needed a complementary program for increasing the number of owner-operated family farms. The three essentials of a successful program for agricultural development, education, credit, and security of tenue, may be combined in varying proportions according to the need, but all of them must be present in order to achieve lasting results. By the same token, agricultural development based upon these ingredients is of seminal importance to the solution of the broader problems of land utilization throughout the Caribbean area. tenancy systems can be devised to achieve the results desired- witness England and Australia-the practical solution in most Latin American countries is for the man who operates the land to own it also. In other words, along with a combined program of edu- cation and credit, there is badly needed a complementary program for increasing the number of owner-operated family farms. The three essentials of a successful program for agricultural development, education, credit, and security of tenure, may be combined in varying proportions according to the need, but all of them must be present in order to achieve lasting results. By the same token, agricultural development based upon these ingredients is of seminal importance to the solution of the broader problems of land utilization throughout the Caribbean area. tenancy systems can be devised to achieve the results desired- witness England and Australia-the practical solution in most Latin American countries is for the man who operates the land to own it also. In other words, along with a combined program of edu- cation and credit, there is badly needed a complementary program for increasing the number of owner-operated family farms. The three essentials of a successful program for agricultural development, education, credit, and security of tenure, may be combined in varying proportions according to the need, but all of them must be present in order to achieve lasting results. By the same token, agricultural development based upon these ingredients is of seminal importance to the solution of the broader problems of land utilization throughout the Caribbean area.  5 Ross E. Moore: HUMAN FACTORS IN LAND UTILIZATION A PPROXIMATELY one-third of the earth's surface is used for agriculture and forestry by the two and one-third billion persons who inhabit it. The effectiveness of such utilization varies widely. To an appreciable extent the effectiveness is determined by the endowments of nature, but to an even greater extent it is determined by the action of people. Over great areas of the world, physical factors such as soil, rainfall, and temperature have less bearing on effective use of land than do some of the social factors, such as the extent and effectiveness of social insti- tutions, the access that farm people have to information, the availability of credit, and the security of tenure. As we review the pages of history we find adequate examples of mankind's influence upon his lands. One page may tell of a people that industriously made the very deserts bloom. Another tells of a people that thoughtlessly denuded their forests and caused flooded rivers to carry away rich soils of farming lands. Such examples have continued and have multiplied through the years, and we find that they are still in the making today. We may look about us as we meet here in Florida and close at hand find fitting evidence of how man has altered his environ- ment to improve his well-being. As an example, let us consider Florida's great livestock industry: Fifteen years ago Florida's farmers had little more than 700,000 head of cattle on their farm and range lands; today they have approximately twice that number. 44 Ross E. Moore: HUMAN FACTORS IN LAND UTILIZATION APPROXIMATELY one-third of the earth's surface is used for agriculture and forestry by the two and one-third billion persons who inhabit it. The effectiveness of such utilization varies widely. To an appreciable extent the effectiveness is determined by the endowments of nature, but to an even greater extent it is determined by the action of people. Over great areas of the world, physical factors such as soil, rainfall, and temperature have less bearing on effective use of land than do some of the social factors, such as the extent and effectiveness of social insti- tutions, the access that farm people have to information, the availability of credit, and the security of tenure. As we review the pages of history we find adequate examples of mankind's influence upon his lands. One page may tell of a people that industriously made the very deserts bloom. Another tells of a people that thoughtlessly denuded their forests and caused flooded rivers to carry away rich soils of farming lands. Such examples have continued and have multiplied through the years, and we find that they are still in the making today. We may look about us as we meet here in Florida and close at hand find fitting evidence of how man has altered his environ- ment to improve his well-being. As an example, let us consider Florida's great livestock industry: Fifteen years ago Florida's farmers had little more than 700,000 head of cattle on their farm and range lands; today they have approximately twice that number. 44 ROSS E. Moore: HUMAN FACTORS IN LAND UTILIZATION APPROXIMATELY one-third of the earth's surface is used for agriculture and forestry by the two and one-third billion persons who inhabit it. The effectiveness of such utilization varies widely. To an appreciable extent the effectiveness is determined by the endowments of nature, but to an even greater extent it is determined by the action of people. Over great areas of the world, physical factors such as soil, rainfall, and temperature have less bearing on effective use of land than do some of the social factors, such as the extent and effectiveness of social insti- tutions, the access that farm people have to information, the availability of credit, and the security of tenure. As we review the pages of history we find adequate examples of mankind's influence upon his lands. One page may tell of a people that industriously made the very deserts bloom. Another tells of a people that thoughtlessly denuded their forests and caused flooded rivers to carry away rich soils of farming lands. Such examples have continued and have multiplied through the years, and we find that they are still in the making today. We may look about us as we meet heere in Florida and close at hand find fitting evidence of how man has altered his environ- ment to improve his well-being. As an example, let us consider Florida's great livestock industry: Fifteen years ago Florida's farmers had little more than 700,000 head of cattle on their farm and range lands; today they have approximately twice that number. 44  LAND 45 LAND 45 LAND Yet, the portions of Florida where the greatest increase has taken place are not unusually well endowed by nature for such enterprise. Earlier livestock growers constantly encountered unusual problems. They noted that their cattle sometimes had abnormal hungers for such substances as dirt, bones, or wood. They were disappointed that their livestock sometimes failed to thrive even in lush pastures. Evidently nature had left some gaps in Florida's livestock-production environment. Man had to fill these gaps before the industry could thrive. How was this done? Fortunately, the farmers of Florida were so associated that they were able to define their needs and give voice to them. Rising out of this definition of need from private groups came investiga- tions by public research institutions wherein it was determined that in some soils of Florida a pronounced lack of certain minerals, especially phosphorus and cobalt, contributed directly to dietary deficiencies among livestock grazing on such soils. As a result of this research, it was relatively easy to prescribe compensatory fertilizing and feeding practices. Fortunately, also, an extension service existed, as well as other private and public means of communicating agricultural in- formation, so that livestock growers soon knew what techniques they must employ to cure the dietary illnesses of their cattle. Fortunately, again, agricultural credit was available so that progressive growers could adopt the new fertilizing and feeding practices and expand their operations. And, finally and fortunately, these growers weo residents of a state in which the incentives resulting from good conditions of land tenure are remarkably widespread, for 80 per cent of Florida's agricultural land is owned by the farmers who operate it. Here in Florida, then, and in neighboring areas of the Caribbean, and even into the farthest raches of the world, the "human factors" in land utilization can be of greater consequence than the physical and natural features which define our environment. Man can compensate for deficiencies in his environment; to some extent he can even change his environment. Yet, the portions of Florida where the greatest increase has taken place are not unusually well endowed by nature for such enterprise. Earlier livestock growers constantly encountered unusual problems. They noted that their cattle sometimes had abnormal hungers for such substances as dirt, bones, or wood. They wee disappointed that their livestock sometimes failed to thrive even in lush pastures. Evidently nature had left some gaps in Florida's livestock-production environment. Man had to fill these gaps before the industry could thrive. How was this done? Fortunately, the farmers of Florida were so associated that they were able to define their needs and give voice to them. Rising out of this definition of need from private groups came investiga- tions by public research institutions wherein it was determined that in some soils of Florida a pronounced lack of certain minerals, especially phosphorus and cobalt, contributed directly to dietary deficiencies among livestock grazing on such soils. As a result of this research, it was relatively easy to prescribe compensatory fertilizing and feeding practices. Fortunately, also, an extension service existed, as well as other private and public means of communicating agricultural in- formation, so that livestock growers soon knew what techniques they must employ to cure the dietary illnesses of their cattle. Fortunately, again, agricultural credit was available so that progressive growers could adopt the new fertilizing and feeding practices and expand their operations. And, finally and fortunately, these growers were residents of a state in which the incentives resulting from good conditions of land tenure are remarkably widespread, for 80 per cent of Florida's agricultural land is owned by the farmers who operate it. Here in Florida, then, and in neighboring areas of the Caribbean, and even into the farthest reaches of the world, the "human factors" in land utilization can be of greater consequence than the physical and natural features which define our environment. Man can compensate for deficiencies in his environment; to some extent he can even change his environment. Yet, the portions of Florida where the greatest increase has taken place are not unusually well endowed by nature for such enterprise. Earlier livestock growers constantly encountered unusual problems. They noted that their cattle sometimes had abnormal hungers for such substances as dirt, bones, or wood. They were disappointed that their livestock sometimes failed to thrive even in lush pastures. Evidently nature had left some gaps in Florida's livestock-production environment. Man had to fill these gaps before the industry could thrive. How was this done? Fortunately, the farmers of Florida were so associated that they were able to define their needs and give voice to them. Rising out of this definition of need from private groups came investiga- tions by public research institutions wherein it was determined that in some soils of Florida a pronounced lack of certain minerals, especially phosphorus and cobalt, contributed directly to dietary deficiencies among livestock grazing on such soils. As a result of this research, it was relatively easy to prescribe compensatory fertilizing and feeding practices. Fortunately, also, an extension service existed, as well as other private and public means of communicating agricultural in- formation, so that livestock growers soon knew what techniques they must employ to cure the dietary illnesses of their cattle. Fortunately, again, agricultural credit was available so that progressive growers could adopt the new fertilizing and feeding practices and expand their operations. And, finally and fortunately, these growers were residents of a state in which the incentives resulting from good conditions of land tenure are remarkably widespread, for 80 per cent of Florida's agricultural land is owned by the farmers who operate it. Here in Florida, then, and in neighboring areas of the Caribbean, and even into the farthest reaches of the world, the "human factors" in land utilization can be of greater consequence than the physical and natural features which define our environment. Man can compensate for deficiencies in his environment; to some extent he can even change his environment.  46 The Caribbean II The world stands today on the threshold of a new era in technological advancement. All of the free nations are participating in new efforts to exchange knowledge, to share techniques, and to cooperate for mutual advancement. This Second Annual Con- ference on the Caribbean is an example of voluntary association between people of similar interest and purpose. Similarly, though on a magnified scale, voluntary associations for mutual progress are taking place through the United Nations and its specialized agen- cies, and through such nation-to-nation arrangements as those growing out of the technical cooperation programs sponsored by the United States. These cooperative efforts are directed at an immediate objective of improving the well-being of people and the long-range objective of fostering greater harmony and peace. Agriculture occupies a dominant role in this effort. The world's concern with effective land utilization is in no sense academic- it is occasioned by the inescapable fact that the world's population is outdistancing its food supply, and the companion fact that a hungry world cannot be a pleasant or a peaceful world. Since cooperative effort for mutual advancement does exist be- tween nations today, and since that effort is increasing, it is essential that it be directed into those avenues whereby it can make a maximum and lasting contribution to human welfare. It is essential that land resources be put to the best possible use in the housing, clothing, and feeding of people. Is there any key, any primary guiding principle, that people and nations can call upon as they cooperate to improve their utilization of land resources? I believe that there is. I believe that a nation can improve its land utilization to the degree that it improves its human resources to give leadership to that task. Since "human resources" is an admittedly intangible term, let me substitute another-"social institutions." In our in- creasingly complex systems of living, we must look more and more to actual institutions, both private and public, as the fountainheads of progressive action. To me it is increasingly apparent that nations must strive to establish or to increase the competence and degree of leadership of their private and public social institutions. 46 The Caribbean 46 The Caribbean I1 The world stands today on the threshold of a new era in technological advancement. All of the free nations are participating in new efforts to exchange knowledge, to share techniques, and to cooperate for mutual advancement. This Second Annual Con- ference on the Caribbean is an example of voluntary association between people of similar interest and purpose. Similarly, though on a magnified scale, voluntary associations for mutual progress are taking place through the United Nations and its specialized agen- cies, and through such nation-to-nation arrangements as those growing out of the technical cooperation programs sponsored by the United States. These cooperative efforts are directed at an immediate objective of improving the well-being of people and the long-range objective of fostering greater harmony and peace. Agriculture occupies a dominant role in this effort. The world's concern with effective land utilization is in no sense academic- it is occasioned by the inescapable fact that the world's population is outdistancing its food supply, and the companion fact that a hungry world cannot be a pleasant or a peaceful world. Since cooperative effort for mutual advancement does exist be- tween nations today, and since that effort is increasing, it is essential that it be directed into those avenues whereby it can make a maximum and lasting contribution to human welfare. It is essential that land resources be put to the best possible use in the housing, clothing, and feeding of people. Is there any key, any primary guiding principle, that people and nations can call upon as they cooperate to improve their utilization of land resources? I believe that there is. I believe that a nation can improve its land utilization to the degree that it improves its human resources to give leadership to that task. Since "human resources" is an admittedly intangible term, let me substitute another-"social institutions." In our in- creasingly complex systems of living, we must look more and more to actual institutions, both private and public, as the fountainheads of progressive action. To me it is increasingly apparent that nations must strive to establish or to increase the competence and degree of leadership of their private and public social institutions. II The world stands today on the threshold of a new era in technological advancement. All of the free nations are participating in new efforts to exchange knowledge, to share techniques, and to cooperate for mutual advancement. This Second Annual Con- ference on the Caribbean is an example of voluntary association between people of similar interest and purpose. Similarly, though on a magnified scale, voluntary associations for mutual progress are taking place through the United Nations and its specialized agen- cies, and through such nation-to-nation arrangements as those growing out of the technical cooperation programs sponsored by the United States. These cooperative efforts are directed at an immediate objective of improving the well-being of people and the long-range objective of fostering greater harmony and peace. Agriculture occupies a dominant role in this effort. The world's concern with effective land utilization is in no sense academic- it is occasioned by the inescapable fact that the world's population is outdistancing its food supply, and the companion fact that a hungry world cannot be a pleasant or a peaceful world. Since cooperative effort for mutual advancement does exist be- tween nations today, and since that effort is increasing, it is essential that it be directed into those avenues whereby it can make a maximum and lasting contribution to human welfare. It is essential that land resources be put to the best possible use in the housing, clothing, and feeding of people. Is there any key, any primary guiding principle, that people and nations can call upon as they cooperate to improve their utilization of land resources? I believe that there is. I believe that a nation can improve its land utilization to the degree that it improves its human resources to give leadership to that task. Since "human resources" is an admittedly intangible term, let me substitute another-"social institutions." In our in- creasingly complex systems of living, we must look more and more to actual institutions, both private and public, as the fountainheads of progressive action. To me it is increasingly apparent that nations must strive to establish or to increase the competence and degree of leadership of their private and public social institutions.  LAND 47 LAND 47 LAND This is true in all fields affecting human welfare-in agricultue, in health, in education, and in others as well. There is no absolute rule whereby we can measure progress. We can gain a strong impression, however, of the social or economic or political development of a people by observing the virility and development of their social institutions. Such institutions make it possible for individuals and communities and societies to analyze and understand their situations, to decide how they might desirably modify those situations, to develop programs in the form of specific projects aimed at altering those situations, and, lastly, to carry the projects forward in a coordinated manner. Earlier I mentioned four "human factors" that affect land use and referred to their application in improving the agriculture of Florida. They are factors that function through private and public social institutions. I would like to review those principles again, this time more broadly. III The first of these "human factors" is degree of association. All people tend to seek out others of similar interests. In primitive societies the association may be merely for pleasure or for protec- tion. In more advanced societies, the association takes on stronger aspects of mutual gain. In the United States, if I may use my own country as an example again, we have an extensive array of county, state, and national agricultural committees; professional agricultural societies; and local, state, and national levels of farm organizations. Groups such as these are quick to notice and to call public and political attention to agricultural needs or agricul- tural inequities. They are both a motivating and a stabilizing in- fluence. They stimulate local initiative to take responsible action. They give vital direction to local and national agricultural plan- ning in that they provide the so-called "grassroots" influences which today are recognized as essential to democratic action. Most parts of the world have insufficient association between people of like interests and objectives. This is true of many European countries, of Asiatic countries, of other regions as well. It is true of the Caribbean area. I hope that my country's Point Four Program of technical cooperation can be an encouraging in- This is true in all fields affecting human welfare-in agriculture, in health, in education, and in others as well. There is no absolute rule whereby we can measure progress. We can gain a strong impression, however, of the social or economic or political development of a people by observing the virility and development of their social institutions. Such institutions make it possible for individuals and communities and societies to analyze and understand their situations, to decide how they might desirably modify those situations, to develop programs in the form of specific projects aimed at altering those situations, and, lastly, to carry the projects forward in a coordinated manner. Earlier I mentioned four "human factors" that affect land use and referred to their application in improving the agriculture of Florida. They are factors that function through private and public social institutions. I would like to review those principles again, this time more broadly. III The first of these "human factors" is degree of association. All people tend to seek out others of similar-interests. In primitive societies the association may be merely for pleasure or for protec- tion. In more advanced societies, the association takes on stronger aspects of mutual gain. In the United States, if I may use my own country as an example again, we have an extensive array of county, state, and national agricultural committees; professional agricultural societies; and local, state, and national levels of farm organizations. Groups such as these are quick to notice and to call public and political attention to agricultural needs or agricul- tural inequities. They are both a motivating and a stabilizing in- fluence. They stimulate local initiative to take responsible action. They give vital direction to local and national agricultural plan- ning in that they provide the so-called "grassroots" influences which today are recognized as essential to democratic action. Most parts of the world have insufficient association between people of like interests and objectives. This is true of many European countries, of Asiatic countries, of other regions as well. It is true of the Caribbean area. I hope that my country's Point Four Program of technical cooperation can be an encouraging in- This is true in all fields affecting human welfare-in agriculture, in health, in education, and in others as well. There is no absolute rule whereby we can measure progress. We can gain a strong impression, however, of the social or economic or political development of a people by observing the virility and development of their social institutions. Such institutions make it possible for individuals and communities and societies to analyze and understand their situations, to decide how they might desirably modify those situations, to develop programs in the form of specific projects aimed at altering those situations, and, lastly, to carry the projects forward in a coordinated manner. Earlier I mentioned four "human factors" that affect land use and referred to their application in improving the agriculture of Florida. They are factors that function through private and public social institutions. I would like to review those principles again, this time more broadly. III The first of these "human factors" is degree of association. All people tend to seek out others of similar*interests. In primitive societies the association may be merely for pleasure or for protec- tion. In more advanced societies, the association takes on stronger aspects of mutual gain. In the United States, if I may use my own country as an example again, we have an extensive array of county, state, and national agricultural committees; pofessional agricultural societies; and local, state, and national levels of farm organizations. Groups such as these are quick to notice and to call public and political attention to agricultural needs or agricul- tural inequities. They are both a motivating and a stabilizing in- fluence. They stimulate local initiative to take responsible action. They give vital direction to local and national agricultural plan- ning in that they provide the so-called "grassroots" influences which today are recognized as essential to democratic action. Most parts of the world have insufficient association between people of like interests and objectives. This is true of many European countries, of Asiatic countries, of other regions as well. It is true of the Caribbean area. I hope that my country's Point Four Program of technical cooperation can be an encouraging in-  48 The Caribbean fluence in this direction, using every opportunity to demonstrate to other peoples the greater rewards that will come from individual effort when paralleled by associative effort. The coffee growers of Latin America are in a relatively sound position, economically and technologically. The corn growers of Latin America, by and large, are not. Why is there this disparity? Because those who have a primary interest in the coffee industry have long been working in association for their common interest. The corn growers are not associated: they have no group voice, they have no one to champion their cause. The essential oils industry of Guatemala, in a period of about ten years, has risen to a pre-eminent position in world trade. Lemon oil and citronella from Guatemalan producers is in world demand because of its standardized excellence. How has this happened? Because Guatemala's essential oil producers, through association, have called upon research to improve their product, have dis- ciplined themselves to maintain quality standards, and have been able to obtain credit from outside as well as within their organ- ization to increase production to meet increased demand. By contrast, a new industry in Cuba is not progressing so rapidly as it might because of insufficient association between those pri- marily interested. I am referring now to the kenaf fiber industry. Kenaf is a jute-like fiber whose development in the Western Hem- isphere is a credit to technical cooperation between agricultural technicians of the United States and of Latin America. Kenaf is a crop of good promise to the Caribbean area. Its fiber will be a useful supplement to the huge quantities of jute that must be imported annually frmm the Far East. It will be a valuable source of new agricultural income. But the development of this new crop-its production, its processing, and its utilization-is highly dependent on governmental initiative. Increased impetus would come to this important development if individuals and business groups who stand to benefit from it were strongly associated, work- ing in unison toward a common objective. IV The second "human factor" affecting land use is access to information. There must be a flow of the world's experience to 48 The Caribbean 48 The Caribbean fluence in this direction, using every opportunity to demonstrate to other peoples the greater rewards that will come from individual effort when paralleled by associative effort. The coffee growers of Latin America are in a relatively sound position, economically and technologically. The corn growers of Latin America, by and large, are not. Why is there this disparity? Because those who have a primary interest in the coffee industry have long been working in association for their common interest. The corn growers are not associated: they have no group voice, they have no one to champion their cause. The essential oils industry of Guatemala, in a period of about ten years, has risen to a pre-eminent position in world trade. Lemon oil and citronella from Guatemalan producers is in world demand because of its standardized excellence. How has this happened? Because Guatemala's essential oil producers, through association, have called upon research to improve their product, have dis- ciplined themselves to maintain quality standards, and have been able to obtain credit from outside as well as within their organ- ization to increase production to meet increased demand. By contrast, a new industry in Cuba is not progrenssing so rapidly as it might because of insufficient association between those pri- marily interested. I am referring now to the kenaf fiber industry. Kenaf is a jute-like fiber whose development in the Western Hem- ispheere is a credit to technical cooperation between agricultural technicians of the United States and of Latin America. Kenaf is a crop of good promise to the Caribbean area. Its fiber will be a useful supplement to the huge quantities of jute that must be imported annually from the Far East. It will be a valuable source of new agricultural income. But the development of this new crop-its production, its processing, and its utilization-is highly dependent on governmental initiative. Increased impetus would come to this important development if individuals and business groups who stand to benefit from it were strongly associated, work- ing in unison toward a common objective. IV The second "human factor" affecting land use is access to information. There must be a flow of the world's experience to fluence in this direction, using every opportunity to demonstrate to other peoples the greater rewards that will come from individual effort when paralleled by associative effort. The coffee growers of Latin America are in a relatively sound position, economically and technologically. The corn growers of Latin America, by and large, are not. Why is there this disparity? Because those who have a primary interest in the coffee industry have long been working in association for their common interest. The corn growers are not associated: they have no group voice, they have no one to champion their cause. The essential oils industry of Guatemala, in a period of about ten years, has risen to a pre-eminent position in world trade. Lemon oil and citronella from Guatemalan producers is in world demand because of its standardized excellence. How has this happened? Because Guatemala's essential oil producers, through association, have called upon research to improve their product, have dis- ciplined themselves to maintain quality standards, and have been able to obtain credit from outside as well as within their organ- ization to increase production to meet increased demand. By contrast, a new industry in Cuba is not progressing so rapidly as it might because of insufficient association between those pri- marily interested. I am referring now to the kenaf fiber industry. Kenaf is a jute-like fiber whose development in the Western Hem- isphere is a credit to technical cooperation between agricultural technicians of the United States and of Latin America. Kenaf is a crop of good promise to the Caribbean area. Its fiber will be a useful supplement to the huge quantities of jute that must be imported annually from the Far East. It will be a valuable source of new agricultural income. But the development of this new crop-its production, its processing, and its utilization-is highly dependent on governmental initiative. Increased impetus would come to this important development if individuals and business groups who stand to benefit from it were strongly associated, work- ing in unison toward a common objective. IV The second "human factor" affecting land use is access to information. There must be a flow of the world's experience to  LAND 49 LAND 49 LAND farmers, processors, and marketers, in a form that they can use, or the most productive utilization of land resources cannot pos- sibly be achieved. Recently a World Land Tenure Conference was held at the University of Wisconsin at which representatives of thirty-eight nations explored relationships between people and the land. In their report they called special attention to "the prime importance of education and communication in a land tenure program." In the opinion of the delegates, "creating an ideal economic farming unit and putting it in the hands of an illiterate farmer bound to the old ways of agriculture by superstition and custom does little to solve the basic problem." In order to obtain effective use of lands, then, farmers must have at their disposal a variety of agricultural information coming through a variety of media from a variety of sources. Adjoining the northwest sector of the state of Florida is the state of Alabama. Not long ago a survey was made to determine the ways in which Alabama farmers obtain the information that has caused them to improve their farming methods. The survey indicated that 38 per cent of the information came from reading matter, including farm magazines, newspapers, bulletins, leaflets, and circular letters; 24 per cent came from personal contacts, especially with neigh- bors and friends; 20 per cent came from attending group meetings held for reasons of agricultural improvement; 10 per cent came from listening to farm programs over the radio; and 8 per cent came from such visual aids as colored slides and motion pictures. We know from the years of experience of our Extension Service in the United States that there is no short cut to getting farmers to adopt recommended agricultural practices. For, in the first place, the information to be given them must be accurate and practicable; and secondly, it must be presented through a number of avenues so that it will fall into the hands of the largest possible number of farm people. We commonly take it for granted that our banking industry must have financial information, our manufacturers must have supply-and-demand information, our merchants must have market- ing information. There is equal need for a free flow of information in the field of agriculture. El Salvador is one of our neighbor countries that is giving strong recognition to this need. With the farmers, processors, and marketers, in a form that they can use, or the most productive utilization of land ctsources cannot pos- sibly be achieved. Recently a World Land Tenure Conference was held at the University of Wisconsin at which representatives of thirty-eight nations explored relationships between people and the land. In their report they called special attention to "the prime importance of education and communication in a land tenure program." In the opinion of the delegates, "creating an ideal economic farming unit and putting it in the hands of an illiterate farmer bound to the old ways of agriculture by superstition and custom does little to solve the basic problem." In order to obtain effective use of lands, then, farmers must have at their disposal a variety of agricultural information coming through a variety of media from a variety of sources. Adjoining the northwest sector of the state of Florida is the state of Alabama. Not long ago a survey was made to determine the ways in which Alabama farmers obtain the information that has caused them to improve their farming methods. The survey indicated that 38 per cent of the information came from reading matter, including farm magazines, newspapers, bulletins, leaflets, and circular lette; 24 per cent came from personal contacts, especially with neigh- bors and friends; 20 per cent came from attending group meetings held for reasons of agricultural improvement; 10 per cent came from listening to farm programs over the radio; and 8 per cent came from such visual aids as colored slides and motion pictures. We know from the years of experience of our Extension Service in the United States that there is no short cut to getting farmers to adopt recommended agricultural practices. For, in the first place, the information to be given them must be accurate and practicable; and secondly, it must be presented through a number of avenues so that it will fall into the hands of the largest possible number of farm people. We commonly take it for granted that our banking industry must have financial information, our manufacturers must have supply-and-demand information, our merchants must have market- ing information. There is equal need for a free flow of information in the field of agriculture. El Salvador is one of our neighbor countries that is giving strong recognition to this need. With the farmers, processors, and marketers, in a form that they can use, or the most productive utilization of land resources cannot pos- sibly be achieved. Recently a World Land Tenum Conference was held at the University of Wisconsin at which representatives of thirty-eight nations explored relationships between people and the land. In their report they called special attention to "the prime importance of education and communication in a land tenure program." In the opinion of the delegates, "creating an ideal economic farming unit and putting it in the hands of an illiterate farmer bound to the old ways of agriculture by superstition and custom does little to solve the basic problem." In order to obtain effective use of lands, then, farmers must have at their disposal a variety of agricultural information coming through a variety of media from a variety of sources. Adjoining the northwest sector of the state of Florida is the state of Alabama. Not long ago a survey was made to determine the ways in which Alabama farmers obtain the information that has caused them to improve their farming methods. The survey indicated that 38 per cent of the information came from reading matter, including farm magazines, newspapers, bulletins, leaflets, and circular letters; 24 per cent came from personal contacts, especially with neigh- bors and friends; 20 per cent came from attending group meetings held for reasons of agricultural improvement; 10 per cent came from listening to farm programs over the radio; and 8 per cent came from such visual aids as colored slides and motion pictures. We know from the years of experience of our Extension Service in the United States that there is no short cut to getting farmers to adopt recommended agricultural practices. For, in the first place, the information to be given them must be accurate and practicable; and secondly, it must be presented through a number of avenues so that it will fall into the hands of the largest possible number of farm people. We commonly take it for granted that our banking industry must have financial information, our manufacturers must have supply-and-demand information, our merchants must have market- ing information. There is equal need for a free flow of information in the field of agriculture. El Salvador is one of our neighbor countries that is giving strong recognition to this need. With the  50 The Caribbean advice and consultation of one of our Department of Agriculture economists, and as part of our Point Four cooperative work with El Salvador, its Ministry of Agriculture has secently inaugurated a market reporting system. Our economist, Mr. E. W. Ranck, has sent us the following interesting report: For the first time in the history of El Salvador, a market report of farm crops is being published weekly. The Centro Nacional de Agronomia has assisted the Ministry of Agriculture in setting up a system whereby the Ministry's De- partment of Economic Studies and Statistics collects crop price information weekly in the Republic's fourteen principal market centers. Items reported include: corn, milo maize, rice, wheat, beans (white, red, and black), sesame, beef, pork, and lard. This in- formation in table form is released to the press on Fridays and appears in the week-end papers. Surplus and scarcity frequently exist simultaneously in different parts of El Salvador with wide variation in the prices farmers get for their crops. Lack of information as to where surplus and scarcity exist has contributed to poor distribution of these articles of prime necessity. The new market reporting service should be of practical benefit not only to producers but to distributors and consumers alike. I have stressed here the actual communication services of a nation without saying enough, perhaps, about the research and educational institutions, both private and public, that must exist to make the free flow of information possible. Where there are weather reports there must be weather stations. Where there are pamphlets on crop production there must be research stations. Where there are progressive farmers there must be educational institutions that constantly strive to raise the literacy and under- standing of people. Put all such elements together and they spell the enlightenment that is essential if farmers are to make effective use of their resources. A third "human factor" affecting land utilization is availability of credit. By credit I mean more than an arrangement whereby 50 The Caribbean 50 The Caribbean advice and consultation of one of our Department of Agriculture economists, and as part of our Point Four cooperative work with El Salvador, its Ministry of Agriculture has recently inaugurated a market reporting system. Our economist, Mr. E. W. Ranck, has sent us the following interesting report: For the first time in the history of El Salvador, a market report of farm crops is being published weekly. The Centro Nacional de Agronomia has assisted the Ministry of Agriculture in setting up a system whereby the Ministry's De- partment of Economic Studies and Statistics collects crop price information weekly in the Republic's fourteen principal market centers. Items reported include: corn, milo maize, rice, wheat, beans (white, red, and black), sesame, beef, pork, and lard. This in- formation in table form is released to the press on Fridays and appears in the week-end papers. Surplus and scarcity frequently exist simultaneously in different parts of El Salvador with wide variation in the prices farmers get for their crops. Lack of information as to where surplus and scarcity exist has contributed to poor distribution of these articles of prime necessity. The new market reporting service should be of practical benefit not only to producers but to distributors and consumers alike. I have stressed here the actual communication services of a nation without saying enough, perhaps, about the research and educational institutions, both private and public, that must exist to make the free flow of information possible. Where there are weather reports there must be weather stations. Where there are pamphlets on crop production there must be research stations. Where there are progrnssive farmers there must be educational institutions that constantly strive to raise the literacy and under- standing of people. Put all such elements together and they spell the enlightenment that is essential if farmers are to make effective use of their resources. V A third "human factor" affecting land utilization is availability of credit. By credit I mean more than an arrangement whereby advice and consultation of one of our Department of Agriculture economists, and as part of our Point Four cooperative work with El Salvador, its Ministry of Agriculture has recently inaugurated a market reporting system. Our economist, Mr. E. W. Ranck, has sent us the following interesting report: For the first time in the history of El Salvador, a market report of farm crops is being published weekly. The Centro Nacional de Agronomia has assisted the Ministry of Agriculture in setting up a system whereby the Ministry's De- partment of Economic Studies and Statistics collects crop price information weekly in the Republic's fourteen principal market centers. Items reported include: corn, milo maize, rice, wheat, beans (white, red, and black), sesame, beef, pork, and lard. This in- formation in table form is released to the press on Fridays and appears in the week-end papers. Surplus and scarcity frequently exist simultaneously in different parts of El Salvador with wide variation in the prices farmers get for their crops. Lack of information as to where surplus and scarcity exist has contributed to poor distribution of these articles of prime necessity. The new market reporting service should be of practical benefit not only to producers but to distributors and consumers alike. I have stressed here the actual communication services of a nation without saying enough, perhaps, about the research and educational institutions, both private and public, that must exist to make the free flow of information possible. Where there are weather reports there must be weather stations. Where there are pamphlets on crop production there must be research stations. Where there are progressive farmers there must be educational institutions that constantly strive to raise the literacy and under- standing of people. Put all such elements together and they spell the enlightenment that is essential if farmers are to make effective use of their resources. A third "human factor" affecting land utilization is availability of credit. By credit I mean more than an arrangement whereby  LAND 51 LAND 51 LAND a farmer can borrow money at reasonable rates of interest, impor- tant as that is. I refer to a rational system of economics based on trust in which all members of a nation can participate. I refer, in short, to the need for making farmers more complete partners in the system known as capitalism, which permits the accumulation of capital on the one hand and its investment into creative enterprise on the other. The farmers of the world, and this includes those of the Carib- bean area, too often are excluded or at least partially excluded from the rewards that can come from the availability of credit and the equitable management of fiscal resources. These lines from Kipling, describing the Far Eastern peasant of half a century ago, still remain singularly appropriate: His speech is mortgaged bedding, On his hine he borrows yet, At his heart is his daughter's wedding, In his eye foreknowledge of debt. He eats and hath indigestion, He toils and he may not stop, His life is a long-drawn question, Between a crop and a crop. Too often that economic description of the 1890's still applies today-with some exceptions. Here and there we find evidence of change for the better. In India, where those lines were written, I have seen rural cooperatives, recently organized and full of vitality, offering new financial hope to their members. In Puerto Rico, many farm families are benefiting from governmental pro- duction loans and home-ownership loans, and are proving to be outstandingly good credit risks. In other areas, as well, we have spotty evidence of greater economic opportunity coming to rural people-but we can regret that the opportunity continues to be much greater for the large farmer who grows a crop for world markets than for the smaller farmer who supplies his own family and local markets. Effective land use cannot be brought about, in the Caribbean area or elsewhere, in the face of static economic opportunity. Economic opportunity is, in reality, a chain reaction. As capital is made available to producers, they are able to improve and expand a farmer can borrow money at reasonable rates of interest, impor- tant as that is. I refer to a rational system of economics based on trust in which all members of a nation can participate. I refer, in short, to the need for making farmers more complete partners in the system known as capitalism, which permits the accumulation of capital on the one hand and its investment into creative enterprise on the other. The farmers of the world, and this includes those of the Carib- bean area, too often are excluded or at least partially excluded from the rewards that can come from the availability of credit and the equitable management of fiscal resources. These lines from Kipling, describing the Far Eastern peasant of half a century ago, still remain singularly appropriate: His speech is mortgaged bedding, On his kine he borrows yet, At his heart is his daughter's wedding, In his eye foreknowledge of debt. He eats and bath indigestion, He toils and he may not stop, His life is a long-drawn question, Between a crop and a crop. Too often that economic description of the 1890's still applies today-with some exceptions. Here and there we find evidence of change for the better. In India, where those lines were written, I have seen rural cooperatives, rcently organized and full of vitality, offering new financial hope to their members. In Puerto Rico, many farm families are benefiting from governmental pro- duction loans and home-ownership loans, and are proving to be outstandingly good credit risks. In other areas, as well, we have spotty evidence of greater economic opportunity coming to rural people-but we can regret that the opportunity continues to be much greater for the large farmer who grows a crop for world markets than for the smaller farmer who supplies his own family and local markets. Effective land use cannot be brought about, in the Caribbean area or elsewhere, in the face of static economic opportunity. Economic opportunity is, in reality, a chain reaction. As capital is made available to producers, they are able to improve and expand a farmer can borrow money at reasonable rates of interest, impor- tant as that is. I refer to a rational system of economics based on trust in which all members of a nation can participate. I refer, in short, to the need for making farmers more complete partners in the system known as capitalism, which permits the accumulation of capital on the one hand and its investment into creative enterprise on the other. The farmers of the world, and this includes those of the Carib- bean area, too often are excluded or at least partially excluded from the rewards that can come from the availability of credit and the equitable management of fiscal resources. These lines from Kipling, describing the Far Eastern peasant of half a century ago, still remain singularly appropriate: His speech is mortgaged bedding, On his hine he borrows yet, At his heart is his daughter's wedding, In his eye foreknowledge of debt. He eats and hath indigestion, He toils and he may not stop, His life is a long-drawn question, Between a crop and a crop. Too often that economic description of the 1890's still applies today-with some exceptions. Here and there we find evidence of change for the better. In India, where those lines were written, I have seen rural cooperatives, recently organized and full of vitality, offering new financial hope to their members. In Puerto Rico, many farm families are benefiting from governmental pro- duction loans and home-ownership loans, and are proving to be outstandingly good credit risks. In other areas, as well, we have spotty evidence of greater economic opportunity coming to rural people-but we can regret that the opportunity continues to be much greater for the large farmer who grows a crop for world markets than for the smaller farmer who supplies his own family and local markets. Effective land use cannot be brought about, in the Caribbean area or elsewhere, in the face of static economic opportunity. Economic opportunity is, in reality, a chain reaction. As capital is made available to producers, they are able to improve and expand  52 The Caribbean their operations. This crmates new income which in turn strengthens a nation's tax structure. Additional public revenue makes possible the expansion of such public services as research, education, dis- semination of information, and similar essential facilities that improve the use of capital resources. Which is the more important or which comes first cannot be said, for each is equally important to the other. VI The fourth, and last, "human factor" is security of tenure. Access to land and security in the use of land are among the major determinants of land utilization in the Caribbean area. Many of you are acquainted with the Caribbean Land Tenure Symposium, conducted since the last war by the Caribbean Commission. This Symposium effectively brought out the contrast between the pro- ducer who has security and the producer who does not. In the words of Mr. Marshall Harris, agricultural economist representing the United States Department of Agriculture: The farmer who occupies the land with a high degree of security will be encouraged to improve and conserve the land, to build it up, to farm in a husbandman-like manner, and to take pride in that which he expects to use over the years.... But what about the farmer who holds his land insecurely, who may move next year or at most the year after, whose expected occupancy is short? He cannot plan and carry out crop rotations and develop herds and flocks. He will invariably engage in the production of an annual cash crop. He does not have a reasonable incentive to follow soil-building and soil-conserving practices. He cannot afford to incmase production through drainage or clearing; he will not take chances on liming or using fertilizers that will last for more than a year or two, for he does not know that he will enjoy the fruits of his labor. ... The tenure system must provide a reasonable degree of security for every farm family. Not dead- ening security, not complete assurance, not an irrevocable occu- pancy, but enough confidence in the future to bring forth maximum effort to follow through on sensible long time plans.... We can be glad that recognition is being given in every part of the Caribbean area to this all-important problem of land tenure. 52 The Caribbean their operations. This creates new income which in turn strengthens a nation's tax structure. Additional public revenue makes possible the expansion of such public services as research, education, dis- semination of information, and similar essential facilities that improve the use of capital resources. Which is the more important or which comes first cannot be said, for each is equally important to the other. VI The fourth, and last, "human factor" is security of tenure. Access to land and security in the use of land are among the major determinants of land utilization in the Caribbean area. Many of you are acquainted with the Caribbean Land Tenure Symposium, conducted since the last war by the Caribbean Commission. This Symposium effectively brought out the contrast between the pro- ducer who has security and the producer who does not. In the words of Mr. Marshall Harris, agricultural economist representing the United States Department of Agriculture: The farmer who occupies the land with a high degree of security will be encouraged to improve and conserve the land, to build it up, to farm in a husbandman-like manner, and to take pride in that which he expects to use over the years.... But what about the farmer who holds his land insecurely, who may move next year or at most the year after, whose expected occupancy is short? He cannot plan and carry out crop rotations and develop herds and flocks. He will invariably engage in the production of an annual cash crop. He does not have a reasonable incentive to follow soil-building and soil-conserving practices. He cannot afford to increase production through drainage or clearing; he will not take chances on liming or using fertilizers that will last for more than a year or two, for he does not know that he will enjoy the fruits of his labor.... The tenure system must provide a reasonable degree of security for every farm family. Not dead- ening security, not complete assurance, not an irrevocable occu- pancy, but enough confidence in the future to bring forth maximum effort to follow through on sensible long time plans.... We can be glad that recognition is being given in every part of the Caribbean area to this all-important problem of land tenure. 52 The Caribbean their operations. This creates new income which in turn strengthens a nation's tax structure. Additional public revenue makes possible the expansion of such public services as research, education, dis- semination of information, and similar essential facilities that improve the use of capital resources. Which is the more important or which comes first cannot be said, for each is equally important to the other. VI The fourth, and last, "human factor" is security of tenure. Access to land and security in the use of land are among the major determinants of land utilization in the Caribbean area. Many of you are acquainted with the Caribbean Land Tenure Symposium, conducted since the last war by the Caribbean Commission. This Symposium effectively brought out the contrast between the pro- ducer who has security and the producer who does not. In the words of Mr. Marshall Harris, agricultural economist representing the United States Department of Agriculture: The farmer who occupies the land with a high degree of security will be encouraged to improve and conserve the land, to build it up, to farm in a husbandman-like manner, and to take pride in that which he expects to use over the years.... But what about the farmer who holds his land insecurely, who may move next year or at most the year after, whose expected occupancy is short? He cannot plan and carry out crop rotations and develop herds and flocks. He will invariably engage in the production of an annual cash crop. He does not have a reasonable incentive to follow soil-building and soil-conserving practices. He cannot afford to increase production through drainage or clearing; he will not take chances on liming or using fertilizers that will last for more than a year or two, for he does not know that he will enjoy the fruits of his labor.... The tenure system must provide a masonable degree of security for every farm family. Not dead- ening security, not complete assurance, not an irrevocable occu- pancy, but enough confidence in the future to bring forth maximum effort to follow through on sensible long time plans.... We can be glad that recognition is being given in every part of the Caribbean area to this all-important problem of land tenure.  LAND 53 LAND 53 LAND There is no unanimous opinion as to man's ideal relationship with the land he tills, but there is growing recognition that efficient utilization of natural resources, and community prosperity and stability, cannot come except as conditions of land tenure are significantly improved. Perhaps individual ownership may not always be the ultimate goal in the more populous Caribbean ama, as it is here in the United States. Nevertheless, greater access to land and greater security in the use of that land must come to the Caribbean area if its farm people are to make their maximum contribution. VII We find, then, four principal human factors influencing man's effective use of land: the degree to which he associates himself with others of similar aspirations; his access to helpful information; the availability of credit needed to enhance his productivity; and, finally, his access to land and security of tenure in using that land. Leadership in bringing these factors into play springs largely from social institutions, private and public, whose reason for being is to promote the greater welfare. It seems particularly pertinent at this time, with national and international programs for tech- nical assistance bringing new hope to nations, that the essentiality of a people's own private and public institutions capable of exert- ing this leadership be kept in the forefront. In every country, however primitive, either the beginnings of these necessary social institutions exist or the seeds of their being are present. It should be a major aim of all technical cooperation programs, whether the Point Four Program of the United States or the international programs of the United Nations, to encourage these national insti- tutions and let them assume positions of leadership. Solutions for land utilization problems, or any other national problems, must in the final analysis come from within a country, whether it is in, the Caribbean area or elsewhere. This means, then, that people will find their answers within the institutions of their own making. Our assistance can be permanently effective only insofar as it fosters the development of such institutions so that they, in turn, can care for those four basic human needs-freedom of association, free- dom of information, equality of opportunity, and security of tenure. There is no unanimous opinion as to man's ideal relationship with the land he tills, but there is growing recognition that efficient utilization of natural resources, and community prosperity and stability, cannot come except as conditions of land tenure are significantly improved. Perhaps individual ownership may not always be the ultimate goal in the more populous Caribbean area, as it is here in the United States. Nevertheless, greater access to land and greater security in the use of that land must come to the Caribbean area if its farm people are to make their maximum contribution. VII We find, then, four principal human factors influencing man's effective use of land: the degree to which he associates himself with others of similar aspirations; his access to helpful information; the availability of credit needed to enhance his productivity; and, finally, his access to land and security of tenure in using that land. Leadership in bringing these factors into play springs largely from social institutions, private and public, whose reason for being is to promote the greater welfare. It seems particularly pertinent at this time, with national and international programs for tech- nical assistance bringing new hope to nations, that the essentiality of a people's own private and public institutions capable of exert- ing this leadership be kept in the forefront. In every country, however primitive, either the beginnings of these necessary social institutions exist or the seeds of their being are present. It should be a major aim of all technical cooperation programs, whether the Point Four Program of the United States or the international programs of the United Nations, to encourage these national insti- tutions and let them assume positions of leadership. Solutions for land utilization problems, or any other national problems, must in the final analysis come from within a country, whether it is in the Caribbean area or elsewhere. This means, then, that people will find their answers within the institutions of their own making. Our assistance can be permanently effective only insofar as it fosters the development of such institutions so that they, in turn, can care for those four basic human needs-freedom of association, free- dom of information, equality of opportunity, and security of tenure. There is no unanimous opinion as to man's ideal relationship with the land he tills, but there is growing recognition that efficient utilization of natural resources, and community prosperity and stability, cannot come except as conditions of land tenure are significantly improved. Perhaps individual ownership may not always be the ultimate goal in the more populous Caribbean area, as it is here in the United States. Nevertheless, greater access to land and greater security in the use of that land must come to the Caribbean area if its farm people are to make their maximum contribution. VII We find, then, four principal human factors influencing man's effective use of land: the degree to which he associates himself with others of similar aspirations; his access to helpful information; the availability of credit needed to enhance his productivity; and, finally, his access to land and security of tenure in using that land. Leadership in bringing these factors into play springs largely from social institutions, private and public, whose reason for being is to promote the greater welfare. It seems particularly pertinent at this time, with national and international programs for tech- nical assistance bringing new hope to nations, that the essentiality of a people's own private and public institutions capable of exert- ing this leadership be kept in the forefront. In every country, however primitive, either the beginnings of these necessary social institutions exist or the seeds of their being are present. It should be a major aim of all technical cooperation programs, whether the Point Four Program of the United States or the international programs of the United Nations, to encourage these national insti- tutions and let them assume positions of leadership. Solutions for land utilization problems, or any other national problems, must in the final analysis come from within a country, whether it is in- the Caribbean area or elsewhere. This means, then, that people will find their answers within the institutions of their own making. Our assistance can be permanently effective only insofar as it fosters the development of such institutions so that they, in turn, can care for those four basic human needs-freedom of association, free- dom of information, equality of opportunity, and security of tenu.  6 6 Rafael Pic6: * SURVEYING LAND USE IN PUERTO RICO PUERTO RICO has just finished the field work of a survey of which the scope and extent have not been matched elsewhere. The whole area of the island, 3,423 square miles of tropical plains and subtropical hills, has been thoroughly mapped on a very large scale. A wide range of geographic and cultural conditions is portrayed in this work. Level and humid (except in the irrigated South) sugar-cane fields, tobacco covered hillsides, coffee farms on the rainy flanks of the west-central mountains, native food crops all over the hills of the interior, forests clothing the highest peaks, a belt of mangroves bordering the coast-line-they are all graphically illustrated in this survey of the physical resources and man's labor on the Puerto Rican land. The large scale (1:10,000) and thoroughness of the survey and the diversity of the geographic regions make Puerto Rico's land-use survey unique. The Rural Land Classification Program, as it is being carried out in Puerto Rico, is a geographic survey of the use of the land and its physical characteristics. The present land utilization indi- cates the enterprises that the farmer has found to be economically advantageous, but they might not correspond to the optimum use of the land from the social standpoint. Undoubtedly, much land * Grateful acknowledgment for aid received in the preparation of this paper is hereby extended to Mrs. Zayda Buitrago Santiago, Geographic Re- searcher Assistant, Puerto Rico Planning Board, and to Mr. H6ctor Berrios, Chief, Land Economic Division, Department of Agriculture, and other per- sonnel of the Insular Department of Agriculture and Commerce. Rafael Pic6: * SURVEYING LAND USE IN PUERTO RICO PUERTO RICO has just finished the field work of a survey of which the scope and extent have not been matched elsewhere. The whole area of the island, 3,423 square miles of tropical plains and subtropical hills, has been thoroughly mapped on a very large scale. A wide range of geographic and cultural conditions is portrayed in this work. Level and humid (except in the irrigated South) sugar-cane fields, tobacco covered hillsides, coffee farms on the rainy flanks of the west-central mountains, native food crops all over the hills of the interior, forests clothing the highest peaks, a belt of mangroves bordering the coast-line-they are all graphically illustrated in this survey of the physical resources and man's labor on the Puerto Rican land. The large scale (1:10,000) and thoroughness of the survey and the diversity of the geographic regions make Puerto Rico's land-use survey unique. The Rural Land Classification Program, as it is being carried out in Puerto Rico, is a geographic survey of the use of the land and its physical characteristics. The present land utilization indi- cates the enterprises that the farmer has found to be economically advantageous, but they might not correspond to the optimum use of the land from the social standpoint. Undoubtedly, much land * Grateful acknowledgment for aid received in the preparation of this paper is hereby extended to Mrs. Zayda Buitrago Santiago, Geographic Re- searcher Assistant, Puerto Rico Planning Board, and to Mr. H6ctor Berrios, Chief, Land Economic Division, Department of Agriculture, and other per. sonnel of the Insular Department of Agriculture and Commerce. 54 Rafael Pic: * SURVEYING LAND USE IN PUERTO RICO PUERTO RICO has just finished the field work of a survey of which the scope and extent have not been matched elsewhere. The whole area of the island, 3,423 square miles of tropical plains and subtropical hills, has been thoroughly mapped on a very large scale. A wide range of geographic and cultural conditions is portrayed in this work. Level and humid (except in the irrigated South) sugar-cane fields, tobacco covered hillsides, coffee farms on the rainy flanks of the west-central mountains, native food crops all over the hills of the interior, forests clothing the highest peaks, a belt of mangroves bordering the coast-line-they are all graphically illustrated in this survey of the physical resources and man's labor on the Puerto Rican land. The large scale (1:10,000) and thoroughness of the survey and the diversity of the geographic regions make Puerto Rico's land-use survey unique. The Rural Land Classification Program, as it is being carried out in Puerto Rico, is a geographic survey of the use of the land and its physical characteristics. The present land utilization indi- cates the enterprises that the farmer has found to be economically advantageous, but they might not correspond to the optimum use of the land from the social standpoint. Undoubtedly, much land * Grateful acknowledgment for aid received in the preparation of this paper is hereby extended to Mrs. Zayda Buitrago Santiago, Geographic Re- searcher Assistant, Puerto Rico Planning Board, and to Mr. H6ctor Berries, Chief, Land Economic Division, Department of Agriculture, and other per- sonnel of the Insular Department of Agriculture and Commerce. 54  LAND 55 LAND 55 LAND could be used to better advantage. In land-hungry Puerto Rico, it is imperative for us to make the maximum use of our land resources. Consequently, this land-use survey is considered essential in the formulation of plans for the readjustment of the present agricultural pattern. Furthermore, an inventory of the potentialities of the land also should help to guide programs of public services and other expenditures of resources in any region of Puerto Rico. With this goal in mind, the author of this paper invited, in 1949, Dr. Clarence F. Jones, of the Department of Geography of Northwestern University, to direct such a survey in Puerto Rico. As a result of this invitation, Professor Jones came to the island together with Dr. G. Donald Hudson, then head of the Geography Department of Northwestern, to discuss the feasibility of this pro- gram. Both men had wide experience in similar surveys. After several conferences with all the agencies interested in the pro- gram, Drs. Jones and Hudson prepared a statement on the objectives of the field mapping which would not only include the mapping of the land use, but which would also record, in one single operation, the physical characteristics of the land. It was agreed that Northwestern University would furnish ad- vanced students in geography who would do the field work for their doctoral dissertations in Puerto Rico, in connection with the mapping survey. A Puerto Rican technician, acting as interpreter and interviewer, was to be added to each team. The travel and subsistence expenses of the graduate students were covered by the insular agencies. At the beginning, the Planning Board and the Social Science Research Center of the University of Puerto Rico were the local sponsors of the survey. Shortly thereafter, the Insular Department of Agriculture and Commerce joined the above-mentioned agencies in the direction of the program, as the department saw the value of the land-use survey in its plans for the betterment of agricul- tural conditions in the island. The survey started with a modest appropriation of $16,000, to which was added $25,000 frm funds of the Department of Agri- culture. As the work progressed and it was necessary to accelerate the program, more funds were apprepriated. In 1950 the Legis- lature of Puerto Rico appropriated the sum of $105,000 to the Department of Agriculture and Commerce to conclude the field could be used to better advantage. In land-hungry Puerto Rico, it is imperative for us to make the maximum use of our land resources. Consequently, this land-use survey is considered essential in the formulation of plans for the readjustment of the present agricultural pattern. Furthermore, an inventory of the potentialities of the land also should help to guide programs of public services and other expenditures of resources in any region of Puerto Rico. With this goal in mind, the author of this paper invited, in 1949, Dr. Clarence F. Jones, of the Department of Geography of Northwestern University, to direct such a survey in Puerto Rico. As a result of this invitation, Professor Jones came to the island together with Dr. G. Donald Hudson, then head of the Geography Department of Northwestern, to discuss the feasibility of this pro- gram. Both men had wide experience in similar surveys. After several conferences with all the agencies interested in the pro- gram, Drs. Jones and Hudson prepared a statement on the objectives of the field mapping which would not only include the mapping of the land use, but which would also record, in one single operation, the physical characteristics of the land. It was agreed that Northwestern University would furnish ad- vanced students in geography who would do the field work for their doctoral dissertations in Puerto Rico, in connection with the mapping survey. A Puerto Rican technician, acting as interpreter and interviewer, was to be added to each team. The travel and subsistence expenses of the graduate students were covered by the insular agencies. At the beginning, the Planning Board and the Social Science Research Center of the University of Puerto Rico were the local sponsors of the survey. Shortly thereafter, the Insular Department of Agriculture and Commerce joined the above-mentioned agencies in the direction of the program, as the department saw the value of the land-use survey in its plans for the betterment of agricul- tural conditions in the island. The survey started with a modest appropriation of $16,000, to which was added $25,000 from funds of the Department of Agri- culture. As the work progressed and it was necessary to accelerate the program, more funds were appropriated. In 1950 the Legis- lature of Puerto Rico appropriated the sum of $105,000 to the Department of Agriculture and Commerce to conclude the field could be used to better advantage. In land-hungry Puerto Rico, it is imperative for us to make the maximum use of our land resources. Consequently, this land-use survey is considered essential in the formulation of plans for the readjustment of the present agricultural pattern. Furthermore, an inventory of the potentialities of the land also should help to guide programs of public services and other expenditures of resources in any region of Puerto Rico. With this goal in mind, the author of this paper invited, in 1949, Dr. Clarence F. Jones, of the Department of Geography of Northwestern University, to direct such a survey in Puerto Rico. As a result of this invitation, Professor Jones came to the island together with Dr. G. Donald Hudson, then head of the Geography Department of Northwestern, to discuss the feasibility of this pro- gram. Both men had wide experience in similar surveys. After several conferences with all the agencies interested in the pro- gram, Drs. Jones and Hudson prepared a statement on the objectives of the field mapping which would not only include the mapping of the land use, but which would also record, in one single operation, the physical characteristics of the land. It was agreed that Northwestern University would furnish ad- vanced students in geography who would do the field work for their doctoral dissertations in Puerto Rico, in connection with the mapping survey. A Puerto Rican technician, acting as interpreter and interviewer, was to be added to each team. The travel and subsistence expenses of the graduate students were covered by the insular agencies. At the beginning, the Planning Board and the Social Science Research Center of the University of Puerto Rico were the local sponsors of the survey. Shortly thereafter, the Insular Department of Agriculture and Commerce joined the above-mentioned agencies in the direction of the program, as the department saw the value of the land-use survey in its plans for the betterment of agricul- tural conditions in the island. The survey started with a modest appropriation of $16,000, to which was added $25,000 from funds of the Department of Agri- culture. As the work progressed and it was necessary to accelerate the program, more funds were appropriated. In 1950 the Legis- lature of Puerto Rico appropriated the sum of $105,000 to the Department of Agriculture and Commerce to conclude the field  56 The Caribbean work and compile a land use map with the material obtained. The total estimated cost up to and including the preparation of the final land use maps will be approximately $150,000. On July 1, 1950, the department took over entirely the administration and direction of the program. The original sponsors, that is, the Plan- ning Board and the University of Puerto Rico, remained in an advisory capacity to the department. The program was originally planned for four years, but owing to the urgency of collecting the data at the earliest practicable time, it was decided to reduce the mapping period to two years, from July, 1949 to September, 1951. That change requimd another adjustment as to the source of the graduate students. Northwestern provided the majority, but the program was expanded to encompass other universities in the continental United States. All applicants submitted their credentials to the Geography Department of North- western for their approval. In the end, ten universities were represented in the survey, as follows: eight students from North- western, two from Syracuse, two from Wisconsin and one each from the Universities of Chicago, Clark, Michigan, Washington, Illinois, Maryland, and Nebraska. I am happy to say that the first student who worked in the survey is now Professor Donald R. Dyer, of the Department of Geography at the University of Florida. . Mapping Procedure The land use and the physical characteristics of the land were surveyed, on the basis of the unit-area method, using a fractional code system of notation of the field data. This method was first used by the Tennessee Valley Authority and it included the map- ping of the land use, degree of slope, soil classes, condition of drainage, amount of erosion, degree of stoniness, and amount of rock exposure. In Puerto Rico the size of the unit area ranges from many acres on level land along the coast, to areas of one acre in the central part of the island. All buildings and other structures were mapped with standard or conventional symbols. Aerial vertical photographs and topographic sheets at a scale of 1: 10,000 were used to plot the field information. The identification of soil types was accomplished through the use 56 The Caribbean 56 The Caribbean work and compile a land use map with the material obtained. The total estimated cost up to and including the preparation of the final land use maps will be approximately $150,000. On July 1, 1950, the department took over entirely the administration and direction of the program. The original sponsors, that is, the Plan- ning Board and the University of Puerto Rico, remained in an advisory capacity to the department. The program was originally planned for four years, but owing to the urgency of collecting the data at the earliest practicable time, it was decided to reduce the mapping period to two years, from July, 1949 to September, 1951. That change required another adjustment as to the source of the graduate students. Northwestern provided the majority, but the program was expanded to encompass ether universities in the continental United States. All applicants submitted their credentials to the Geography Department of North- western for their approval. In the end, ten universities were represented in the survey, as follows: eight students from North- western, two from Syracuse, two from Wisconsin and one each from the Universities of Chicago, Clark, Michigan, Washington, Illinois, Maryland, and Nebraska. I am happy to say that the first student who worked in the survey is now Professor Donald R. Dyer, of the Department of Geography at the University of Florida. . Mapping Procedure The land use and the physical characteristics of the land were surveyed, on the basis of the unit-area method, using a fractional code system of notation of the field data. This method was first used by the Tennessee Valley Authority and it included the map- ping of the land use, degree of slope, soil classes, condition of drainage, amount of erosion, degree of stoniness, and amount of rock exposure. In Puerto Rico the size of the unit area ranges from many acres on level land along the coast, to areas of one acre in the central part of the island. All buildings and other structures were mapped with standard or conventional symbols. Aerial vertical photographs and topographic sheets at a scale of 1: 10,000 were used to plot the field information. The identification of soil types was accomplished through the use work and compile a land use map with the material obtained. The total estimated cost up to and including the preparation of the final land use maps will be approximately $150,000. On July 1, 1950, the department took over entirely the administration and direction of the program. The original sponsors, that is, the Plan- ning Board and the University of Puerto Rico, remained in an advisory capacity to the department. The program was originally planned for four years, but owing to the urgency of collecting the data at the earliest practicable time, it was decided to reduce the mapping period to two years, from July, 1949 to September, 1951. That change requimd another adjustment as to the source of the graduate students. Northwestern provided the majority, but the program was expanded to encompass ether universities in the continental United States. All applicants submitted their credentials to the Geography Department of North- western for their approval. In the end, ten universities were represented in the survey, as follows: eight students from North- western, two from Syracuse, two from Wisconsin and one each from the Universities of Chicago, Clark, Michigan, Washington, Illinois, Maryland, and Nebraska. I am happy to say that the first student who worked in the survey is now Professor Donald R. Dyer, of the Department of Geography at the University of Florida. I. Mapping Procedure The land use and the physical characteristics of the land were surveyed, on the basis of the unit-area method, using a fractional code system of notation of the field data. This method was first used by the Tennessee Valley Authority and it included the map- ping of the land use, degree of slope, soil classes, condition of drainage, amount of erosion, degree of stoniness, and amount of rock exposure. In Puerto Rico the size of the unit area ranges from many acres on level land along the coast, to areas of one acre in the central part of the island. All buildings and other structures were mapped with standard or conventional symbols. Aerial vertical photographs and topographic sheets at a scale of 1:10,000 were used to plot the field information. The identification of soil types was accomplished through the use  LAND LD57 LAND 57 LAND of a soil omap atea scale of 1:50,000, published io 1942 by the Divitions of Soil Soeeey of tho Unoised Staeo Departoment of Ageicoltare. A oecoooaissoceadea goooral field study oflhepeseotland ate and she physical charsterittstcsoocoeoade prior to tho hegioniog of tho field wcork. The seapping keys aod the definoiloos of land usse termas and physical conditions coeos prepared weith the able assistance of she fallowsing intular tnd federal ageoctetton Puerto icco:Soil Coseretionfereice, Planinsg oard, Foest Service, InsularDepartenteotf Agicltuead Commcere, Scie- title Assessmoent Division of she Treasury Depatenteo, aod Insuar Agricultuaa Eaperientco Statioo. The islaod coat divided into eighteeo meappiog regions, each to be comopleted by 000 field teamo. These teamos outlinted the toapping areas, ating moaticipal houodariet hat trying to secure the moaximoto geographical homoogeneity weithia theta. Mapping regions ranged lease 125 to 289 sqaee mailes intea Each field tease seas coseposed of a chief, wcho had had eoperi- encee int this type of field work, anttahes studeot eceiviog oo-the- job training for a six-woeek period, and a Puerto Ricao ioterviewer woell acquaintced wcith the acea tohbe seapped. Each field tease was equipped wcith a "jeep" to facilitate its coch. The iateroiewcee, with his howledge of ceops, farminog mechods, aod other agricultural prohlemes of the island, helped the chief of the poesy and also intervewed faermers ont a systeseaticand eaodose samopling hasis cahile seapping seas going ont. The additiontal inforataion obtaioed 00 she Raral Peoperty Itersewc Schedales provided ahbundant data wohich could stat be recorded on field seeps. The faeseees were ioteroiewoed ass t samople hasis. The casepling coadone onthehbasisof theonuseecofrual houes. Theeratiosao heinsteeoiewedcwasteerived at inhe fllowigmaner: (1) one foe eery eight faeseer houses, (2) otte foe eery sixteen parcels less thao thee acec int site, (3) otte foe eoeey thirty-two chase- ceopper as squatters' shachs, tod (4) otte foe atty ashes clasp-foes eual dwaellers. Thissratiowas increased oedeceased daily accoed- ittg to the nuese of faeces int the area heing coached as. Thase selected ta he intecoiewoed supplied infosroatiott ott all agricaltuael production duriog the past twoelve monoths ad aches socio-ecoomic prohlsems. Ahout sia thouand iaseroicos coere taboo throughout the islansd. ofta soil seep acea scale of 1:50,000, pablished itt 1942 by she Divisiott of Sail Suroey of she Uttited States Depaestmeat of Agricaltare. A reconttaissattce tand a general field study of the present land ace tand she physical characteeistics case saeed prior so she beginninag of the field corck. The seapping keys attd she defiaitions of land se termos and physical consditions coere prepared woith she able assistance of she follocoittg locuae and fedecal agettcies in Puerto Ricco:Sil ConsoevtionSerice, Planing Board, Foest Seroice, locuae Depatmenott of Agricaltare attd Coserce, Scen- tific Assesssent Division of the Treasury Deparssents, and locua Agricalturel Eaperimsent Statiott. The island coat dioided ino eighteen seappiog regions, etch so he cosepleted by onte field cease. These teases outlined the seappittg aeas, asing seaticipl houndaies has trying to secure she msaxsease geographical hoseogeneisy coithin these. Meppiog regiottsrattged lease 125 to 289 square seiles inara Etch field tease coat coseposed of a chief, waho had had coperi- enee in this type of field coch, eanother studet receiing ott-the- job trainingfor a six-weeskperod, tand a Puerto ican itersciewer coll acquainted coith the tet cbs seapped. Each field tease cots eqaipped coith a "jeep" ta facilitate its coch. Tha interoiewer, caith his httowledge of crops, farmittg sethods, tand aches agricaltucal probleses of she islattd, helped the chief of the partyeandalsoinericoed fares ot a systeseaticandcandoe sesepling basic cohile seapping coat going at. The additiontal informatsiont obtained ontt he Earal Property Inoteroieco Schedules provided oaudat date cohich could not he recorded ont field seeps. The farers caese itttseiewed ont a saseple basis. The samsplittg cots done oa ths basic af she nuseberof steel houses. Tberato ato he ianteoiicoed cots aseioed at 10 she fallocoing maeet: (1)on foe every eight farmershoses, (2) onte faoeey sixteen parcels less than chres acres ia site, (3) otte foe seey thirty-two share- cropper as squastess' shacks, and (4) acte foe atty ather sixty-four ruraldoellers. Thissratiocwas icreased osdceased dilyccod- log to she numser of houses ia she aree beiag woorked as. Thase selected ta be iterciecoed sapplied insformsation ont all agricultuael production during the pass twelve moths tand other socio-econcas~ peobleses. Aboat six thoustnd interoicos case takett throughout the island. of asoilseap at acaleof 1:50,000, published in 1942 by the Dioisiot of Sadl Saroey of she Uted States Depeasseeat of Ageicultare. Aerecottnaissaceadeageneralfield stadyofsthe presentllttd ace tand she physical characteissics case seade prior so the beginnting of the field coch. The maeppittg keys tand the definitiotts of laod ase tosses anad physical conditios caese prepared waith the able assistattce of the follaoing inssar and federal agenes in PuertoaRico:SoiaCoecaionaSerice,PlanntingBoard, Foest Servic, InsularDepae ntse of Agcltue ad Comece, Siens- tific Acssesasn Dioisiton of the Tesuay Departessta, and Inoca Agricultual Experisents Station. The island coat dioided ito eighteeanseapping regioas, each so be coseplesed by otte field tease. Tbes etceases outlited she seappittg asseas, asing seaticipal hbottdaies has tryinsg toasecare she maetiseas geographical hoseogenseity woithin these. Mappittg regionscraaged lease 125 to 289 square seilec in aea Each field tease cots coseposed of a chief, waho had had coperi- eacs int this type of field coch, anttahes student receiving ass-the- job trainintg foe a six-woeek period, antd a Puerto Rican intcerviewer casl acqaited woith she aeaoesbeseapped. Each field teesecwas eqaipped woith a "jeep" so facilitate its workh. The iateroiecoer, coith his kowcledge of crops, faeseing methttds, tand ashes agricultual problecos of the islaod, helped the chief of the pasty and also intserviewoed farmercsont a systesetc tand randose sasepliag basis wahile seappittg coat goittg ont. The additioal information obteioed act the Eucal Peopeesy Intceroiew Schedales provided abundant dose wchich could nttabeeeosded onfieldsmaps. The faesesrs cocos intceroiewed ott 0 saseple basis. The seseplittg was datteonthe basis of the numeofrael houss. Tbeerato to be iteroiewedcoasearrvedsattinthe flloiganer: ()one foe eey sighs farmersehouse, (2) acts foreversy sioteent parcels less shan thee acres in cisc, (3) otte foe every thirty-two share- coppee or squattess' shacks, ad (4) otte foe atty ashersixtly-laosr eual dweolles. Thisratioawaecinceeasedaerdecreased dilyecord- ittg to she ttusber of hoases 10 the aea being corkhed at. Those selected to be inst-erieed sapplied informtoeion ott all africultual prodactionsdurinsgthe paststweloecmothsoandothesoio-economsic probleses. Aboat six thouanetd interoicas woere takentchroughoat she islattd.  58 The Caribbean The first field team, under the direction of Donald Dyer, came to Puerto Rico in July, 1949, and did the detailed mapping of a cross-section traverse from the northern coast near Vega Baja to the southern coast near Ponce, in addition to fifteen small selected areas scattered all over the island, to try out the keys and to anticipate problems that might arise in the field. II. Field Work The area to be mapped was chosen when its main crop was still on the land. The students selected their areas on the basis of the themes that they had chosen for their individual dissertations. The team-chief selected his headquarters in the center of his area, so that he could become better acquainted with the people and the type of agriculture in the area. Each student, before starting work on his given area, made a reconnaissance trip around the island to become acquainted with its geographical features. As an aid to speed up the work in the field, the soil series, selected land use features, and other land characteristics were added to the aerial photographs. All of this basic data speeded the field work tremendously. A supervisor, John Lounsbury, was selected from among the first students, who finished mapping their areas, and was appointed assistant director of the project. He advised and checked the work of the other teams. The land use and the physical conditions were recorded on the photographs by a fractional notation, for example 12 1. The 1-5151 numerator of the fractional notation indicates the use of the land. The denominator indicates the characteristics of the land. The notation 172 refers to cultivated land. The first digit (1) of the fraction stands for crop land, the second digit (7) for bananas, and the third digit (2) for average quality. In general, the major category is represented by the first digit, the kind or type of land use by the second digit, and the quality by the third digit, respectively. The denominator recorded in our sample, 1-5151, would read as follows: The first digit (1) refers to the soil unit, followed by the degree of slope (5), condition of drainage (1), amount of 58 The Caribbean 58 The Caribbean The first field team, under the direction of Donald Dyer, came to Puerto Rico in July, 1949, and did the detailed mapping of a cross-section traverse from the northern coast near Vega Baja to the southern coast near Ponce, in addition to fifteen small selected areas scattered all over the island, to try out the keys and to anticipate problems that might arise in the field. II. Field Work The area to be mapped was chosen when its main crop was still on the land. The students selected their areas on the basis of the themes that they had chosen for their individual dissertations. The team-chief selected his headquarters in the center of his area, so that he could become better acquainted with the people and the type of agriculture in the area. Each student, before starting work on his given area, made a reconnaissance trip around the island to become acquainted with its geographical features. As an aid to speed up the work in the field, the soil series, selected land use features, and other land characteristics were added to the aerial photographs. All of this basic data speeded the field work tremendously. A supervisor, John Lounsbury, was selected from among the first students, who finished mapping their areas, and was appointed assistant director of the project. He advised and checked the work of the other teams. The land use and the physical conditions were recorded on the photographs by a fractional notation, for example 151. The numerator of the fractional notation indicates the use of the land. The denominator indicates the characteristics of the land. The notation 172 refers to cultivated land. The first digit (1) of the fraction stands for crop land, the second digit (7) for bananas, and the third digit (2) for average quality. In general, the major category is represented by the first digit, the kind or type of land use by the second digit, and the quality by the third digit, respectively. The denominator recorded in our sample, 1-5151, would read as follows: The first digit (1) refers to the soil unit, followed by the degree of slope (5), condition of drainage (1), amount of The first field team, under the direction of Donald Dyer, came to Puerto Rico in July, 1949, and did the detailed mapping of a cross-section traverse from the northern coast near Vega Baja to the southern coast near Ponce, in addition to fifteen small selected areas scattered all over the island, to try out the keys and to anticipate problems that might arise in the field. I. Field Work The area to be mapped was chosen when its main crop was still on the land. The students selected their areas on the basis of the themes that they had chosen for their individual dissertations. The team-chief selected his headquarters in the center of his area, so that he could become better acquainted with the people and the type of agriculture in the area. Each student, before starting work on his given area, made a reconnaissance trip around the island to become acquainted with its geographical features. As an aid to speed up the work in the field, the soil series, selected land use features, and other land characteristics were added to the aerial photographs. All of this basic data speeded the field work tremendously. A supervisor, John Lounsbury, was selected from among the first students, who finished mapping their areas, and was appointed assistant director of the project. He advised and checked the work of the other teams. The land use and the physical conditions were recorded on the photographs by a fractional notation, for example 1-515. The 15151 numerator of the fractional notation indicates the use of the land. The denominator indicates the characteristics of the land. The notation 172 refers to cultivated land. The first digit (1) of the fraction stands for crop land, the second digit (7) for bananas, and the third digit (2) for average quality. In general, the major category is represented by the first digit, the kind or type of land use by the second digit, and the quality by the third digit, respectively. The denominator recorded in our sample, 1-5151, would read as follows: The first digit (1) refers to the soil unit, followed by the degree of slope (5), condition of drainage (1), amount of  LAND 59 LAND 59 LAND erosion (5), and degree of stoniness (1). Any change within part of the notation means a change in the piece of land plotted. The numbers used to designate the items represented in the notation were selected from the keys of land use and land characteristics. Buildings and other structures were mapped with symbols. II. Land Use In Puerto Rico, land use is classified into the following eight major categories: cropped land, pasture and harvested forage grass, forest and brush land, non-productive land, rural public and community service land, urban and manufacturing land, quarrying and mining land, and miscellaneous land. These categories are described briefly as follows: Cropped Land.-Land in which produce is harvested for human consumption. This category is broken down into forty-three crops or combinations of crops. Pasture and Harvested Forage Grass.-Land devoted to the growth of grasses for animal consumption. This includes natural pasture, improved pasture, harvested forage grass, and others. This category is divided into eight classes. Forest and Brush Land.-All areas in trees, whether planted or part of the natural vegetation. This land also includes brush, which consists of trees below ten feet in height. Land considered as woodland pasture was mapped within class eight under the cate- gory of pasture and harvested forage grass. Non-Productive Land.-Land without any agricultural productive value. This land may or may not be suitable for some productive use, but at present it has no productive value. This category is divided into three classes. Rural Public and Community Service Land.-Indicates plots used for public and community services. Usually this land com- prises small tracts or plots that fall into seven classes. Quarrying and Mining Land.-Includes rock and mineral re- sources which are being removed from the land. Abandoned quar- ries and mines are included in non-productive land (category number four). Urban and Manufacturing Land.-Land in which cities and towns are located. It also includes tracts outside the urban area erosion (5), and degree of stoniness (1). Any change within part of the notation means a change in the piece of land plotted. The numbers used to designate the items represented in the notation were selected from the keys of land use and land characteristics. Buildings and other structures were mapped with symbols. III. Land Use In Puerto Rico, land use is classified into the following eight major categories: cropped land, pasture and harvested forage grass, forest and brush land, non-productive land, rural public and community service land, urban and manufacturing land, quarrying and mining land, and miscellaneous land. These categories are described briefly as follows: Cropped Land.-Land in which produce is harvested for human consumption. This category is broken down into forty-three crops or combinations of crops. Pasture and Harvested Forage Grass.-Land devoted to the growth of grasses for animal consumption. This includes natural pasture, improved pasture, harvested forage grass, and others. This category is divided into eight classes. Forest and Brush Land.-All areas in trees, whether planted or part of the natural vegetation. This land also includes brush, which consists of trees below ten feet in height. Land considered as woodland pasture was mapped within class eight under the cate- gory of pasture and harvested forage grass. Non-Productive Land.-Land without any agricultural productive value. This land may or may not be suitable for some productive use, but at present it has no productive value. This category is divided into three classes. Rural Public and Community Service Land.-Indicates plots used for public and community services. Usually this land com- prises small tracts or plots that fall into seven classes. Quarrying and Mining Land.-Includes rock and mineral re- sources which are being removed from the land. Abandoned quar- ries and mines are included in non-productive land (category number four). Urban and Manufacturing Land.-Land in which cities and towns are located. It also includes tracts outside the urban area eresion (5), and degree of stoniness (1). Any change within part of the notation means a change in the piece of land plotted. The numbers used to designate the items represented in the notation were selected from the keys of land use and land characteristics. Buildings and other structures were mapped with symbols. III. Land Use In Puerto Rico, land use is classified into the following eight major categories: cropped land, pasture and harvested forage grass, forest and brush land, non-productive land, rural public and community service land, urban and manufacturing land, quarrying and mining land, and miscellaneous land. These categories are described briefly as follows: Cropped Land.-Land in which produce is harvested for human consumption. This category is broken down into forty-three crops or combinations of crops. Pasture and Harvested Forage Crass.-Land devoted to the growth of grasses for animal consumption. This includes natural pasture, improved pasture, harvested forage grass, and others. This category is divided into eight classes. Forest and Brush Land.-All areas in trees, whether planted or part of the natural vegetation. This land also includes brush, which consists of trees below ten feet in height. Land considered as woodland pasture was mapped within class eight under the cate- gory of pasture and harvested forage grass. Non-Productive Land.-Land without any agricultural productive value. This land may or may not be suitable for some productive use, but at present it has no productive value. This category is divided into three classes. Rural Public and Community Service Land.-Indicates plots used for public and community services. Usually this land com- prises small tracts or plots that fall into seven classes. Quarrying and Mining Land.-Includes rock and mineral re- sources which are being removed from the land. Abandoned quar- ries and mines are included in non-productive land (category number four). Urban and Manufacturing Land.-Land in which cities and towns are located. It also includes tracts outside the urban area  60 The Caribbean devoted to ay moaoufactoriog activities. This catogory is divided ino seeoo ass Misellaneoos Land.-Featuses of food ose swhich do ot fall inato aoy of she obove-moeotiooed categoios. They ate recored on she fhold soap by meanos of letters, and ins some cases by numbers io additiona to lettecs. IVl. Physical Choeocteristics Tho physical characteistics moopped incelode she soil type, slope, draioage, erosioo, stoniness, aod oock exposuce. Thoy do oot eo- comopass all eleomeots of the natural orephysical envicoonoet. The matin interest seas moapping all imoportaot characteristics that offect the agricultoral photo and that coold be readily observed and moapped. Tbeochaacotics discossed appear in she order iodicated ins the deoitoiro of she fractiooal code systemo. Soils-to Poecto Rico shee ace 367 types of soils as moapped by the Uoited Stases Divisioo of Soil Surcey. These soil types weegrouped in 53categories basedonsoil siilaities. Slope-The degsee of slope seas associated seith the accessibility to the laod of agricoltoral msachionery to he osed anad seith chaeacter- istics of draioageand eosion. Oothistbasis the ladeosdiided into six closses, canging feom class ooe, sehich does not those asny erosion and coo make exteosive ose of farms machinery, to class six that eliomioates all colsivasioocoxceps by teeeacintg. This lotte classtischaacteized by asereroin Droinoge.-The draioage cooditioo iodicates bosh sarface caun- off aod iosterior draioage. Is cansges feom class ooe (seell drained), to class fiee (excessively deoioed). Erosio.-The erosion classificatiosn depeods 00 hose much of she soil hasbee emcoved. to geoeralthe classificatioo shosshoe muoch soil semoaios intshe laod. The eeoionoisclassifiedintoeeo groops, from rcectsalloialorcollosial depositstoeeyeee sheet erosion. Stooiness and Rock Exposure.-Coodition of rcks io she land, libe she other chacactecistics mteotioned, is somesehat associated seith sype ofsoil. Tbe classificatioo of stonioetsandockeposue sakes into consideration the problemo of hose seS she lad coold be coltivated seithoutsiotecfeeoce by each exposure. The conditiont 60 The Caribbean 60 The Caribbean devosed to any moanufactucing activities. This category is divided isnto seeno classes. Miscesllasseous Land.-eatuses of land ate sehich do cot fall into aoy of the abose-msentioned casegories. They ace recorded 00 she field map by meaoos of lessees, anad in somse cases by snumbers its additiona to l~etr. IV. Physical Characteriotics The physical charcteristics mapped isaclade the soil types slope, drainage, erosion, stonioess, and each exposuse. They do ot eo- compass all elements of she nturaal orephysical environment. The manitrse at mapping all imspoetant characteristics shot affect the agicltucal phase and shot could be ceadily obsereed and mapped. Tbe characteristics discussed appeac in she oedee indicosed ina Use denomtinator of she feactional code system. Soils-to Puerto Rico shere ace 367 types of toils as mopped by the liied States Division of Soil Sorvey. These soil types weegrouped in53 categories based onoil similaitie. Slope-The degsee of slope seas associated seith she accessibility so she land of agricultural machionery so be used oad seith charactec- istics of dcaiage and erosion. Oa this hashs she land seas divided ino six classes, raoging feom class onec, sehich does ot those any eeosion and coo make extensive ate of farm machionery, to clots sic that eliminates oil cultivationaexcept by teceaciog. This lattercclasstiscaacteioed by aseere eoin Deainage.-The draioage condition iodicases bosh toolface coo- off and iteioredinage. Itseanges from classooe(eell dained), to clots flee (excessisely deained). Eosio.-The eosion classification depeods 00 hose much of the toil hot bcea semoved. In general the classification shos hose muchtsodleemains inthe land. The erosionoisclasified io seen groups, feom eecet alluvial orcolluvial depoststtoeyseee sheet cromion. Stoniness and Rock Exposurec-Codiios of cocks ina she land, like she asherc charceristics mentioned, is somesehas associated seith sype oftsoil. The classificationaoftoninesstandockeposue takes ino consideration she problem of hose weS she lad could be cahicvatedseithout itefeence byerock eposurte. Theecooditioo devoted to aoy manufacturing acisiies. This category is divided ino seven classes. Miscellanous Lad.-eaaes of land ate sehich do ot fall intoany ofte aoe-menioed ctegoie. They arecrecordedoa the fieldomapby meanstoflettees, andinsome caes bysnumbers so additioo to lettees. IV. Physical Chaeacteristica Tho physical charcteristics mapped ioclude the toil type, slope, deainage, erosion, stooiness, and each exposare. They do aol ent- compose all elements of Use atuaralorphysical eniooment. The masn interest seas mapping all impoetant charceristics that affect the agricultural phase and shot could be readily observed aod mapped. The charceissics discassed appear in she order iodicased in she denomiatoe of she feactioool code system. Soils-to Puerto Rico there ace 367 types of soils as mapped by Use Uiied States Division of Soil Sueeey. These toil types weeegroupedin53 caegoiestbaed onoilhsiilaitie. Slope-The degsee of slope wsea associated seith she accessibility to the land of agricultual machinery to ho used anad seith charactee- istics of deainage and erosioa. On this baths she land wsea divided ino six classes, rangiog feom class one, sehich does ot those any erosion anad coo make extensie ass of farm machiey, so class six that eliminotes all cultivationoexcept by tecraciog. This lasstee class it charcterized by a seeeeroin Draioage-The draioage coodisioc indicases both sueface coo- off and iteioredainage. Iteoanges feamclass oe (seell draioed), to classivee (excessively drained). Eeosion.-The eoionclasiication depends 00 hose much of she soilbhas beeceemoed. Inogeneral theclasifiaionoshoshoe mach soileremaios inthe land. The erosionoisclasifiedintoteen group, fromerecentsalluail orcolluvial deposits toeyseee sheet ermsion. Stociness asd Rock Exposure.-Condition of cocks in Use land, like she osher charceeistics mensioned, is somesehat associated seith type ofsod. The classificationof stoninessandeockeposetaes ino consideration the problem of hose seell the land could he cultivated seishoat inteefeece by each exposuee. The condisiost  LAND LD61 LAND 61 LAND of rck expotoce it sebdivided into eight closses, canging fcons no stone on cock oetcrop which would interfere weith culivion, to senerecrock eopeoue,tnhich pceentsncultieation. In thelasifi- notion of rck eopotuce, aftee tho digit identifying the aont of sock exposuee, twoo additional numbers, one pinned aove the other, oppeoereocasiooally. Tbe uopper nousbee indicats the clots of ston- mness and the lowcee noumher the clen of cock exosue. In general, the phytinel conditions maepped one niosely celeted so the type of sodl, hot wcithin those types of toil shone ace sob- stontial vaocions shot con be maopped. These eoriotions seggest potentiol diffeences wnithin toil types thot are bosic to a o m mecndedlandouse program forthe island. V. Uoing the Dato Collected The doto gotheced in the field constisete one of the tot cons- plete inventocies on land use ever done in Perto Rico ocrelsewhere. It glees o cleoc pintece of the lond ue ond the poeneielities of one toils as suitcd fee celiateosn. Thece is no doeht shot this inventocy is en essensial bosis foe any egcicultueal oc peblicseic programe, and foe ail types of cural planning throughout the island. It stcikingly iodicotes prohleme areas in need of specific ettention. Sincc the field weorh started, a toed use seep, at a scale of 1:,000fiif, hot keen in pcepaeetion. This maep is heing pcepeced on dycite peper, wchich is scenspaeee ond suited for oealic copies. It showcs, besides she lend ue oil beildiegs end strecteres, civers and coeds. Professoe Edwared B. Espenshede, en epers ceesog- caphe, else frose Northwestern Univenisy, sees ery helpfel wish seggessionstso imeproe she presentation of she heeal lend utseemps. To ebtoin the apprepciate stetisticel dote, one ot of evecy twenty-fiee acees of laed bet been intensiely stedied in she office. The infocseation hot been soheleted on IBM coeds. The qeessien- naoices filled net in the fields ae ekeo being tebelesed en IBM needs. This infocseetion, soeohec with she lend use seep, wcill help to portrey the cural probles of she island as a wehoe, es well as by cegions. As preentt,ec ecommsendedilandeusepograseisheigeoed net. Specific landtese rccenedtinsswill beseede, bsedeon the potentielities of the laed. All toil types are going to be of cock exposuce is sebdivided into eight closses, ceatging frose no stone en rock outcrop which woueld interfere with culivatoion, so seeeerck exposuee, whihpeesclivain. In the clnifi- notion of cock eposere, aftec she digit identifying she aouent of cock exposere, two additional numbers, one pieced aboe she oshec, oppear onnasionelly. Tbe upper neseber indiceses the clots of ston- ins and the loere neumbec the clon of cock exposure. In generel, the physicel conditions seapped ae closely releted to she type of soft, bet within those types of soil shece ae sob- stontiol veciotiens shot cen be seopped. Tbee veriations suggest posensial differwnces wnishie soil types thes ae besic to arcm seeded lend owe pcograms for she islend. V. Usiog the Dose Collected The daso gethered in she field conssisute one of she seost cem- pile invensories on lend ue eer done in Pertso Rice orelsewnhcr. Is glees a ncecr pinsuce of she lend ue end she poetielisies of one toils os seited fee celsivasion. Tbhere iseno deebt shot skis inventory is en essential bosis fee eny agcicultucel en public sereice programe, end for all types of ceral planning throughoet she isleed. It strikingly indicates pcoblem ocreas in need of specific astentien. Since she field seock started, a lend ue seep, et a scele of lO1,00, bas been in prepecesion. This seep is being prepered en dycite paer, wchich is srenspaente ond toiled foe exelic cepics. Itsthesws, besides she bend ue oil beildings end strectues, civers and coeds. Pcoecsscr Edwerd B. Espeeshede, en copedt certog- caphec, olse froms Nocsbsestern Univecstiy, sees nosy helpfl wteih suggestiens to imprcoe the prcesetaion of she Beetl lend uecseeps. To ebsein she appcopiete stesissicel deco, one out of every twenty-five eacres of lend bet been intensively stedied in she office. The informaesion hes been tabulesed en IBM ncds. The quession- neirws filled net in she fields one else being tebulased en IBM needs. This inforseation, togcther with she lend ue seep, wnill help so portcey she recal proemss of the islend es a whole, as well a by regions. As prcsent, a cecosended lend ue progream is being wnocked net. Sipecific landuseeecomsendetionsseilbesmade,hesedons thc potentiolities of she land. All soil types are going so be of rck eposure is subdieided into eight nlasses, ronging icons no stone oc cock outccep wchich seould insecrfece with cultieation, so scevere cock enposece, which peentss culitoion. In she classifi- cosin of cock exposece, afsec she digit identifying she eamount of rck exposere, twco edditional nuers, one pieced eboe the othe, appeac occesionelly. Tbe ueppec neumhec indicetes she cless of ston- soons ond she loer nuseber she clon of cock enpesere. In generel, she physical conditions seopped ae closely celesed to she type of soil, bet within those types of soil shone are sob- stonsiol veriasions shas coo be maopped. Tbee veciations suggest poetiel diffeences within toil types shot ae basic so a ecm seeded lend usepograme forctheisland. V. Using the Dose Cellected The dose goshered in she field coossisuse one of she tot cese- plote inventocies on lend ue eer done in Perto Rice or elsewhere. Is gies e cleor pictsere of she lend ue end she poetieliies of our toils es suited for celticotion. Thcrc is no doubs shot this inentocy is en esscestiel bosis fee any egricelsurol cc public tseice programe, and foe ell types of cucal plenning throghost she islend. Is stcikingly indineses premon arees in need of specific aentco. Sincetheofild wock started,lndouseep,ateasecef 1:i10,000, hes been in preperatien. This seep is being pcepered on dycite pepec, which is sransperens and seited fee exelic copies. It shows, besides she lend ow, oil buildings end strctes s, rvr and coeds. Professor Edseecd B. Espenshede, en epertcectog- caphe, else fcom Northwsetecn Uniersity, sees ery helpful wish suggestions so imeprove she pesentetion of she kinob lend usesmeps. To obtein the eppopie stesisticel dose, one ens of every twenty-flee ecres of lend bet been intensiely stedicd in she office. The infecmton boo been tobelesed n IBM coeds. The qeession- naires filled net in the fields are olso being sabelaed en IBM cds. This informaetion, segesher wish she lend ue seop, seill help to portrey she rurali proemss of she ilalnd es a whole, as well a by cegions. At pretent, a cecomeneeded lend owe programs is being weorked net. Sipecific lendowsercomnss detios willhbemae,heased on thc potentiliics of the land. All toil types one going to be  62 The Caribbean grouped according to their productivity and farm management. This will show certain management classes for which farm man- agement plans will be made so that they will serve as models for the rest of the farms in each class. There is the possibility of working out a rural zoning map, once the recommended use is determined. This zoning map, likewise, may seer as the basis for the location of public services and industrial developments. The list of the participants and their thesis subjects is given in the appendix with a note as to the status of their academic work. They certainly are a valuable set of reference material on the conditions and possibilities of agriculture in Puerto Rico. As many of the students' dissertations as possible will be published and all feasible recommendations will be taken into account in the proposed land use program. A very important by-product of this survey was the spirit of cooperation it generated among continental students, Puerto Rican interviewers, public officials, professors who supervised the work, farmers, and the public at large who cooperated with the field teams, cheerfully supplying information. Each contributor to the survey supplied his knowledge or experience, often obtained in places very far from Puerto Rico; all contributed to a worthy cause with good will and a cooperative spirit. The graduate students had the opportunity to do field work with all expenses paid, in a tropical island with a rich geographical environment. As a result of their labor, the island has a very accurate land use survey that would have cost much more if done with regular employees. This cooperative procedure, which can facilitate mapping of underde- veloped areas, merits study and application in other lands. 62 The Caribbean 62 The Caribbean grouped according to their productivity and farm management. This will show certain management classes for which farm man- agement plans will be made so that they will serve as models for the rest of the farms in each class. There is the possibility of working out a rural zoning map, once the recommended use is determined. This zoning map, likewise, may serve as the basis for the location of public services and industrial developments. The list of the participants and their thesis subjects is given in the appendix with a note as to the status of their academic work. They certainly are a valuable set of reference material on the conditions and possibilities of agriculture in Puerto Rico. As many of the students' dissertations as possible will be published and all feasible recommendations will be taken into account in the proposed land use program. A very important by-product of this survey was the spirit of cooperation it generated among continental students, Puerto Rican interviewers, public officials, professors who supervised the work, farmers, and the public at large who cooperated with the field teams, cheerfully supplying information. Each contributor to the survey supplied his knowledge or experience, often obtained in places very far from Puerto Rico; all contributed to a worthy cause with good will and a cooperative spirit. The graduate students had the opportunity to do field work with all expenses paid, in a tropical island with a rich geographical environment. As a result of their labor, the island has a very accurate land use survey that would have cost much more if done with regular employees. This cooperative procedure, which can facilitate mapping of underde- veloped areas, merits study and application in other lands. grouped according to their productivity and farm management. This will show certain management classes for which farm man- agement plans will be made so that they will serve as models for the rest of the farms in each class. There is the possibility of working out a rural zoning map, once the recommended use is determined. This zoning map, likewise, may serve as the basis for the location of public services and industrial developments. The list of the participants and their thesis subjects is given in the appendix with a note as to the status of their academic work. They certainly are a valuable set of reference material on the conditions and possibilities of agriculture in Puerto Rico. As many of the students' dissertations as possible will be published and all feasible recommendations will be taken into account in the proposed land use program. A very important by-product of this survey was the spirit of cooperation it generated among continental students, Puerto Rican interviewers, public officials, professors who supervised the work, farmers, and the public at large who cooperated with the field teams, cheerfully supplying information. Each contributor to the survey supplied his knowledge or experience, often obtained in places very far from Puerto Rico; all contributed to a worthy cause with good will and a cooperative spirit. The graduate students had the opportunity to do field work with all expenses paid, in a tropical island with a rich geographical environment. As a result of their labor, the island has a very accurate land use survey that would have cost much more if done with regular employees. This cooperative procedure, which can facilitate mapping of underde- veloped areas, merits study and application in other lands.  LAND LD63 LAND 63 LAND APPENDIX STATUS OP DOCTORAL DISSERTATIONS AND SPECIAL STUDIES I. Ph.D. Theses Comtpleted: Donld R1. Dyer, "The DeveIlopmentt of Go.graphic Sur,.ey Techniques, wsenUniverity, 1930. Vernon. W. Brockmantt, "Physicl Lantd Types antd Lantd Utiliatkon in the Caguas-SBat Lorenzot Regions of Puero Bk.," Northwtern,, Uni- versity, 1950. Robhrt B. Batchelde, "Subhhtm.id PIaint of Nrhwetert Puerno Rim:. Economiy 1951. , otwetr Uiesty 91 John . LunWith, "ra Selttlemnth Phtures attdTnttdt Asscithon VNgtrBnjit," ithster U1."nvers~tt ~kity, 195 2. LAtthur H. oerrth , "A Relati-onsgthip t Btf d Huma Atthes in, Soth, 1952., 151 David N ttley, t "Lan MUit the 1952. ltiso YuoGa Dallac . CAkn, "Th Dairtgnduphy of the PNoth Ctt at of Puernto Rico:~l LA Std "A Crial.tir ttgdy NorPttweBte," Uversity 15. 1952.t o isosi,192 APPENDIX STATUS OP DOCTORAL DISSERTATIONS AND SPECIAL STUDIES I. Ph.D. Theses Comtplettd: Dona.ld R1. Dyet, "The Devltpmen.t of Go.gratphic BSurvey Techtiques wtern,. Uttversity, 1950. Vterttn W. Btttck.man, "Physical Lattd Types antd Latnd Utilization int t.,tsity, 1959. Rtthert B. Btcthelde, "Sbhumtid Plai. of Ntttthwtett Pueto Bk.: A',Stuy 1951. LndUiiaio, otwstr nvrst, 91 Dttoid R.y "Lt,d " tliTthtte h Magua(Petotim):t A S..udy in.Fa- Rkonom AnStttysist, k~ DotheteriUneritt, tth.t. ~tt~ty, 192 BJohn L. Llsb, "rattli Setlmth Phytures Lad Tytei Assdc.athon tticltral Wiconoies 1952. unaCmei, ooal Larjt,"W rthwest~tern"CivetU,i 195. 152 Lttthut H. Doeri,hf. "A Reltions~thip o ttd Huma Athvtie in.. PSou1. ve952,.151 Wttalldc . tAkPin, "Th Cttl, Idttry of th, North Cttast tt9 Pueto 1ico:," tud~~iy in Mroigttl 1952, otwetr Uiesty 92 VegitBia, 952. oRm" otwstr niesty 92 oberg A. Younltg, "Thte Clific,,tion of at dt CForits int Puett Rim," 1952. APPENDIX STATUS OP DOCTORAL DISSERTATIONS AND SPECIAL STUDIES I. Ph.D. Theses Comtpleted: w tenUttverity, 1950. Vtrnon W. Brochtkman, "Physicatl Lattd Types tttd Lattd Ut~i.litni verity, 1952. Robed NB.y Btelder "utihumtid. int tht Mthesteri, Pur1 Rim:,Ct i,A Stdy it Tiral tliin," Nrthetern~t Uivetsity, 195. Barold L. WImut, "ATte aytiguez tra Pyero Lico)d TyA Std in Farm EconoBmyj Aais," P Nrthwestern Nnivhrit, 19.ktty192 Lato," NorWthwe ternt Un., ivehrs ..ity, 1952 Lttthur H. Doerhrt, "A Relaiongshi o tf d Huma Athiviti Poth- wternPertoRithto tihetSemiP-.ArClma" Urtheste.9hkni- 1952., 151 Daid N,"y "L.aty UtiliWiohingtthe 1952. liis fYam G yantll, Gunett al.ti, and d Peula f Pttt ico," Syracuse, y 15. CtafioA Baithltt, "Tha Alta,, Toa Bajat~, orat, Vg lta, Chattd 1952. t o isosi,192  64 The Caribbean Richard L. Latn "Ae Study inNorthar Pueto Rico A Study inHistorica Develpment," Syaus Univerity, 1952. Stheater Pueto Rico," Univerity of Nersa 1952. III. Specia Studies: an rcvsi eta uroRc, nvriyo uih 1952. Willim W. Burchfiel, "The Geography of the Pineapple Industry of Pueto Rim," University of Maryan, 1952. 64 The Caribbean Richad L. Latn "Area Study inNortheatern Pueto Rico: A Study iHistricl Develpmn," Syacs Univerity, 1952. Sotheastr Puer Rico," Universty of Nersa 1952. William, W. Burchfiel, "The Geography of the Pineapple Industry of Puert Ric," Universty of Mayad 1952. 64 The Caribbean inHitorkia Deomn, Syacs Univerity, 1952. Soteatr Pueto Rico," UnTiversty of Nersa 1952. andnOrcii C ntralPueroRic," Univrstyof Zurih, 1952. Willim W. Burchfie, "The Gegraphy of the Pinepple Industry of  Part III Part III Part III TRADE TRADE TRADE   7 Francisco Aguirre: THE CARIBBEAN: HEART OF THE AMERICAS AND CENTER OF WORLD TRANSPORTATION I SHOULD LIKE to precede my brief exposition on transportation in the Caribbean with a tribute to the magnificent contribution which the University of Florida is making to inter-American understanding by sponsoring these discussions on the Caribbean area. The exchange of ideas which is taking place here cannot but strengthen the spiritual union of all Americans through the dispas- sionate and continuing study of the complex factors which influence the development of the Caribbean-an area which, in many respects, may be regarded as the heart of the Americas. I am honored and gratified beyond words to find myself in this mansion of learning, which so successfully fulfills the mission of the modern university by stimulating the study, without limitation, of all that lies within the scope of human intelligence. In touching upon the problems of the Caribbean area, this famed University is playing a very important part in bringing the peoples of the Caribbean and of the United States closer together. By the same token, it is playing a very important part in bringing about that singleminded and supreme identification of all Americans which some day will be the greatest glory of our hemisphere. There could be no more appropriate place than this University for a discussion of the problems of the Caribbean and their rela- tion to the rest of the world. Faithful to the traditions of Florida, this University nurtures the memories of a far-off yesterday by carefully cultivating friendship with Latin America through special- 67 7 7 Francisco Aguirre: THE CARIBBEAN: HEART OF THE AMERICAS AND CENTER OF WORLD TRANSPORTATION I SHOULD LIKE to precede my brief exposition on transportation in the Caribbean with a tribute to the magnificent contribution which the University of Florida is making to inter-American understanding by sponsoring these discussions on the Caribbean area. The exchange of ideas which is taking place here cannot but strengthen the spiritual union of all Americans through the dispas- sionate and continuing study of the complex factors which influence the development of the Caribbean-an area which, in many respects, may be regarded as the heart of the Americas. I am honored and gratified beyond words to find myself in this mansion of learning, which so successfully fulfills the mission of the modern university by stimulating the study, without limitation, of all that lies within the scope of human intelligence. In touching upon the problems of the Caribbean area, this famed University is playing a very important part in bringing the peoples of the Caribbean and of the United States closer together. By the same token, it is playing a very important part in bringing about that singleminded and supreme identification of all Americans which some day will be the greatest glory of our hemisphere. There could be no more appropriate place than this University for a discussion of the problems of the Caribbean and their rela- tion to the rest of the world. Faithful to the traditions of Florida, this University nurtures the memories of a far-off yesterday by carefully cultivating friendship with Latin America through special- 67 Francisco Aguirre: THE CARIBBEAN: HEART OF THE AMERICAS AND CENTER OF WORLD TRANSPORTATION I SHOULD LIKE to precede my brief exposition on transportation in the Caribbean with a tribute to the magnificent contribution which the University of Florida is making to inter-American understanding by sponsoring these discussions on the Caribbean area. The exchange of ideas which is taking place here cannot but strengthen the spiritual union of all Americans through the dispas- sionate and continuing study of the complex factors which influence the development of the Caribbean-an area which, in many respects, may be regarded as the heart of the Americas. I am honored and gratified beyond words to find myself in this mansion of learning, which so successfully fulfills the mission of the modern university by stimulating the study, without limitation, of all that lies within the scope of human intelligence. In touching upon the problems of the Caribbean area, this famed University is playing a very important part in bringing the peoples of the Caribbean and of the United States closer together. By the same token, it is playing a very important part in bringing about that singleminded and supreme identification of all Americans which some day will be the greatest glory of our hemisphere. There could be no more appropriate place than this University for a discussion of the problems of the Caribbean and their rela- tion to the rest of the world. Faithful to the traditions of Florida, this Univesity nurtures the memories of a far-off yesterday by carefully cultivating friendship with Latin America through special-  68 The Caribbean ized studies, such as those which the learned Professor A. Curtis Wilgus directs with such skill. History binds Florida to Spanish America, and geography makes her sister to the nations of the Caribbean. In the days when the sea was the only medium of international transit, Ponce de Letn and other illustrious figures converted Florida into a rampart of defense for Spanish conquests of the New World. Today, in the miraculous air age of the twentieth century, it falls to this uniquely beautiful peninsula to be a keystone of transoceanic air travel. There is still much room for progress in air transportation be- tween the United States and the Caribbean countries, if we con- sider that the unlimited sympathy which exists between the peoples of those countries and the people of Florida has not as yet been exploited to the fullest. A common heritage and common ancestry must, for the present, constitute the best bridge of union among all the American peoples. But the University of Florida, with all its academic prestige and progressive tradition, is speeding the day when all Americans will be bound by a common present destiny, as well as by the rich heritage of the past; and little by little, trade in a more material sense will bring about a definite alliance of Florida and the Latin American countries through the Caribbean. The Caribbean area embraces the American republics extending along the mainland frem Mexico to Venezuela and the group of republics and dependencies which constitute the Antilles. Its geographical position gives it an extraordinary and immeasurable importance in inter-American transportation and world transpor- tation. I would prefer, within the limits of this brief discussion, to touch but lightly on the role of the airplane in Caribbean transportation. Air transportation is an established part of Caribbean communica- tions and frequently, because of its ability to surmount topograph- ical obstacles which impede land routes, is the only means of transportation between one region and another. But the establish- ment of air routes, once international agreements have been reached and official approvals extended, is a comparatively simple matter 68 The Caribbean 68 The Caribbean ized studies, such as those which the learned Professor A. Curtis Wilgus directs with such skill. History binds Florida to Spanish America, and geography makes her sister to the nations of the Caribbean. In the days when the sea was the only medium of international transit, Ponce de Ledn and other illustrious figures converted Florida into a rampart of defense for Spanish conquests of the New World. Today, in the miraculous air age of the twentieth century, it falls to this uniquely beautiful peninsula to be a keystone of transoceanic air travel. There is still much room for progress in air transportation be- tween the United States and the Caribbean countries, if we con- sider that the unlimited sympathy which exists between the peoples of those countries and the people of Florida has not as yet been exploited to the fullest. A common heritage and common ancestry must, for the present, constitute the best bridge of union among all the American peoples. But the University of Florida, with all its academic prestige and progressive tradition, is speeding the day when all Americans will be bound by a common present destiny, as well as by the rich heritage of the past; and little by little, trade in a more material sense will bring about a definite alliance of Florida and the Latin American countries through the Caribbean. The Caribbean area embraces the American republics extending along the mainland from Mexico to Venezuela and the group of republics and dependencies which constitute the Antilles. Its geographical position gives it an extraordinary and immeasurable importance in inter-American transportation and world transpor- tation. I would prefer, within the limits of this brief discussion, to touch but lightly on the role of the airplane in Caribbean transportation. Air transportation is an established part of Caribbean communica- tions and frequently, because of its ability to surmount topograph- ical obstacles which impede land routes, is the only means of transportation between one region and another. But the establish- ment of air routes, once international agreements have been reached and official approvals extended, is a comparatively simple matter ized studies, such as those which the learned Professor A. Curtis Wilgus directs with such skill. History binds Florida to Spanish America, and geography makes her sister to the nations of the Caribbean. In the days when the sea was the only medium of international transit, Ponce de Ledn and other illustrious figures converted Florida into a rampart of defense for Spanish conquests of the New World. Today, in the miraculous air age of the twentieth century, it falls to this uniquely beautiful peninsula to be a keystone of transoceanic air travel. There is still much room for progress in air transportation be- tween the United States and the Caribbean countries, if we con- sider that the unlimited sympathy which exists between the peoples of those countries and the people of Florida has not as yet been exploited to the fullest. A common heritage and common ancestry must, for the present, constitute the best bridge of union among all the American peoples. But the University of Florida, with all its academic prestige and progressive tradition, is speeding the day when all Americans will be bound by a common present destiny, as well as by the rich heritage of the past; and little by little, trade in a more material sense will bring about a definite alliance of Florida and the Latin American countries through the Caribbean. The Caribbean area embraces the American republics extending along the mainland from Mexico to Venezuela and the group of republics and dependencies which constitute the Antilles. Its geographical position gives it an extraordinary and immeasurable importance in inter-American transportation and world transpor- tation. I would prefer, within the limits of this brief discussion, to touch but lightly on the role of the airplane in Caribbean transportation. Air transportation is an established part of Caribbean communica- tions and frequently, because of its ability to surmount topograph- ical obstacles which impede land routes, is the only means of transportation between one region and another. But the establish- ment of air routes, once international agreements have been reached and official approvals extended, is a comparatively simple matter  TRADE 69 TRADE 69 TRADE from the physical and economic standpoints. Within the brief time allotted to me, I would prefer to stress land and sea transpor- tation in the Caribbean and, in particular, the Pan American Highway and Panama Canal as all-important factors in the present and future evolution of Caribbean transportation. These are topics which have a singular personal and professional interest for me. Personal, because I am a native of one of the Central American republics which may be considered to lie within the Caribbean area. Professional, because as secretary of the Pan American Division of the American Road Builders' Association it has been my task, and the task of our many colleagues and supporters, to encourage and stimulate the construction of a hem- isphere network of highways which would serve as a positive and undeniably valuable factor in the unification of the Americas, with the Pan American Highway as a nucleus. For twenty-five years our Pan American Division has labored toward this objective under the slogan of La Unidad del Continente por el esfuerzo constructivo de los ingenieros-"Hemisphere Unity through the Constructive Efforts of Engineers." The Pan American Highway contains a segment, running from the southern border of Mexico to the Isthmus of Panama, which is called the Inter-American Highway. The chief difference be- tween this segment and others which form part of the Pan American Highway lies in the method of financing. The keen interest of the United States in an overland link with the Panama Canal and the limited financial resources of the Central American republics and Panama led, in 1942, to an agreement between this country and Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, El Salvador, and Panama whereby construction of the Inter- American Highway would be financed by a two-thirds contribution by the United States and a one-third contribution by each of the other countries in connection with its respective section of the highway. At the present time, except for a few short segments which await completion, an overland route exists in the mainland Caribbean countries and countries bordering on the Caribbean area, as follows: from the physical and economic standpoints. Within the brief time allotted to me, I would prefer to stress land and sea transpor- tation in the Caribbean and, in particular, the Pan American Highway and Panama Canal as all-important factors in the present and future evolution of Caribbean transportation. These are topics which have a singular personal and professional interest for me. Personal, because I am a native of one of the Central American republics which may be considered to lie within the Caribbean area. Professional, because as secretary of the Pan American Division of the American Road Builders' Association it has been my task, and the task of our many colleagues and supporters, to encourage and stimulate the construction of a hem- isphere network of highways which would serve as a positive and undeniably valuable factor in the unification of the Americas, with the Pan American Highway as a nucleus. For twenty-five years our Pan American Division has labored toward this objective under the slogan of La Unidad del Continente por el esfuerzo constructivo de los ingenieros-"Hemisphere Unity through the Constructive Efforts of Engineers." The Pan American Highway contains a segment, running from the southern border of Mexico to the Isthmus of Panama, which is called the Inter-American Highway. The chief difference be- tween this segment and others which form part of the Pan American Highway lies in the method of financing. The keen interest of the United States in an overland link with the Panama Canal and the limited financial resources of the Central American republics and Panama led, in 1942, to an agreement between this country and Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, El Salvador, and Panama whereby construction of the Inter- American Highway would be financed by a two-thirds contribution by the United States and a one-third contribution by each of the other countries in connection with its respective section of the highway. At the present time, except for a few short segments which await completion, an overland route exists in the mainland Caribbean countries and countries bordering on the Caribbean area, as follows: frm the physical and economic standpoints. Within the brief time allotted to me, I would prefer to stress land and sea transpor- tation in the Caribbean and, in particular, the Pan American Highway and Panama Canal as all-important factors in the present and future evolution of Caribbean transportation. These are topics which have a singular personal and professional interest for me. Personal, because I am a native of one of the Central American republics which may be considered to lie within the Caribbean area. Professional, because as secretary of the Pan American Division of the American Road Builders' Association it has been my task, and the task of our many colleagues and supporters, to encourage and stimulate the construction of a hem- isphere network of highways which would serve as a positive and undeniably valuable factor in the unification of the Americas, with the Pan American Highway as a nucleus. For twenty-five years our Pan American Division has labored toward this objective under the slogan of La Unidad del Continente por el esfuerzo constructivo de los ingenieros-"Hemisphere Unity though the Constructive Efforts of Engineers." The Pan American Highway contains a segment, running from the southern border of Mexico to the Isthmus of Panama, which is called the Inter-American Highway. The chief difference be- tween this segment and others which form part of the Pan American Highway lies in the method of financing. The keen interest of the United States in an overland link with the Panama Canal and the limited financial resources of the Central American republics and Panama led, in 1942, to an agreement between this country and Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, El Salvador, and Panama whereby construction of the Inter- American Highway would be financed by a two-thirds contribution by the United States and a one-third contribution by each of the other countries in connection with its respective section of the highway. At the present time, except for a few short segments which await completion, an overland route exists in the mainland Caribbean countries and countries bordering on the Caribbean area, as follows:  Total Distance in Miles M exico ...................................-- 1625 Guatemala ...........................- 317 El Salvador ............................_ 191 Honduras ................... .............. 94 Nicaragua .....--- ................... 238 Costa Rica ... i.......... ... ......... 413 Panama ..........- .-...-- .. 316 Colombia .........n-........-.. . . 1947 Venezuela .....-...... ................. 736 The Caribbean Impassable Mileage 25 241 14 The Congess of the United States has already authorized a new appropriation of $7,000,000 which is being employed in renewed construction of the highway in the Central American countries and Panama, under the cooperative arrangement with the United States to which I have referred. It is estimated that another $85,000,000 will be necessary to complete the connection between the Panama Canal and the southern border of Mexico. Thereafter, it will be necessary to complete approximately 300 miles of highway across Darien, lying between Panama and Colombia, before a union of the highways of North America and South America can become a reality. Because of topography and dense jungle obstacles, the Darien highway project will be one of the most difficult engineering ventures in the history of the Western Hemisphere. Besides linking the great cities of America, it will be the role of the Pan American Highway, as has been pointed out, to serve as the nucleus for transportation systems in the various American countries. To it falls the gigantic task of opening up new areas for development in our hemisphere, of serving as a vital link in the network of international land, sea, and air transportation which binds the American peoples with one another and with the rest of the world, and of serving the cause of New World unification. To neglect the Pan American Highway is to ignore a concept of supreme importance to the political, spiritual, and material well-being of our entire Continent, and of particular importance to the Caribbean area. II This concept of the Pan American Highway is matched by but one other-that of the Panama Canal-in the development of 70 The Caribbean Total Distance in Miles Impassable Mileage Mexico ...................................... 1625 - Guatemala .................................... 317 25 El Salvador .. .. . 191 - Honduras ................................... 94 - Nicaragua .................................... 238 - Costa Rica .................................. 413 241 Panama ....................................... 316 14 Colombia .................................... 1947 - Venezuela ................................ 736 - The Congress of the United States has already authorized a new appropriation of $7,000,000 which is being employed in renewed construction of the highway in the Central American countries and Panama, under the cooperative arrangement with the United States to which I have referred. It is estimated that another $85,000,000 will be necessary to complete the connection between the Panama Canal and the southern border of Mexico. Thereafter, it will be necessary to complete approximately 300 miles of highway across Darien, lying between Panama and Colombia, before a union of the highways of North America and South America can become a reality. Because of topography and dense jungle obstacles, the Darien highway project will be one of the most difficult engineering ventures in the history of the Western Hemisphere. Besides linking the great cities of America, it will be the role of the Pan American Highway, as has been pointed out, to serve as the nucleus for transportation systems in the various American countries. To it falls the gigantic task of opening up new areas for development in our hemisphere, of serving as a vital link in the network of international land, sea, and air transportation which binds the American peoples with one another and with the rest of the world, and of serving the cause of New World unification. To neglect the Pan American Highway is to ignore a concept of supreme importance to the political, spiritual, and material well-being of our entire Continent, and of particular importance to the Caribbean area. II This concept of the Pan American Highway is matched by but one other-that of the Panama Canal-in the development of 70 The Caribbean Total Distance in Miles Impassable Mileage Mexico ............--...... . 1625 - Guatemala ...........-...................... 317 25 El Salvador ...................... 191 - Honduras ............_..................... 94 - Nicaragua ..... ..- ............... 238 - Costa Rica ................................. 413 241 Panama ..... 316 14 Colombia ..-.................-........ 1947 - Venezuela .................................... 736 - The Congress of the United States has already authorized a new appropriation of $7,000,000 which is being employed in renewed construction of the highway in the Central American countries and Panama, under the cooperative arrangement with the United States to which I have refered. It is estimated that another $85,000,000 will be necessary to complete the connection between the Panama Canal and the southern border of Mexico. Thereafter, it will be necessary to complete approximately 300 miles of highway across Darien, lying between Panama and Colombia, before a union of the highways of North America and South America can become a reality. Because of topography and dense jungle obstacles, the Darien highway project will be one of the most difficult engineering ventures in the history of the Western Hemisphere. Besides linking the great cities of America, it will be the role of the Pan American Highway, as has been pointed out, to serve as the nucleus for transportation systems in the various American countries. To it falls the gigantic task of opening up new areas for development in our hemisphere, of serving as a vital link in the network of international land, sea, and air transportation which binds the American peoples with one another and with the rest of the world, and of serving the cause of New World unification. To neglect the Pan American Highway is to ignore a concept of supreme importance to the political, spiritual, and material well-being of our entire Continent, and of particular importance to the Caribbean ama. II This concept of the Pan American Highway is matched by but one other-that of the Panama Canal-in the development of  TRADE 71 Caribbean and Western Hemisphere transportation. It was the Panama Canal which converted the Caribbean, heart of the Ameri- can continent, into a center of world transportation. There have been few endeavors in the history of mankind which have been so productive of good for all men. The opening of the Panama Canal gave a mighty forward thrust to the commerce of the whole world, as distances were slashed and the farthest extremes of the earth were brought closer together. With the broadening and strengthening of commercial ties, men of many lands and civiliza- tions came to know one another, and the Panama Canal became a mighty weapon of understanding. The impact of the Panama Canal upon the civilization of America and of the entire world was even more tremendous than that experienced from the Suez Canal. It would be foolish to minimize the importance of the latter, which joined the Mediter- ranean with the Red Sea and brought Europe nearer to Asia, Africa, and Australia. But the growing destiny of the New World as a potent influence in the trade and culture and international relationships of the earth invested the Panama Canal with a significance which the Suez Canal possessed, inevitably, in lesser degree. The Panama Canal, pride of the Caribbean area, has fulfilled a complex mission of universal importance. For the Americas, it meant swift and easy communication between the Atlantic and the Pacific. For Europe, it meant direct communication with the Pacific coast of our hemisphere, without need to transit the long and perilous course which led through the turbulent Straits of Magellan. For the world, it meant a shortening of the distances between the Old World and the New World, between Occident and Orient. A ship sailing from Europe saves at least 2,000 miles by using the Panama Canal to reach the West Coast of America. The Far East is closer to the Atlantic seaboard of the United States via the Panama Canal, than to Europe via the Suez Canal. Sidney, Australia, is 11,200 miles from Plymouth, England, via the Suez Canal, but it is only 9,851 miles from New York via the Panama Canal. The latter has brought Wellington, New Zealand, 2,000 miles neamr to New York than to any Eumpean seaport, while Yokohama, Japan, lies 900 miles closer to the great American TRADE 71 Caribbean and Western Hemisphere transportation. It was the Panama Canal which converted the Caribbean, heart of the Ameri- can continent, into a center of world transportation. There have been few endeavors in the history of mankind which have been so productive of good for all men. The opening of the Panama Canal gave a mighty forward thrust to the commerce of the whole world, as distances were slashed and the farthest extremes of the earth were brought closer together. With the broadening and strengthening of commercial ties, men of many lands and civiliza- tions came to know one another, and the Panama Canal became a mighty weapon of understanding. The impact of the Panama Canal upon the civilization of America and of the entire world was even more tremendous than that experienced from the Suez Canal. It would be foolish to minimize the importance of the latter, which joined the Mediter- ranean with the Red Sea and brought Europe nearer to Asia, Africa, and Australia. But the growing destiny of the New World as a potent influence in the trade and culture and international relationships of the earth invested the Panama Canal with a significance which the Suez Canal possessed, inevitably, in lesser degree. The Panama Canal, pride of the Caribbean area, has fulfilled a complex mission of universal importance. For the Americas, it meant swift and easy communication between the Atlantic and the Pacific. For Europe, it meant direct communication with the Pacific coast of our hemisphere, without need to transit the long and perilous course which led through the turbulent Straits of Magellan. For the world, it meant a shortening of the distances between the Old World and the New World, between Occident and Orient. A ship sailing from Europe saves at least 2,000 miles by using the Panama Canal to reach the West Coast of America. The Far East is closer to the Atlantic seaboard of the United States via the Panama Canal, than to Europe via the Suez Canal. Sidney, Australia, is 11,200 miles from Plymouth, England, via the Suez Canal, but it is only 9,851 miles from New York via the Panama Canal. The latter has brought Wellington, New Zealand, 2,000 miles nearer to New York than to any European seaport, while Yokohama, Japan, lies 900 miles closer to the great American TRADE /t Caribbean and Western Hemisphere transportation. It was the Panama Canal which converted the Caribbean, heart of the Ameri- can continent, into a center of world transportation. There have been few endeavors in the history of mankind which have been so productive of good for all men. The opening of the Panama Canal gave a mighty forward thrust to the commerce of the whole world, as distances were slashed and the farthest extremes of the earth were brought closer together. With the broadening and strengthening of commercial ties, men of many lands and civiliza- tions came to know one another, and the Panama Canal became a mighty weapon of understanding. The impact of the Panama Canal upon the civilization of America and of the entire world was even more tremendous than that experienced from the Suez Canal. It would be foolish to minimize the importance of the latter, which joined the Mediter- ranean with the Red Sea and brought Europe nearer to Asia, Africa, and Australia. But the growing destiny of the New World as a potent influence in the trade and culture and international relationships of the earth invested the Panama Canal with a significance which the Suez Canal possessed, inevitably, in lesser degree. The Panama Canal, pride of the Caribbean area, has fulfilled a complex mission of universal importance. For the Americas, it meant swift and easy communication between the Atlantic and the Pacific. For Europe, it meant direct communication with the Pacific coast of our hemisphere, without need to transit the long and perilous course which led through the turbulent Straits of Magellan. For the world, it meant a shortening of the distances between the Old World and the New World, between Occident and Orient. A ship sailing from Europe saves at least 2,000 miles by using the Panama Canal to reach the West Coast of America. The Far East is closer to the Atlantic seaboard of the United States via the Panama Canal, than to Europe via the Suez Canal. Sidney, Australia, is 11,200 miles from Plymouth, England, via the Suez Canal, but it is only 9,851 miles from New York via the Panama Canal. The latter has brought Wellington, New Zealand, 2,000 miles nearer to New York than to any European seaport, while Yokohama, Japan, lies 900 miles closer to the great American  72 The Caribbean metropolis than to Europe. In a like manner, the Panama Canal has brought a thousand points in East and West closer together. A century and more ago, when the discovery of gold in California beckoned to thousands of hardy adventurers in the western world, their journey was long and filled with discomfort. Their choice lay between the interminable sea passage around Cape Horn, and a briefer sea journey leading to an arduous land crossing of the continent at its narrowest point, across Nicaragua and the Isthmus of Panama. Seven thousand miles of water and the turbulent, hazardous Straits of Magellan lay ahead of the traveler before he emerged into the Pacific. Today, a mere 2,000 miles carries him through the Canal to the western ocean. In the twenty-five years between the opening of the Canal and 1937, some 93,000 vessels with a combined tonnage of 449,000,000 made the transit of the Panama Canal from one ocean to the other. Many tens of thousands of ships, on missions of peace or war, have passed through the Canal since then, to make it one of the greatest, if not the greatest, of world waterways. III In these critical hours of world history, it would be rash and imprudent of us were we to ignore the proposal recently made by Premier Nehru, of India, that the Panama Canal be interna- tionalized. Premier Nehru draws a most erroneous parallel between the status of the Suez Canal in the Anglo-Egyptian controversy, and the status of the Panama Canal vis-a-vis the United States and Panama. This parallel and its unfortunate implications are of such potential danger to the good relations between the United States and Panama and to the welfare of the entire Caribbean area that they will merit attention and refutation here. I should like to delve briefly into this matter, with the conviction that it is intimately linked to the future destiny of the Caribbean. It is impossible to compare, on an equal and similar basis, the public treaties between the United States and Panama on the one hand, and England and Egypt on the other, even though these treaties deal with a kindred subject matter involving the control and use of the world's two great international canals. Fundamentally, there are differences between the two which do not 72 The Caribbean metropolis than to Europe. In a like manner, the Panama Canal has brought a thousand points in East and West closer together. A century and more ago, when the discovery of gold in California beckoned to thousands of hardy adventurers in the western world, their journey was long and filled with discomfort. Their choice lay between the interminable sea passage around Cape Horn, and a briefer sea journey leading to an arduous land crossing of the continent at its narrowest point, across Nicaragua and the Isthmus of Panama. Seven thousand miles of water and the turbulent, hazardous Straits of Magellan lay ahead of the traveler before he emerged into the Pacific. Today, a mere 2,000 miles carries him through the Canal to the western ocean. In the twenty-five years between the opening of the Canal and 1937, some 93,000 vessels with a combined tonnage of 449,000,000 made the transit of the Panama Canal from one ocean to the other. Many tens of thousands of ships, on missions of peace or war, have passed through the Canal since then, to make it one of the greatest, if not the greatest, of world waterways. III In these critical hours of world history, it would be rash and imprudent of us were we to ignore the proposal recently made by Premier Nehru, of India, that the Panama Canal be interna- tionalized. Premier Nehru draws a most erroneous parallel between the status of the Suez Canal in the Anglo-Egyptian controversy, and the status of the Panama Canal vis-a-vis the United States and Panama. This parallel and its unfortunate implications are of such potential danger to the good relations between the United States and Panama and to the welfare of the entire Caribbean area that they will merit attention and refutation here. I should like to delve briefly into this matter, with the conviction that it is intimately linked to the future destiny of the Caribbean. It is impossible to compare, on an equal and similar basis, the public treaties between the United States and Panama on the one hand, and England and Egypt on the other, even though these treaties deal with a kindred subject matter involving the control and use of the world's two great international canals. Fundamentally, there are differences between the two which do not 72 The Caribbean metropolis than to Europe. In a like manner, the Panama Canal has brought a thousand points in East and West closer together. A century and more ago, when the discovery of gold in California beckoned to thousands of hardy adventurers in the western world, their journey was long and filled with discomfort. Their choice lay between the interminable sea passage around Cape Horn, and a briefer sea journey leading to an arduous land crossing of the continent at its narrowest point, across Nicaragua and the Isthmus of Panama. Seven thousand miles of water and the turbulent, hazardous Straits of Magellan lay ahead of the traveler before he emerged into the Pacific. Today, a mere 2,000 miles carries him through the Canal to the western ocean. In the twenty-five years between the opening of the Canal and 1937, some 93,000 vessels with a combined tonnage of 449,000,000 made the transit of the Panama Canal from one ocean to the other. Many tens of thousands of ships, on missions of peace or war, have passed through the Canal since then, to make it one of the greatest, if not the greatest, of world waterways. III In these critical hours of world history, it would be rash and imprudent of us were we to ignore the proposal recently made by Premier Nehru, of India, that the Panama Canal be interna- tionalized. Premier Nehru draws a most erroneous parallel between the status of the Suez Canal in the Anglo-Egyptian controversy, and the status of the Panama Canal vis-a-vis the United States and Panama. This parallel and its unfortunate implications are of such potential danger to the good relations between the United States and Panama and to the welfare of the entire Caribbean area that they will merit attention and refutation here. I should like to delve briefly into this matter, with the conviction that it is intimately linked to the future destiny of the Caribbean. It is impossible to compare, on an equal and similar basis, the public treaties between the United States and Panama on the one hand, and England and Egypt on the other, even though these treaties deal with a kindred subject matter involving the control and use of the world's two great international canals. Fundamentally, there are differences between the two which do not  TRADE 73 TRADE 73 TRADE lend themselves to comparison, and outstanding among these differences are the following: 1. The Suez Canal was conceived and constructed in its entirety as a commercial enterprise, without a basis in public treaty. Nego- tiations took place between Viceroy Mohammed Said, Egypt's highest authority at the time, and Count Fernando de Lesseps, who organized the Compagnie Universelle du Canal Maritime de Suez in France in 1858, as the sole concessionaire. 2. From its inauguration in 1869, the Suez Canal has been operated as a commercial enterprise, and Egypt participated in its earnings only to the extent that she held shares in the French company. 3. About 1875 England began to acquire working control of the Suez Canal through the purchase of shares, constituting about half of the total shares, then held by Egypt. This acquisition was a purely commercial transaction and was not the subject of a public treaty. England's participation at that time was limited to ad- ministrative activities and its property rights to the Suez Canal as a business enterprise. 4. Basically, Egypt has not ceded its jurisdiction over the civilian ppoulation of the Suez Canal Zone. 5. Despite its commercial aspects, the Suez Canal subsequently presented problems of an international nature which were reflected in public treaties concerned with the neutrality of the canal, and the maintenance and defense of that neutrality. The general intent was to prevent any single power from gaining control over the canal, to the detriment of other seafaring nations. The play of international events led to a number of treaties, but all of these had one characteristic in common: they confined themselves to the neutrality and defense of the canal, and to that alone. From the time of Turkish domination of Egypt, in force when the concession was granted to de Lesseps, to the eclipse of Turkey in the Treaty of Versailles, the great powers engaged in many negotiations deal- ing with the Suez Canal. Yet not one of these altered the status or structure of the Compagnie Universelle. 6. England emerged almost alone in its contml over the Suez Canal by virtue of Article 152 of the Treaty of Versailles, by which it inherited all the rights over Egypt formerly held by the Sultan of Turkey. In short, Egypt, which had been a semi- lend themselves to comparison, and outstanding among these differences are the following: 1. The Suez Canal was conceived and constructed in its entirety as a commercial enterprise, without a basis in public treaty. Nego- tiations took place between Viceroy Mohammed Said, Egypt's highest authority at the time, and Count Fernando de Lesseps, who organized the Compagnie Universelle du Canal Maritime de Suez in France in 1858, as the sole concessionaire. 2. From its inauguration in 1869, the Suez Canal has been operated as a commercial enterprise, and Egypt participated in its earnings only to the extent that she held shares in the French company. 3. About 1875 England began to acquire working control of the Suez Canal through the purchase of shares, constituting about half of the total shares, then held by Egypt. This acquisition was a purely commercial transaction and was not the subject of a public treaty. England's participation at that time was limited to ad- ministrative activities and its property rights to the Suez Canal as a business enterprise. 4. Basically, Egypt has not ceded its jurisdiction over the civilian population of the Suez Canal Zone. 5. Despite its commercial aspects, the Suez Canal subsequently presented problems of an international nature which were reflected in public treaties concerned with the neutrality of the canal, and the maintenance and defense of that neutrality. The general intent was to prevent any single power from gaining control over the canal, to the detriment of other seafaring nations. The play of international events led to a number of treaties, but all of these had one characteristic in common: they confined themselves to the neutrality and defense of the canal, and to that alone. From the time of Turkish domination of Egypt, in force when the concession was granted to de Lesseps, to the eclipse of Turkey in the Treaty of Versailles, the great powers engaged in many negotiations deal- ing with the Suez Canal. Yet not one of these altered the status or structure of the Compagnie Universelle. 6. England emerged almost alone in its control over the Suez Canal by virtue of Article 152 of the Treaty of Versailles, by which it inherited all the rights over Egypt formerly held by the Sultan of Turkey. In short, Egypt, which had been a semi- lend themselves to comparison, and outstanding among these differences are the following: 1. The Suez Canal was conceived and constructed in its entirety as a commercial enterprise, without a basis in public treaty. Nego- tiations took place between Viceroy Mohammed Said, Egypt's highest authority at the time, and Count Fernando de Lesseps, who organized the Compagnie Universelle du Canal Maritime de Suez in France in 1858, as the sole concessionaire. 2. From its inauguration in 1869, the Suez Canal has been operated as a commercial enterprise, and Egypt participated in its earnings only to the extent that she held shares in the French company. 3. About 1875 England began to acquire working control of the Suez Canal through the purchase of shares, constituting about half of the total shares, then held by Egypt. This acquisition was a purely commercial transaction and was not the subject of a public treaty. England's participation at that time was limited to ad- ministrative activities and its property rights to the Suez Canal as a business enterprise. 4. Basically, Egypt has not ceded its jurisdiction over the civilian population of the Suez Canal Zone. 5. Despite its commercial aspects, the Suez Canal subsequently presented problems of an international nature which were reflected in public treaties concerned with the neutrality of the canal, and the maintenance and defense of that neutrality. The general intent was to prevent any single power from gaining control over the canal, to the detriment of other seafaring nations. The play of international events led to a number of treaties, but all of these had one characteristic in common: they confined themselves to the neutrality and defense of the canal, and to that alone. From the time of Turkish domination of Egypt, in force when the concession was granted to de Lesseps, to the eclipse of Turkey in the Treaty of Versailles, the great powers engaged in many negotiations deal- ing with the Suez Canal. Yet not one of these altered the status or structure of the Compagnie Universelle. 6. England emerged almost alone in its control over the Suez Canal by virtue of Article 152 of the Treaty of Versailles, by which it inherited all the rights over Egypt formerly held by the Sultan of Turkey. In short, Egypt, which had been a semi-  74 The Caribbean sovereign vassal state within the Turkish Empire, continued to occupy that status with respect to England. The Treaty of Versailles, in granting England a protectorate over Egypt, merely gave sanction to England's military occupation of Egypt in 1914, with the outbreak of war between that country and Germany and Turkey. 7. In theory, at least, England terminated her protectorate over Egypt in 1922, and a public treaty was signed between the two states. Nevertheless, this treaty imposed certain obligations on Egypt, in her relationship with England, in connection with the political and military status of the Suez Canal, which continued to be the property of the Compagnie Universelle. The Treaty of 1922 established that subsequent agreements would be drawn up between the contracting parties with respect to the definitive status of the Suez Canal. These agreements would also deal with the defense and security of the canal, and would contain guar- antees that England would always enjoy free access to the canal and free transit of that waterway. 8. Undoubtedly, as a consequence of the Treaty of 1922, another treaty was signed in 1936. The latter instrument is still in effect, and is the bone of contention in the present tension between the two countries. It was directly motivated by the threat of Mus- solini's imperialism in the Mediterranean area, which persuaded England that a new treaty was essential if its control of the Suez Canal was to remain secure. The Treaty of 1936 recognized Egypt's full sovereignty and called upon England to withdraw its military forces from Egypt, with the exception of 10,000 troops and 400 military aircraft in the Suez Canal Zone. England was also granted the use of Alexandria and Port Said as naval bases, and the right to move troops across Egyptian territory in case of war or the threat of war. In turn, England bound herself to defend Egypt against aggression and support her admission to the League of Nations. The Treaty of 1936, in short, had the semblance of a treaty of alliance and contained specific contractual provisions concerning the Suez Canal in time of war. 9. The concession granted to the Compagnie Universelle du Canal Maritime de Suez had a life of ninety-nine years. It was provided that, upon its expiration in 1968, the company would become the property of the Egyptian Government, although this 74 The Caribbean 74 The Caribbean sovereign vassal state within the Turkish Empire, continued to occupy that status with respect to England. The Treaty of Versailles, in granting England a protectorate over Egypt, merely gave sanction to England's military occupation of Egypt in 1914, with the outbreak of war between that country and Germany and Turkey. 7. In theory, at least, England terminated her protectorate over Egypt in 1922, and a public treaty was signed between the two states. Nevertheless, this treaty imposed certain obligations on Egypt, in her relationship with England, in connection with the political and military status of the Suez Canal, which continued to be the property of the Compagnie Universelle. The Treaty of 1922 established that subsequent agreements would be drawn up between the contracting parties with respect to the definitive status of the Suez Canal. These agreements would also deal with the defense and security of the canal, and would contain guar- antees that England would always enjoy free access to the canal and free transit of that waterway. 8. Undoubtedly, as a consequence of the Treaty of 1922, another treaty was signed in 1936. The latter instrument is still in effect, and is the bone of contention in the present tension between the two countries. It was directly motivated by the threat of Mus- solini's imperialism in the Mediterranean area, which persuaded England that a new treaty was essential if its control of the Suez Canal was to remain secure. The Treaty of 1936 recognized Egypt's full sovereignty and called upon England to withdraw its military forces from Egypt, with the exception of 10,000 troops and 400 military aircraft in the Suez Canal Zone. England was also granted the use of Alexandria and Port Said as naval bases, and the right to move troops across Egyptian territory in case of war or the threat of war. In turn, England bound herself to defend Egypt against aggression and support her admission to the League of Nations. The Treaty of 1936, in short, had the semblance of a treaty of alliance and contained specific contractual provisions concerning the Suez Canal in time of war. 9. The concession granted to the Compagnie Universelle du Canal Maritime de Suez had a life of ninety-nine years. It was provided that, upon its expiration in 1968, the company would become the property of the Egyptian Government, although this sovereign vassal state within the Turkish Empire, continued to occupy that status with respect to England. The Treaty of Versailles, in granting England a protectorate over Egypt, merely gave sanction to England's military occupation of Egypt in 1914, with the outbreak of war between that country and Germany and Turkey. 7. In theory, at least, England terminated her protectorate over Egypt in 1922, and a public treaty was signed between the two states. Nevertheless, this treaty imposed certain obligations on Egypt, in her relationship with England, in connection with the political and military status of the Suez Canal, which continued to be the property of the Compagnie Universelle. The Treaty of 1922 established that subsequent agreements would be drawn up between the contracting parties with respect to the definitive status of the Suez Canal. These agreements would also deal with the defense and security of the canal, and would contain guar- antees that England would always enjoy free access to the canal and free transit of that waterway. 8. Undoubtedly, as a consequence of the Treaty of 1922, another treaty was signed in 1936. The latter instrument is still in effect, and is the bone of contention in the present tension between the two countries. It was directly motivated by the threat of Mus- solini's imperialism in the Mediterranean area, which persuaded England that a new treaty was essential if its control of the Suez Canal was to remain secure. The Treaty of 1936 recognized Egypt's full sovereignty and called upon England to withdraw its military forces from Egypt, with the exception of 10,000 troops and 400 military aircraft in the Suez Canal Zone. England was also granted the use of Alexandria and Port Said as naval bases, and the right to move troops across Egyptian territory in case of war or the threat of war. In turn, England bound herself to defend Egypt against aggression and support her admission to the League of Nations. The Treaty of 1936, in short, had the semblance of a treaty of alliance and contained specific contractual provisions concerning the Suez Canal in time of war. 9. The concession granted to the Compagnie Universelle du Canal Maritime de Suez had a life of ninety-nine years. It was provided that, upon its expiration in 1968, the company would become the property of the Egyptian Government, although this  TRADE 75 provision had nothing to do with the Anglo-Egyptian treaty con- cerning the alliance between the two countries and the defense of the canal. Obviously, Egypt alone would be unable to guarantee the neutrality of the canal agreed upon by the world powers follow- ing its construction. Possibly, however, the maintenance of the Suez Canal's neutrality might be the subject of revisions within the United Nations which could lead to another treaty or the estab- lishment of a new status for the Suez Canal. IV The position of the Panama Canal, dream of European monarchs who envisioned a waterway across Nicaragua which would bring them untold power and riches, evolved along somewhat different lines: 1. Following a number of explorations and attempts by France and England to construct a canal across Central America, the celebrated French engineer and naval officer, Captain Napoleon Bonaparte Wyse, obtained a concession from the government of Colombia in 1876 for the construction and operation of a canal across the Isthmus of Panama. Wyse transferred his concession to the Compania Universal del Canal Interocednico, headed by that same Fernando de Lesseps who had covered himself with such glory in the miracle of the Suez Canal. Work on the Panama Canal was begun in 1882. Up to this point, there were many similarities between the Suez Canal and the proposed Panama Canal. To cite the most outstanding, the concessionaire in each case was a private, commercial enterprise, without need or justifica- tion for a public treaty. 2. For a number of reasons, including the mismanagement of funds, the Compania Universal del Canal Interocednico met with disaster-disaster with which the aging De Lesseps was unable to cope. Its concession rights were sold to a new enterprise, La Compania Nueva del Canal, which met with no greater success, even though its efforts brought the reality of the Panama Canal appreciably nearer. 3. In the course of time the independence of Panama was declared, and in 1903 a public treaty was signed between that republic and the United States. That treaty had as its objective the TRADE 75 provision had nothing to do with the Anglo-Egyptian treaty con- cerning the alliance between the two countries and the defense of the canal. Obviously, Egypt alone would be unable to guarantee the neutrality of the canal agreed upon by the world powers follow- ing its construction. Possibly, however, the maintenance of the Suez Canal's neutrality might be the subject of revisions within the United Nations which could lead to another treaty or the estab- lishment of a new status for the Suez Canal. IV The position of the Panama Canal, dream of European monarchs who envisioned a waterway across Nicaragua which would bring them untold power and riches, evolved along somewhat different lines: 1. Following a number of explorations and attempts by France and England to construct a canal across Central America, the celebrated French engineer and naval officer, Captain Napoleon Bonaparte Wyse, obtained a concession from the government of Colombia in 1876 for the construction and operation of a canal across the Isthmus of Panama. Wyse transferred his concession to the Compaia Universal del Canal Interocednico, headed by that same Fernando de Lesseps who had covered himself with such glory in the miracle of the Suez Canal. Work on the Panama Canal was begun in 1882. Up to this point, there were many similarities between the Suez Canal and the proposed Panama Canal. To cite the most outstanding, the concessionaire in each case was a private, commercial enterprise, without need or justifica- tion for a public treaty. 2. For a number of reasons, including the mismanagement of funds, the Compania Universal del Canal Interocednico met with disaster-disaster with which the aging De Lesseps was unable to cope. Its concession rights were sold to a new enterprise, La Compafia Nueva del Canal, which met with no greater success, even though its efforts brought the reality of the Panama Canal appreciably nearer. 3. In the course of time the independence of Panama was declared, and in 1903 a public treaty was signed between that republic and the United States. That treaty had as its objective the TRADE /D provision had nothing to do with the Anglo-Egyptian treaty con- cerning the alliance between the two countries and the defense of the canal. Obviously, Egypt alone would be unable to guarantee the neutrality of the canal agreed upon by the world powers follow- ing its construction. Possibly, however, the maintenance of the Suez Canal's neutrality might be the subject of revisions within the United Nations which could lead to another treaty or the estab- lishment of a new status for the Suez Canal. IV The position of the Panama Canal, dream of European monarchs who envisioned a waterway across Nicaragua which would bring them untold power and riches, evolved along somewhat different lines: 1. Following a number of explorations and attempts by France and England to construct a canal across Central America, the celebrated French engineer and naval officer, Captain Napoleon Bonaparte Wyse, obtained a concession from the government of Colombia in 1876 for the construction and operation of a canal across the Isthmus of Panama. Wyse transferred his concession to the Compania Universal del Canal Interocednico, headed by that same Fernando de Lesseps who had covered himself with such glory in the miracle of the Suez Canal. Work on the Panama Canal was begun in 1882. Up to this point, there were many similarities between the Suez Canal and the proposed Panama Canal. To cite the most outstanding, the concessionaire in each case was a private, commercial enterprise, without need or justifica- tion for a public treaty. 2. For a number of reasons, including the mismanagement of funds, the Compania Universal del Canal Interocednico met with disaster-disaster with which the aging De Lesseps was unable to cope. Its concession rights were sold to a new enterprise, La Compaia Nueva del Canal, which met with no greater success, even though its efforts brought the reality of the Panama Canal appreciably nearer. 3. In the course of time the independence of Panama was declared, and in 1903 a public treaty was signed between that republic and the United States. That treaty had as its objective the  76 The Caribbean construction of the Panama Canal, an objective which previously had been the subject of negotiations between Colombia and the United States leading to a treaty which was ejected by the Colombian Congress. It was this action of the Colombian Con- gress which precipitated the independence of Panama. 4. The United States Government bought the Compania Nueva del Canal's concession rights for $40,000,000, together with the company's properties. Panama assumed the prerogatives formerly held by Colombia and the situation abruptly changed. Now, two governments were engaged in negotiation, instead of a government and a private commercial enterprise. 5. The Teaty of 1903 was revised by a subsequent teaty, signed in 1936, which modified certain factors which had unfavorably affected Panama's status as a sovereign and independent state. Among these, for example, was the right of intervention in Panamanian affairs, which had been conferred upon the United States by the Treaty of 1903. 6. The Twaty of 1903 was of vital importance in making the interoceanic canal a reality instead of a dream. And let it be noted that this was one of the basic differences between the Suez Canal and the Panama Canal. Suez was built without benefit of public treaty. 7. In accordance with the Treaty of 1903, the United States acquired certain rights for "the construction, use, occupation, and control by the United States of the Canal Zone for the purposes of the efficient maintenance, functioning, sanitation, and protec- tion of the Canal and auxiliary works." 8. The basic concessions of this treaty were perpetual in char- acter, and were so characterized by Article 1, which read, in part, as follows: "The United States of America shall continue to main- tain the Panama Canal for the development and use of interoceanic commerce, and the two Governments manifest their desiw to co- operate in every way possible for the purpose of ensuring the full and perpetual enjoyment of the benefits of every kind which the Canal should offer to the two nations which have made its con- struction possible, as well as to all nations interested in world trade." (Italics mine.) 9. Needless to say, the treaty in force between Panama and the United States had its basis in the Canal itself, which became a 76 The Caribbean construction of the Panama Canal, an objective which previously had been the subject of negotiations between Colombia and the United States leading to a treaty which was injected by the Colombian Congress. It was this action of the Colombian Con- gress which pwcipitated the independence of Panama. 4. The United States Government bought the Compania Nueva del Canal's concession rights for $40,000,000, together with the company's properties. Panama assumed the prerogatives formerly held by Colombia and the situation abruptly changed. Now, two governments were engaged in negotiation, instead of a government and a private commercial enterprise. 5. The Treaty of 1903 was revised by a subsequent treaty, signed in 1936, which modified certain factors which had unfavorably affected Panama's status as a sovewign and independent state. Among these, for example, was the right of intervention in Panamanian affairs, which had been conferred upon the United States by the Twaty of 1903. 6. The Treaty of 1903 was of vital importance in making the interoceanic canal a reality instead of a dream. And let it be noted that this was one of the basic differences between the Suez Canal and the Panama Canal. Suez was built without benefit of public treaty. 7. In accordance with the Treaty of 1903, the United States acquired certain rights for "the construction, use, occupation, and control by the United States of the Canal Zone for the purposes of the efficient maintenance, functioning, sanitation, and protec- tion of the Canal and auxiliary works." 8. The basic concessions of this treaty were perpetual in char- acter, and were so characterized by Article 1, which read, in part, as follows: "The United States of America shall continue to main- tain the Panama Canal for the development and use of interoceanic commerce, and the two Governments manifest their desire to co- operate in every way possible for the purpose of ensuring the full and perpetual enjoyment of the benefits of every kind which the Canal should offer to the two nations which have made its con- struction possible, as well as to all nations interested in world trade." (Italics mine.) 9. Needless to say, the treaty in force between Panama and the United States had its basis in the Canal itself, which became a 76 The Caribbean construction of the Panama Canal, an objective which previously had been the subject of negotiations between Colombia and the United States leading to a treaty which was rejected by the Colombian Congress. It was this action of the Colombian Con- gress which precipitated the independence of Panama. 4. The United States Government bought the Compania Nueva del Canal's concession rights for $40,000,000, together with the company's properties. Panama assumed the prerogatives formerly held by Colombia and the situation abruptly changed. Now, two governments were engaged in negotiation, instead of a government and a private commercial enterprise. 5. The Treaty of 1903 was revised by a subsequent treaty, signed in 1936, which modified certain factors which had unfavorably affected Panama's status as a sovereign and independent state. Among these, for example, was the right of intervention in Panamanian affairs, which had been conferred upon the United States by the Treaty of 1903. 6. The Treaty of 1903 was of vital importance in making the interoceanic canal a reality instead of a dream. And let it be noted that this was one of the basic differences between the Suez Canal and the Panama Canal. Suez was built without benefit of public treaty. 7. In accordance with the Treaty of 1903, the United States acquired certain rights for "the construction, use, occupation, and control by the United States of the Canal Zone for the purposes of the efficient maintenance, functioning, sanitation, and protec- tion of the Canal and auxiliary works." 8. The basic concessions of this treaty were perpetual in char- acter, and were so characterized by Article 1, which read, in part, as follows: "The United States of America shall continue to main- tain the Panama Canal for the development and use of interoceanic commerce, and the two Governments manifest their desire to co- operate in every way possible for the purpose of ensuring the full and perpetual enjoyment of the benefits of every kind which the Canal should offer to the two nations which have made its con- struction possible, as well as to all nations interested in world trade." (Italics mine.) 9. Needless to say, the treaty in force between Panama and the United States had its basis in the Canal itself, which became a  TRADE 77 TRADE 77 TRADE 77 dramatic and magnificent part of the civilization of mankind upon its completion in 1914, even though six more years were to inter- vene before President Belisario Porras, of Panama, and President Woodrow Wilson, of the United States, met to dedicate it in 1920. 10. The Treaty granted to the United States certain jurisdic- tional rights over the Canal Zone which were to be "as though sovereign." This involved certain new norms in international law. Panama retained the maximum attributes of sovereignty, but juris- diction within the Canal Zone, a strip forty-five miles long by ten miles wide, fell to United States authorities. This jurisdiction, needless to say, extended over the territorial waters of the Canal Zone to the three-mile limit, and included air space over the Canal Zone. 11. Likewise established was the pattern for the defense of the Canal and for measures to be taken in case of an aggression prej- udicial to the interests of the two contracting parties in the inter- oceanic waterway. 12. The revenues derived from the Panama Canal do not imply a direct source of income for the Republic of Panama. The United States makes an annual payment of $430,000 to Panama for reasons which are unrelated to the revenues from tolls and other charges levied on vessels using the Canal. Here, too, is to be found another basic difference between the Panama Canal and the Suez Caanl, which is a direct source of dividends for share- holders in the Compagnie Universelle du Canal Maritime de Suez. In short, the differences between the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty on the Suez Canal, and the United States-Panamanian Treaty on the Panama Canal, are as fundamental as they are manifest. The first was a consequence of the Suez Canal. The second had as a con- sequence the Panama Canal. It would be impossible to treat fully all the complex aspects of this matter, or to predict what the future holds in store for the Panama Canal and the Pan American Highway. But of one thing we can be sure: The Caribbean will continue to be an area of incalculable importance, across which will course the great routes of the world in the service of America and of humanity. dramatic and magnificent part of the civilization of mankind upon its completion in 1914, even though six more years were to inter- vene before President Belisario Porras, of Panama, and President Woodrow Wilson, of the United States, met to dedicate it in 1920. 10. The Treaty granted to the United States certain jurisdic- tional rights over the Canal Zone which were to be "as though sovereign." This involved certain new norms in international law. Panama retained the maximum attributes of sovereignty, but juris- diction within the Canal Zone, a strip forty-five miles long by ten miles wide, fell to United States authorities. This jurisdiction, needless to say, extended over the territorial waters of the Canal Zone to the three-mile limit, and included air space over the Canal Zone. 11. Likewise established was the pattern for the defense of the Canal and for measures to be taken in case of an aggression prej- udicial to the interests of the two contracting parties in the inter- oceanic waterway. 12. The revenues derived from the Panama Canal do not imply a direct source of income for the Republic of Panama. The United States makes an annual payment of $430,000 to Panama for reasons which are unrelated to the revenues from tolls and other charges levied on vessels using the Canal. Here, too, is to be found another basic difference between the Panama Canal and the Suez Caanl, which is a direct source of dividends for share- holders in the Compagnie Unicerselle du Canal Maritime de Suez. In short, the differences between the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty on the Suez Canal, and the United States-Panamanian Treaty on the Panama Canal, are as fundamental as they are manifest. The first was a consequence of the Suez Canal. The second had as a con- sequence the Panama Canal. It would be impossible to treat fully all the complex aspects of this matter, or to predict what the future holds in store for the Panama Canal and the Pan American Highway. But of one thing we can be sure: The Caribbean will continue to be an area of incalculable importance, across which will course the great mutes of the world in the service of America and of humanity, dramatic and magnificent part of the civilization of mankind upon its completion in 1914, even though six more years were to inter- vene before President Belisario Porras, of Panama, and President Woodrow Wilson, of the United States, met to dedicate it in 1920. 10. The Treaty granted to the United States certain jurisdic- tional rights over the Canal Zone which were to be "as though sovereign." This involved certain new norms in international law. Panama retained the maximum attributes of sovereignty, but juris- diction within the Canal Zone, a strip forty-five miles long by ten miles wide, fell to United States authorities. This jurisdiction, needless to say, extended over the territorial waters of the Canal Zone to the three-mile limit, and included air space over the Canal Zone. 11. Likewise established was the pattern for the defense of the Canal and for measures to be taken in case of an aggression prej- udicial to the interests of the two contracting parties in the inter- oceanic waterway. 12. The revenues derived from the Panama Canal do not imply a direct source of income for the Republic of Panama. The United States makes an annual payment of $430,000 to Panama for reasons which are unrelated to the revenues from tolls and other charges levied on vessels using the Canal. Here, too, is to be found another basic difference between the Panama Canal and the Suez Caanl, which is a direct source of dividends for share- holders in the Compagnie Universelle du Canal Maritime de Suez. In short, the differences between the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty on the Suez Canal, and the United States-Panamanian Treaty on the Panama Canal, are as fundamental as they are manifest. The first was a consequence of the Suez Canal. The second had as a con- sequence the Panama Canal. It would be impossible to treat fully all the complex aspects of this matter, or to predict what the future holds in store for the Panama Canal and the Pan American Highway. But of one thing we can be sure: The Caribbean will continue to be an area of incalculable importance, across which will course the great routes of the world in the service of America and of humanity.  8 Frank K. Bell: THE CARIBBEAN: AMERICA'S SECOND BEST CUSTOMER MY COMPANY is complimented, and I am honored, with this opportunity to address a gathering which, in the main, according to my impression, is more concerned with academic views than with those which we in commerce would normally consider of a more practical nature. I should not say that I am in strange company, but certainly the circumstances are unusual. I will there- fore take the liberty of telling a little of my background and that of the Alcoa Steamship Company in relation to the Caribbean. My first knowledge of the Caribbean came in the years 1915 to 1919 in Trinidad when, as an enforced World War I refugee, I was unofficially adopted by local friends. My experience in those impressionable years left with me a knowledge of Caribbean life which few are privileged to have. After twenty-one years in the United States, I returned to Trinidad for six years as District Manager for Alcoa, a position which brought me in close contact with officialdom from all parts of the world and most of the leading people of the eastern Caribbean. During the fateful years of 1942-1945, Trinidad was the center of shipping's strenuous war effort in the South Atlantic; the meeting place of convoys, and the transfer point of millions of tons of bauxite, which contributed so much to America's success in the war. The Alcoa Steamship Company was born from the need to transport bauxite ore, discovered in Dutch and British Guiana over thirty years ago, to the United States. From small sample ship- ments, the traffic has grown to a movement of nearly four million Frank K. Bell: THE CARIBBEAN: AMERICA'S SECOND BEST CUSTOMER MY COMPANY is complimented, and I am honored, with this opportunity to address a gathering which, in the main, according to my impression, is more concerned with academic views than with those which we in commerce would normally consider of a more practical nature. I should not say that I am in strange company, but certainly the circumstances are unusual. I will there- fore take the liberty of telling a little of my background and that of the Alcoa Steamship Company in relation to the Caribbean. My first knowledge of the Caribbean came in the years 1915 to 1919 in Trinidad when, as an enforced World War I refugee, I was unofficially adopted by local friends. My experience in those impressionable years left with me a knowledge of Caribbean life which few are privileged to have. After twenty-one years in the United States, I returned to Trinidad for six years as District Manager for Alcoa, a position which brought me in close contact with officialdom from all parts of the world and most of the leading people of the eastern Caribbean. During the fateful years of 1942-1945, Trinidad was the center of shipping's strenuous war effort in the South Atlantic; the meeting place of convoys, and the transfer point of millions of tons of bauxite, which contributed so much to America's success in the war. The Alcoa Steamship Company was born from the need to transport bauxite ore, discovered in Dutch and British Guiana over thirty years ago, to the United States. From small sample ship- ments, the traffic has grown to a movement of nearly four million 78 Frank K. Bell: THE CARIBBEAN: AMERICA'S SECOND BEST CUSTOMER MY COMPANY is complimented, and I am honored, with this opportunity to address a gathering which, in the main, according to my impression, is more concerned with academic views than with those which we in commerce would normally consider of a more practical nature. I should not say that I am in strange company, but certainly the circumstances are unusual. I will there- fore take the liberty of telling a little of my background and that of the Alcoa Steamship Company in relation to the Caribbean. My first knowledge of the Caribbean came in the years 1915 to 1919 in Trinidad when, as an enforced World War I refugee, I was unofficially adopted by local friends. My experience in those impressionable years left with me a knowledge of Caribbean life which few are privileged to have. After twenty-one years in the United States, I returned to Trinidad for six years as District Manager for Alcoa, a position which brought me in close contact with officialdom from all parts of the world and most of the leading people of the eastern Caribbean. During the fateful years of 1942-1945, Trinidad was the center of shipping's strenuous war effort in the South Atlantic; the meeting place of convoys, and the transfer point of millions of tons of bauxite, which contributed so much to America's success in the war. The Alcoa Steamship Company was born from the need to transport bauxite ore, discovered in Dutch and British Guiana over thirty years ago, to the United States. From small sample ship- ments, the traffic has grown to a movement of nearly four million 78  TRADE 79 TRADE 79 tons of ore annually. Alcoa is now responsible for the traffic from Dutch Guiana, the British Guiana traffic being handled by a Canadian company. Sending ships in ballast on long voyages to load bulk ore cargoes is not usually economical, so it was not long before Alcoa sought paying cargoes to decrease the cost of getting ships to the mines. The result is that Alcoa ships now serve fifty-nine ports in the Caribbean, carrying general cargo and passengers, all vessels with some few exceptions returning with full cargoes of bauxite ore. Alcoa's effort to obtain a major share of southbound traffic has developed an organization working continually to improve trade and tourism in the Caribbean. The area covered does not include Central America, which is properly of the Caribbean, but is com- posed of all the islands of the Greater and Lesser Antilles, ex- cepting only Cuba and including the South American continent from Venezuela through the Guianas. I have used the title, "The Caribbean: America's Second Best Customer," not necessarily to draw attention to a statistical position, but as an expression of my belief that, in spite of the varied national and racial backgrounds found in the Caribbean, more American influence is present in that area than in any other like area in the world. Trade figures are sometimes misleading in that they are usually based on units subject to variable factors. The Caribbean is one of America's top customers and will, I believe, constantly hold this position because, apart from its in- creasing commercial demands, American products and the American way of life meet enthusiastic support in the area. The lifeline of revenue of this Caribbean region is kept flowing by its two types of trade: commodity and tourist. It is an area of great contrast: on the one hand a powerful, affuent economy such as Venezuela's, capable of purchasing, through the develop- ment of its natural resources, an unceasing supply of United States goods and services; and on the other hand, islands and countries which seem consigned to an inexorable future of struggle and want. And there are, at the same time, a few countries mid- way between these extremes; and as they emerge with greater tons of ore annually. Alcoa is now responsible for the traffic from Dutch Guiana, the British Guiana traffic being handled by a Canadian company. Sending ships in ballast on long voyages to load bulk ore cargoes is not usually economical, so it was not long before Alcoa sought paying cargoes to decrease the cost of getting ships to the mines. The result is that Alcoa ships now serve fifty-nine ports in the Caribbean, carrying general cargo and passengers, all vessels with some few exceptions returning with full cargoes of bauxite ore. Alcoa's effort to obtain a major share of southbound traffic has developed an organization working continually to improve trade and tourism in the Caribbean. The area covered does not include Central America, which is properly of the Caribbean, but is com- posed of all the islands of the Greater and Lesser Antilles, ex- cepting only Cuba and including the South American continent from Venezuela through the Guianas. I have used the title, "The Caribbean: America's Second Best Customer," not necessarily to draw attention to a statistical position, but as an expression of my belief that, in spite of the varied national and racial backgrounds found in the Caribbean, more American influence is present in that area than in any other like area in the world. Trade figures are sometimes misleading in that they are usually based on units subject to variable factors. The Caribbean is one of America's top customers and will, I believe, constantly hold this position because, apart from its in- creasing commercial demands, American products and the American way of life meet enthusiastic support in the area. The lifeline of revenue of this Caribbean region is kept flowing by its two types of trade: commodity and tourist. It is an area of great contrast: on the one hand a powerful, affuent economy such as Venezuela's, capable of purchasing, through the develop- ment of its natural resources, an unceasing supply of United States goods and services; and on the other hand, islands and countries which seem consigned to an inexorable future of struggle and want. And there are, at the same time, a few countries mid- way between these extremes; and as they emerge with greater TRADE / tons of ore annually. Alcoa is now responsible for the traffic from Dutch Guiana, the British Guiana traffic being handled by a Canadian company. Sending ships in ballast on long voyages to load bulk ore cargoes is not usually economical, so it was not long before Alcoa sought paying cargoes to decrease the cost of getting ships to the mines. The result is that Alcoa ships now serve fifty-nine ports in the Caribbean, carrying general cargo and passengers, all vessels with some few exceptions returning with full cargoes of bauxite ore. Alcoa's effort to obtain a major share of southbound traffic has developed an organization working continually to improve trade and tourism in the Caribbean. The area covered does not include Central America, which is properly of the Caribbean, but is com- posed of all the islands of the Greater and Lesser Antilles, ex- cepting only Cuba and including the South American continent from Venezuela through the Guianas. I have used the title, "The Caribbean: America's Second Best Customer," not necessarily to draw attention to a statistical position, but as an expression of my belief that, in spite of the varied national and racial backgrounds found in the Caribbean, more American influence is present in that area than in any other like area in the world. Trade figures are sometimes misleading in that they are usually based on units subject to variable factors. The Caribbean is one of America's top customers and will, I believe, constantly hold this position because, apart from its in- creasing commercial demands, American products and the American way of life meet enthusiastic support in the area. The lifeline of revenue of this Caribbean region is kept flowing by its two types of trade: commodity and tourist. It is an area of great contrast: on the one hand a powerful, affluent economy such as Venezuela's, capable of purchasing, through the develop- ment of its natural resources, an unceasing supply of United States goods and services; and on the other hand, islands and countries which seem consigned to an inexorable future of struggle and want. And there are, at the same time, a few countries mid- way between these extremes; and as they emerge with greater  80 The Caribbean progress with each passing year, they become fine examples of what can and has happened through wise planning and enterprise. It does not contribute to an easy solution that the largely under- developed area we call the Caribbean is logically a geographical entity, but one which in actuality is an eclectic potpourri of widely differing political units. With but one or two exceptions, it is not in the tradition of these islands and countries to show a favorable trade balance. And so in effect there is a constant scrambling to get and stay ahead of the game, a sort of perpetual deficit financing. For most of the units of this territory, it can be said that there is no security in the one-crop agricultural economy they have cultivated-or inherited. In a day of complete absentee ownership and no labor costs, the system worked after a fashion, but now with so many wagons hitched to one star, we have the anomaly of a seventeenth- and eighteenth-century economy beset with twentieth-century com- plexities and desires. Each year the population of this area swells, and at the same time its great potential as a consumer market increases. I have often heard the casual visitor to the Caribbean comment, on his return to this country, on the poverty and low standard of living found in the Caribbean. Comments of this kind are always relative and certainly may be justified when American standards are used, but anyone who has known the Caribbean for the last forty years, as I have, is constantly amazed at the rise in standards during these decades, and particularly in the last ten years. Where shacks made of kerosene oil boxes were an accepted type of residence years ago-and I am sorry to say there are still a few left-neat, attractive houses have appeared by the tens of thousands throughout the area, the families of oil-box shacks and flour-bag clothes being replaced by modestly but smartly dressed men, women, and children, living in modern dwellings, expressing the results of better education and a growing pride in a more dignified civilization. In many places, government has been active in housing plans, but I feel, in the main, that government activity has been supplemental to a normal desire for better living. It is interesting to look at recent figures for exports from the United States to the area served by Alcoa. In 1939, exports from 80 The Caribbean 80 The Caribbean progress with each passing year, they become fine examples of what can and has happened through wise planning and enterprise. It does not contribute to an easy solution that the largely under- developed area we call the Caribbean is logically a geographical entity, but one which in actuality is an eclectic potpourri of widely differing political units. With but one or two exceptions, it is not in the tradition of these islands and countries to show a favorable trade balance. And so in effect there is a constant scrambling to get and stay ahead of the game, a sort of perpetual deficit financing. For most of the units of this territory, it can be said that there is no security in the one-crop agricultural economy they have cultivated-or inherited. In a day of complete absentee ownership and no labor costs, the system worked after a fashion, but now with so many wagons hitched to one star, we have the anomaly of a seventeenth- and eighteenth-century economy beset with twentieth-century com- plexities and desires. Each year the population of this area swells, and at the same time its great potential as a consumer market increases. I have often heard the casual visitor to the Caribbean comment, on his return to this country, on the poverty and low standard of living found in the Caribbean. Comments of this kind are always relative and certainly may be justified when American standards are used, but anyone who has known the Caribbean for the last forty years, as I have, is constantly amazed at the rise in standards during these decades, and particularly in the last ten years. Where shacks made of kerosene oil boxes were an accepted type of msidence years ago-and I am sorry to say there are still a fe left-neat, attractive houses have appeared by the tens of thousands throughout the area, the families of oil-box shacks and flour-bag clothes being replaced by modestly but smartly dressed men, women, and children, living in modern dwellings, expressing the results of better education and a growing pride in a more dignified civilization. In many places, government has been active in housing plans, but I feel, in the main, that government activity has been supplemental to a normal desire for better living. It is interesting to look at recent figures for exports from the United States to the area served by Alcoa. In 1939, exports fom progress with each passing year, they become fine examples of what can and has happened through wise planning and enterprise. It does not contribute to an easy solution that the largely under- developed area we call the Caribbean is logically a geographical entity, but one which in actuality is an eclectic potpourri of widely differing political units. With but one or two exceptions, it is not in the tradition of these islands and countries to show a favorable trade balance. And so in effect there is a constant scrambling to get and stay ahead of the game, a sort of perpetual deficit financing. For most of the units of this territory, it can be said that there is no security in the one-crop agricultural economy they have cultivated--or inherited. In a day of complete absentee ownership and no labor costs, the system worked after a fashion, but now with so many wagons hitched to one star, we have the anomaly of a seventeenth- and eighteenth-century economy beset with twentieth-century com- plexities and desires. Each year the population of this area swells, and at the same time its great potential as a consumer market increases. I have often heard the casual visitor to the Caribbean comment, on his mturn to this country, on the poverty and low standard of living found in the Caribbean. Comments of this kind are always relative and certainly may be justified when American standards are used, but anyone who has known the Caribbean for the last forty years, as I have, is constantly amazed at the rise in standards during these decades, and particularly in the last ten years. Where shacks made of kerosene oil boxes were an accepted type of residence years ago-and I am sorry to say there are still a few left-neat, attractive houses have appeared by the tens of thousands throughout the area, the families of oil-box shacks and flour-bag clothes being replaced by modestly but smartly dressed men, women, and children, living in modern dwellings, expressing the results of better education and a growing pride in a more dignified civilization. In many places, government has been active in housing plans, but I feel, in the main, that government activity has been supplemental to a normal desire for better living. It is interesting to look at recent figures for exports from the United States to the area served by Alcoa. In 1939, exports from  TRADE 81 TRADE 81 the United States amoanted to about one qpuartee ef a million dollars; in 1949, the figure had eisen o sovaer a billion dollars. The purchase of American goods in practically ecery category eose ncely 300 pee cent dating that period. Is is particulaly inteeting to find that in machinery and cehiclet, if one at- cop ts these commodities as batic factors in the Ameae soap of life, the enporss feom the United States to the area increased ocve500per etduingsthetastdcad. Itsistreothnaafai- perentage of increate in imports may ho anigned to oil decelop- meet in Venezuela, and that a numbertof islands ae saffes-ing froam ocerpopalation and limited meant foe prodecing wealth. Yet, in spite of pessimism expesned by tome economists, I have little doubt shoe, gicen unrestricted teade nbehet by exchange conteols and limited sworld supply of goods, the Caribbean scould hace shown teven greater progress sinceemy alier days shere; and ceetainly shere is ample promise of a golden eta as the futne unfolds. Of course no Caribbean eelt is going to progress very much if it depends ensirely 000 anoutside influence to help is along. It mot have the woillingnens, and the spirit and the flee, to workh wcithio, and to nse swhat outside opporsanity is offeced. And bee isswherelIseoeeal hope foreCaiban. Fornmysrtcent tips there, itseemsto me thattheeis an emergencenof aconsciousness of the necessity of enterprise, al a local bnsiness aptitnde, and of aniceaigappeciation of the hoed goodt identified with a high standard of living. This consciotsess is being visibly en- pressed by numerouss indussrial plants springing up. in all pars of the Caribbean-some to meet local needs, othens to compete in wcorld macbets. Recent industrial decelopmentt include cement, beet, papee, bottles, time recordec machints, floes- procesting, and textilet. Many of the cones ace togaged in publicity campaigns ensolliog theit Ion cost virtet and pleasant enoioments in an effort to a ttract industrial plantt feom the United States and Canada. II The backgrousnd of the present peoples of the Car-ibbean has been the subject of many stedies, because in that asrta, in contrast she United States amossnted to ahout one qnar-ter of a milion dollacs; in 1949, the figure had rlton so oer a billion dollars. The parchase of Amseican goods in practically evccy category cost ocacly 3fS pee cent dnring that period. Is is particlaly inter-esting to find that in machioery aod cehicles, if oneac ceps these commodities as basic factors in she American way of life, she enports from she United Stases so the as-ca incr-eased ocve500poercent dnringthe latdecad. Itistueethat a fair percentage of mets-ate its impacts may be assigned toaoil develop- ment inVeezaaela, andthata nmberofislandsaretsffeing fom overpopsulation and limited means foe producing wealth. Yes, in spite of pessimism expressed by some economists, I bane little donht that, gicen anrtreicted seade unbeset by echange controls and limited world supply of goods, the Caribbean woald have shamnevcon greatrpogress sinceemy ealiercdays there; and certainly there is ample promise of a golden tera as the fate anfolds. Of conss no Casibbean nit is going to progrserymuch if is depends entiely an an oatside inflauence so help is along. It mast have the willingesn, and she splisi and she flee, to wos- within, and teems what oatside opportenity is offeted. And bee is whers-I see teat hope for the Caribbean. Fortonmytecent tips there, is seems so me that shee is an emes-gone of acosiuns of thc oceonity of enerprhse, of a local business aptitude, and of an incrmasing appreciasion of the hoed goeds identified wish a high standard of living. This consciouness is being visibly en- pressed hy numeroes industrial plants springing up, in. all pacts of the Caribbean-some so meet local needs, ashens tocompete in was-Id matrkcts. Recent indastrial developments include cement, beet, paper, bottles, time weosde- machints, flouc ps-ocessing, and texsiles. Many of she canes-ss ate engaged in peblicity campaigns s-toffing their- low cost virtues and pleasant enoiconments in an efface to attract industrial plants from she United Stases and Canada. dI The hachgr-ound of the present peoples of she Caribbean has been the subject of many studies, because in that aea, in s-ants-ass TRADE 01 the United States amouned to aboet one quarter of amilo dalla-s; in 1949, she figare had risen to ace- a billion dollan. The purchaseo f Americans goods in practically every eeategs- ease neatly 300 pee et dating that period. Is is par-siculaly interesting to find that in machiey and vehicles, if one ac- cepts theme commodities as basic factors in the American way of life, the enporss Item she United Seames en the area increased overe500lper-cent during telatecade. Is isstreethatsafair percentage of increast in impacts may ho assigned tooil deve-lop- moos in Venezuela, and that a nuer o-f islands ar-esffer-ing Is-em oerpopalation and limited means foe producing wealth. Yes, in spite of pessimism expessed by some econosts, I have little doabt that, fivtensunrstrted trade nbteset by echange enmols and limited world supply of goods, the Catibbean would have shown coon gceateprogrgcssice myoearlierdaysttheret;and certainly thee is ample promise of a golden eta as the fate enfolds. Of course no Caribbean unit is goingo proagess er much if is depends enticely on an ousside iefleence to help it along. Is mast hace she willingness, and she spirti and the flee, Ia work within, and to ue what outsideoapportsaniy is offerod. And bee is whsee eet rat hope foeCaibbea. Foon mytrcens trips thee,itseomsto meshatstheesanemegenecef a conscioness of she necessity of enterpise, al a local basinens aptitude, and of an inceasing appecition of the har-d goods identified with a high standard of living. This consciousness is being oisibly en- pesed by namecoas indstr-ial plants sptinging up. in all pacts of the Caribbe-an-some to meet local needs, asher-s tocompete in world macbeets. Recent indestrial developments include cement, bee-, papas-, hassles, time rcoosdee machines, Saner processing, and tentil-s. Many of the ceotries ace engaged in publicity campaigns ensolling sheir low eat virtues and pleasant envirmnmens in an effort so attract indutrial plants from the United Stases and Canada. II The backgrouend of the-presenspeoples of theCaibbean has been she sebject of many studies, because in that area, in cent-ast  82 The Caribbean to most world areas, it is difficult to find amongst the popula- tion what would truly be a "native." Every race and every na- tionality have contributed to the population from all over Eumpe, Africa, India, the Near and Far East. The peoples who could be considered as natives, the Caribs and the Arawaks, have long since become a memory, destroyed by an invasion over the past few centuries of more numerous and sturdy immigrants. The national strains which up to now appear to have held on to their original dominance are the French, the British, and to some extent the Dutch, with some Spanish strongholds in Cuba and Puerto Rico and particularly on the mainland of South America. The most dominant strain of all, however, is that which originated with the involuntary immigrants from Africa. The British and the Spanish kept more or less to the lands taken over by their mother countries, but the French families moved and spread as opportunity and circumstances permitted; throughout the Caribbean, French surnames are found, many of the families being traced back to emigration from Martinique and Guadeloupe because of volcanic and hurricane disasters. Throughout the Leeward and Windward Islands is found the only language which bypasses the national language of the island concerned-patois, basically French, but with a smattering of Spanish, English, and words of local origin. The only indication, except perhaps for color of skin, of African influence is the sound and rhythm of the local music. This music is commonly referred to as "Calypso," and I do not think any authority would disagree with my belief that it stems from the old- time singing fireside reports given the tribes by messengers and nomads in various parts of Africa. From all this national and racial vortex is slowly arising what could be accepted as a new race of people, their skins an indi- cation of their African and Eastern origin, their outlook an ex- pression of the shrewd, enterprising, and freedom-loving nature of many of their forebears who were responsible for their present environment. Several illustrations will indicate something of the racial mixtures in the Caribbean which I think are of pertinent interest. Of Surinam, or Dutch Guiana, it is said that the Dutch received it in exchange for Manhattan Island. I do not know how the Dutch feel about the exchange now, but at least we can be glad 82 The Caribbean to most world areas, it is difficult to find amongst the popula- tion what would truly be a "native." Every race and every na- tionality have contributed to the population from all over Europe, Africa, India, the Near and Far East. The peoples who could be considered as natives, the Caribs and the Arawaks, have long since become a memory, destroyed by an invasion over the past few centuries of more numerous and sturdy immigrants. The national strains which up to now appear to have held on to their original dominance are the French, the British, and to some extent the Dutch, with some Spanish strongholds in Cuba and Puerto Rico and particularly on the mainland of South America. The most dominant strain of all, however, is that which originated with the involuntary immigrants from Africa. The British and the Spanish kept more or less to the lands taken over by their mother countries, but the French families moved and spread as opportunity and circumstances permitted; throughout the Caribbean, French surnames are found, many of the families being traced back to emigration from Martinique and Guadeloupe because of volcanic and hurricane disasters. Throughout the Leeward and Windward Islands is found the only language which bypasses the national language of the island concerned-patois, basically French, but with a smattering of Spanish, English, and words of local origin. The only indication, except perhaps for color of skin, of African influence is the sound and rhythm of the local music. This music is commonly referred to as "Calypso," and I do not think any authority would disagree with my belief that it stems from the old- time singing fireside reports given the tribes by messengers and nomads in various parts of Africa. From all this national and racial vortex is slowly arising what could be accepted as a new race of people, their skins an indi- cation of their African and Eastern origin, their outlook an ex- pression of the shrewd, enterprising, and freedom-loving nature of many of their forebears who were responsible for their present environment. Several illustrations will indicate something of the racial mixtures in the Caribbean which I think are of pertinent interest. Of Surinam, or Dutch Guiana, it is said that the Dutch received it in exchange for Manhattan Island. I do not know how the Dutch feel about the exchange now, but at least we can be glad 82 The Caribbean to most world areas, it is difficult to find amongst the popula- tion what would truly be a "native." Every race and every na- tionality have contributed to the population from all over Europe, Africa, India, the Near and Far East. The peoples who could be considered as natives, the Caribs and the Arawaks, have long since become a memory, destroyed by an invasion over the past few centuries of more numerous and sturdy immigrants. The national strains which up to now appear to have held on to their original dominance are the French, the British, and to some extent the Dutch, with some Spanish strongholds in Cuba and Puerto Rico and particularly on the mainland of South America. The most dominant strain of all, however, is that which originated with the involuntary immigrants from Africa. The British and the Spanish kept more or less to the lands taken over by their mother countries, but the French families moved and spread as opportunity and circumstances permitted; throughout the Caribbean, French surnames are found, many of the families being traced back to emigration from Martinique and Guadeloupe because of volcanic and hurricane disasters. Throughout the Leeward and Windward Islands is found the only language which bypasses the national language of the island concerned-patois, basically French, but with a smattering of Spanish, English, and words of local origin. The only indication, except perhaps for color of skin, of African influence is the sound and rhythm of the local music. This music is commonly referred to as "Calypso," and I do not think any authority would disagree with my belief that it stems from the old- time singing fireside reports given the tribes by messengers and nomads in various parts of Africa. From all this national and racial vortex is slowly arising what could be accepted as a new race of people, their skins an indi- cation of their African and Eastern origin, their outlook an ex- pression of the shrewd, enterprising, and freedom-loving nature of many of their forebears who were responsible for their present environment. Several illustrations will indicate something of the racial mixtures in the Caribbean which I think are of pertinent interest. Of Surinam, or Dutch Guiana, it is said that the Dutch received it in exchange for Manhattan Island. I do not know how the Dutch feel about the exchange now, but at least we can be glad  TRADE 83 TRADE 83 TRADE that Surinam went to friendly hands in view of the contribution that country makes to our aluminum industry through supplies of bauxite ore. It is interesting, too, that only in Surinam were the Negro slaves brought from Africa able to establish their own free- dom. Even today they live as their forebears did in Africa and still collect a bounty from the Dutch for keeping the peace. Saba, and part of St. Martin's island, in the Leewards, with practically no change, have always been under the Dutch flag, and yet the population there speaks English. Saba is apparently an extinct volcano, the only habitations being on the top within the old crater, seven hundred feet above sea level. The name of the town is The Bottom. Napoleon is reported to have once said of Tobago that with this island he could control the Caribbean, and probably the Americas. In Trinidad many Portuguese are found. One story about their origin is that some converts of a Church of Scotland missionary in Portugal many years ago, suffering from religious persecution, found their way to Trinidad and formed a branch of the church there; the oldest Presbyterian church in Trinidad is said to be their original structure. It is known as St. Ann's Church of Scotland. III No comments on the Caribbean would be complete without men- tion of politics. Except for communistic and monarchic states, I doubt if one could find anywhere else in the world such good ex- amples, with varying degrees of excellence, of every type of govern- ment the world has to offer. Although there are some signs here and there of extremist tendencies, there appears to be no indication of communism, even in the French islands which are represented in Paris as departments of France by so-called communist electives. The colonial crown-colony system is definitely of the past, with all the colonies emerging with self-determined constitutions; and there is much talk of confederation, particularly among the British. The older political systems found in Haiti, the Dominican Republic, and Venezuela appear to be leaving their growing pains behind as com- mercial and cultural conditions improve. that Surinam went to friendly hands in view of the contribution that country makes to our aluminum industry through supplies of bauxite ore. It is interesting, too, that only in Surinam were the Negro slaves brought from Africa able to establish their own free- dom. Even today they live as their forebears did in Africa and still collect a bounty from the Dutch for keeping the peace. Saba, and part of St. Martin's island, in the Leewards, with practically no change, have always been under the Dutch flag, and yet the population there speaks English. Saba is apparently an extinct volcano, the only habitations being on the top within the old crater, seven hundred feet above sea level. The name of the town is The Bottom. Napoleon is reported to have once said of Tobago that with this island he could control the Caribbean, and probably the Americas. In Trinidad many Portuguese are found. One story about their origin is that some converts of a Church of Scotland missionary in Portugal many years ago, suffering from religious persecution, found their way to Trinidad and formed a branch of the church there; the oldest Presbyterian church in Trinidad is said to be their original structure. It is known as St. Ann's Church of Scotland. III No comments on the Caribbean would be complete without men- tion of politics. Except for communistic and monarchic states, I doubt if one could find anywhere else in the world such good ex- amples, with varying degrees of excellence, of every type of govern- ment the world has to offer. Although there are some signs here and there of extremist tendencies, there appears to be no indication of communism, even in the French islands which are represented in Paris as departments of France by so-called communist electives. The colonial crown-colony system is definitely of the past, with all the colonies emerging with self-determined constitutions; and there is much talk of confederation, particularly among the British. The older political systems found in Haiti, the Dominican Republic, and Venezuela appear to be leaving their growing pains behind as com- mercial and cultural conditions improve. that Surinam went to friendly hands in view of the contribution that country makes to our aluminum industry through supplies of bauxite ore. It is interesting, too, that only in Surinam were the Negro slaves brought from Africa able to establish their own free- dom. Even today they live as their forebears did in Africa and still collect a bounty from the Dutch for keeping the peace. Saba, and part of St. Martin's island, in the Leewards, with practically no change, have always been under the Dutch flag, and yet the population there speaks English. Saba is apparently an extinct volcano, the only habitations being on the top within the old crater, seven hundred feet above sea level. The name of the town is The Bottom. Napoleon is reported to have once said of Tobago that with this island he could control the Caribbean, and probably the Americas. In Trinidad many Portuguese are found. One story about their origin is that some converts of a Church of Scotland missionary in Portugal many years ago, suffering from religious persecution, found their way to Trinidad and formed a branch of the church there; the oldest Presbyterian church in Trinidad is said to be their original structure. It is known as St. Ann's Church of Scotland. III No comments on the Caribbean would be complete without men- tion of politics. Except for communistic and monarchic states, I doubt if one could find anywhere else in the world such good ex- amples, with varying degrees of excellence, of every type of govern- ment the world has to offer. Although there are some signs here and there of extremist tendencies, there appears to be no indication of communism, even in the French islands which are represented in Paris as departments of France by so-called communist electives. The colonial crown-colony system is definitely of the past, with all the colonies emerging with self-determined constitutions; and there is much talk of confederation, particularly among the British. The older political systems found in Haiti, the Dominican Republic, and Venezuela appear to be leaving their growing pains behind as com- mercial and cultural conditions improve.  84 The Caribbean IV I have beets associated weith soe oef the activities of the Carib- bean Commeittian, swhich teat initiated at the Anglo-Atmeritan Caeibbean Comatittion bat sehith nowa emabraces all national in- teestts in the Caribbean. Althaugh msainly advisory, the studies and recnsmnendations produced by the cosnnission haee been and stll ate of ennotnent vaine In the aeea. Ta anyone insteested in the Caribbean, the coansiin's reports swill he foend tn inclade stndies on practitally every yhate nf life in the aeea. At a result of one of the Caribbean Comsision'stcommsnenda tint, the Caribbean Interinm Taaisms Ceosmittee wsea founded twen years age. Although all coantres in the Caribbean bane net yet joinedtshcommittee,stheeare atpesenttele indiidal e- beet scathing through an Enecutive Commsittee and Advisory Board in Nest Yoah to being about monee develnpmnent of stursm in the aea. The Caribbean it fat beconsing the Mediteatanean tf the Aerei- eat at a tenanst attraction. Ta tonism the region can lath at n tf the outttanding yessibilitiet of developmeent. Ther arae no exaat tatittict acailable, hat saone idea can he gained fartm the figuras publithad by the Department of Commeree lea the Watt tndiet and Censral Ameria: In 1949, theta state 271,000 visitors, swith enpenditaaes ettinsated at $53,000,000; and in 1950, tense 323,000 vititors tpent $60,000,000, an incease nof 20 pan cant in one year. I beast of no area in the saorld wahera tee can bend the variety of lining tn he found in the Caribbean, lanem modeen lueurious hotelt to the qniet teclution nof a cttage en a palms-fringed beach. Blueskies andtcomfortingstemperaturetsarethe rale; evenstheery occational stortms sehich meake the headlines in America at certain timseseofshe yeareareseldome as severeasheeaherwetsomntsimes experietnce in this teentry. The people ate feiendly, hotpitable, ansd eager to mseet visitort, so I hope that all of yea swill incalude in youre ftutte plant a lengthy vitit to the Caribbean. 84 The Caribbean 84 The Caribbean IV~ I have been associated wcith setme of the activities of the Carib- bean Commnissiotn, schich wsca initiated astshe Anglo-Ameraican Catibbean Comssioin hat wahich nsc tesbraces all natinal in- teettsintha Caribbean. Althoegh tmainly advisory, she studies and recommendainspodcedhby thetcommissionnhavetbeen and still ate nof enoetmous value tn the aea. Ta anynea interetad in the Caribbean, the commeissin's reports scill he found to include studies en practically natty phate nof lilt in the aea. At eslteofeneote CaibenCommisstin'serescmmnda- tins, the Caribbean Intetim Touisms Cotmmittaewsca meunded tsco yeas age. Although all countries in the Caribbean bananast yet joined this committee, theta ate at pesent twaelve individual mem- heat scathing thaough an Exeautive Commsittee and Advisory Board in Newt Yeah In bring about moe developente of tourism in thear. The Caribbean it last beeoming the Mediteranean of the Amneri- csas a taourist attrationn. Ta touaitsm the aegion can lath as ant of she ousetanding possibilities of developent. Thate ae no texat stasistias available, hat same idea can be gained Item the fignats published by the Department of Comeeset fee the West Indies and Genteel America: In 1949, theta state 271,000 nisisore, waith expendituestestimated as $53,000,000; and in 1950, sense 323,000 visitors spent $00,000,000, an incease a1 20 pee tent in one yeara. 1 bensw of no aea in the worald saheat one can bend the variety nof living en be found in the Caribbean, fromsemodern luxuriout basalt to the quiet seclasion nof a cottage en a palms-finged heath. Blat tkies and comsfoeting temsperatues ate the rale; avn the very occasional stormsswhich make the headlines in Ameica at cerain tiest of the yeas ate seldom at tevee at the sceather sat somsetimes experience in this contry. The people ate friendly, hospitable, and eager to meet visitors, so I hope that all nof yea will include in year fuase plans a lengthy visis In the Caribbean. IV' b ane been asciated waith same of the activities of the Carib- bean Committion, wahich wsca initiated at the Anglo-Aeriecan Caribbean Coesmisain bet wch nest embaces all national in- teretssin the Catibbean. Although mainly advisory, the stadiet and recoeseendations peoduced by the comsmission bane been end still ae nof enormosus value In the antea. Ta anyne intearested in the Caribbean, she comsmission's repors still be foand so include tudies en practitally every phate of life in thear. As a resultofneoflthCaibanCmmissinsecommenda- tins, the Caaibbean Inteties Touaism Comesittee wsta founded Isco yeart age. Although all countaiet in she Catibbean hae net yet joined this committee, these ae at pesant Itwelve individual meem- bers workhing throutgh an Executive Cosmmittee and Advisory Board in Nest Yeah In being abous moe developmens of tourisms in thear. The Garihhean is last becoming the Meditertanean nof the Amerti- tee as a touraist attactio~n. Ta teethsm the regin can lath as ant nof the outtanding possibilities nof developent. Therate no texat ttatisties anailable, bet same idea tan he gained lanes the figuess publishted by the Dlepartmsent of Commerte lea she Wet Indies and Genteel America: In 1940, theta state 271,000 visisors, waish enpenditures estimated at $07,000,000; and in 1950, sense 323,000 asetoes spent $60,000,000, an incetase of 20 pe at e in one yea. I beast of no antea in the woreld wchete oe can fied she variesy oflibeing tn be found in she Caribbean, from moadern luxurious battle In she gait seclusion of a cottage an a pales-fainged heath. Blat shies and comforting temsperatures aet the tale; teven the vety occational steams whbich make the headlines in Aerica at ereain times nof the yearae seldoms as senate as she weashee see someties texperenceeinsthiscounty. The people ate faiendly, hospitable, end eagsrto meet visitos, so I hope that all nof yea will include in yeas fature plans a lengthy alsit to the Caribbean.  9C George Wythe: INTERNATIONAL TRADE IN THE CARIBBEAN AREA TO STUDENTS of inteettatiotnal comtmerce the very tnttiotn of the Caribbean eeoket long vistat of history, titnce the Atmer-ican mtiddle tea, tike its prototype in the Old Weetd, hot heen ene of the chief patht ef nrade foe centurie. Net enty woat it the chief ar-tery of comernece for the Spanith colonial emapire, but this region woat liketoite ef pivotal itoetaoce int the teade ef the decveloping NorthAtoerican coleniet. Aftereatetpoayecipce dturing the nineteenthecentuey, thelathaf-centuy hascotneted acigoeottt renaistance theonghout the Carihbean area. It it a ctelking foot that the Caribbhean region today occupiet relatively jatt aboot the tame petition in one foreign trade at in the eaely yeart of our hittory, that it, it peocidet ahoat one-fifth of the total value of United Stotet imports and tahet the tame pr- poetion of onrexcports. Of coaurte, the c-elaine hat incease-d enoemoutly at popalation and peoductivity have expanded. The competition of the teode rovealt impettive similarities at melt at intportant changet. Hittoricotly the arma hat heen faoen foe teopicol prodace and preciout metols. Fee moe then fnue centaiettsugarecanehastheen the pincipaleeop;sag,molase, and rmm ae still majoe articlet of enpoet, althoagh they no longer hoot the political end steategic tignifieanee they enjoyed doting the seventeenth end eighteenth contacties. Gold and silver aretstill important itetmt hat they hace yielded the steellar tale to a paecvenu among ecotnoditiet, the hioch gold of petroeumt. Latt pear the Caribeanaea prodced 671millionhbaels ofcrde petoeumn, 85 George Wythe: INTERNATIONAL TRADE IN THE CARIBBEAN AREA To STUDENTS of inteenational comme-ce the very mention of the Carihbean evohet long vitos of histoty, tince the Amoetican middle tea, like its peototype in the Old Woeld, hat heen one of the chief potht of teade foe centues. Not only coot it the chief ateryof commeeceforethe Sponhsh coloniol empire, hat this regin coat likecoite of pivotol impoetance in the teade of the dec-eloping NorthAmneeican coloniet. Afteatempor-aryecipse dating the nineteenth century, the lat holf-century has witnensed a vigoroat renaitsanee throaghont the Coribbeon on-a. lt it a steiking foci thoc the Caribbean rogion today occapies rolatioely jutt aouot the tome petition in one foeeign Ic-ode at in the eetly peons of oue history, that is, it providet aboot one-fifth of the totol value of United Stoac-c impoets and tahet the same pee- poetion of oat expoen. Of coaurte, the c-ame hat inceased enormouatly at popuaotion and peodactiity hoc-c eopanded. The competition of the ic-ode ree-ats impestivt timilar-itiet at coeliatimportant chnget. Histoicaly thearea hasbeen famous foe teopicol produce and peeciout inc-ait. Fee moe than feat centurie sugacae hatheen the pincipal crop;taga,molase, and c-am ore nstl majorearticle of expoet, olthoagh they no longe- hoot the political and strategic tignificance they enjoyed dating the tev-enteenth and eighteenth centures. Gold and sic-c-c ate till impoetont itemst hot they hoc-c yielded the ttellar c-nit to a parvcena among commoditiet, the hlack gold of pc-etc-aem. Lat yeac- the Caribbean nea produced 671 million barrels of crude petnolatm, 85 George Wythe: INTERNATIONAL TRADE IN THE CARIBBEAN AREA To STUDENTS of inteenational commerce the vero mention of the Caerihbeon ec-ohet tong vitas of hitorey, tince the Atmerican middle tee, like its peototype in the Old World, hat heen one of the chief patht of trode forcetie. Notaonlycwa tthe chief artccer of commerce foe the Spanish coloniol empire, hot this region coos likecoise of pivotal importonce in the trade of the dec-eloping North Ameticon coloniet. Afe- a comporaoepeclipo dating the ntneteenth cetur-y, theltnhaf-century hatcwitnessed acigorouat enoinoance throghoat the Caribhean ac-ca. It it a ttiking foci thot the Catibhean n-glen today occopiet reltoiv-ely just aboat the tame petition in oat foreign trade at in the tely ye-aet of one hittoep, that is, it prov-idet ahoat one-fifth of the teol c-aloe of United Statest impor-ts and cakes the tame pr- portion of oat enpotst. Of courste, the c-elaine has ineatc-d enormoatly at popalation and peoductiv-ity have enpanded. The competition of the n-ado r-c-calst impessive timilartiiet at melt as importantchanget. Dittorically c-he aea hat fec-n famoat foe tr-opicol peodace and prcc-tea metalt. Foe mote than feat cenctiet togae cane has been the principaltcrmp; togae, molases, and tam ace till major arciclet of export, although they no longer have the political and strategic tignifieance they enjoyed dating the oeveneenhoandtighteenth ccnret.tGoldoandsilvearettill important itemst hat they have yielded the ttellar c-tie to a parvceno atnong eommodities, the hblack gold of pe-troleam. Last pc-a- the Caribbean area prodaced 671 million baelsn-ha cc-ode pc-etc-aem, 5  86 The Caribbean or 18 per cent of the world output. Although the larger part of this quantity is exported as crude or as products, local consumption is growing by leaps and bounds. The cacao plant is indigenous to this area, and first Mexico and then Venezuela were long the chief sources of its nutritious and flavorsome bean. Although other regions of the world now produce larger quantities, the Caribbean area is still an important source, especially of the finer grades. During the last decade, the Domini- can Republic, Colombia, Mexico, and some of the Central Ameri- can republics have expanded production. Coffee, although not a native, is grown throughout most of the Caribbean, which was the chief source of supply throughout the eighteenth century and well into the nineteenth. It is now the chief article of export from five or six of the republics and an important item in several others. . Specialization versus Diversification In most of the republics or colonies one or two items comprise the bulk of the export movement, but it would be a mistake to draw hasty conclusions from this fact. For one thing, there are exceptions to this rule. Mexico, for example, has long had a diversi- fied export trade, including metal bars and concentrates, crude and refined petroleum, raw fibers and their manufactures, manufactured and crude foodstuffs, handicrafts and some finished manufactures. Furthermore, in some of the countries where the exports are highly concentrated, as in Colombia, the internal economy is by no means lacking in diversity, and this shows up in an analysis of the import statistics. It is true, of course, that in the Caribbean area, as in other regions of the world, there is ample opportunity for diversification and improvement of agricultural and livestock production and for the establishment of industries supplying local needs or producing specialties for export, but the constructive ap- proach to this problem indicates the desirability of adding new sources of wealth rather than a policy of restricting existing pro- ductive activities. The larger countries have long had substantial manufacturing industries, and there has been rapid growth in this field during the last decade. Some idea of what is taking place is shown by the 86 The Caribbean 86 The Caribbean or 18 per cent of the world output. Although the larger part of this quantity is exported as crude or as products, local consumption is growing by leaps and bounds. The cacao plant is indigenous to this area, and first Mexico and then Venezuela were long the chief sources of its nutritious and flavorsome bean. Although other regions of the world now produce larger quantities, the Caribbean area is still an important source, especially of the finer grades. During the last decade, the Domini- can Republic, Colombia, Mexico, and some of the Central Ameri- can republics have expanded production. Coffee, although not a native, is grown throughout most of the Caribbean, which was the chief source of supply throughout the eighteenth century and well into the nineteenth. It is now the chief article of export from five or six of the republics and an important item in several others. 1. Specialization versus Diversification In most of the republics or colonies one or two items comprise the bulk of the export movement, but it would be a mistake to draw hasty conclusions from this fact. For one thing, there are exceptions to this rule. Mexico, for example, has long had a diversi- fied export trade, including metal bars and concentrates, crude and refined petroleum, raw fibers and their manufactures, manufactured and crude foodstuffs, handicrafts and some finished manufactures. Furthermore, in some of the countries where the exports are highly concentrated, as in Colombia, the internal economy is by no means lacking in diversity, and this shows up in an analysis of the import statistics. It is true, of course, that in the Caribbean area, as in other regions of the world, there is ample opportunity for diversification and improvement of agricultural and livestock production and for the establishment of industries supplying local needs or producing specialties for export, but the constructive ap- proach to this problem indicates the desirability of adding new sources of wealth rather than a policy of restricting existing pro- ductive activities. The larger countries have long had substantial manufacturing industries, and there has been rapid gmwth in this field during the last decade. Some idea of what is taking place is shown by the or 18 per cent of the world output. Although the larger part of this quantity is exported as crude or as products, local consumption is growing by leaps and bounds. The cacao plant is indigenous to this area, and first Mexico and then Venezuela were long the chief sources of its nutritious and flavorsome bean. Although other regions of the world now produce larger quantities, the Caribbean area is still an important source, especially of the finer grades. During the last decade, the Domini- can Republic, Colombia, Mexico, and some of the Central Ameri- can republics have expanded production. Coffee, although not a native, is grown throughout most of the Caribbean, which was the chief source of supply throughout the eighteenth century and well into the nineteenth. It is now the chief article of export from five or six of the republics and an important item in several others. 1. Specialization versus Diversification In most of the republics or colonies one or two items comprise the bulk of the export movement, but it would be a mistake to draw hasty conclusions from this fact. For one thing, there are exceptions to this rule. Mexico, for example, has long had a diversi- fied export trade, including metal bars and concentrates, crude and refined petroleum, raw fibers and their manufactures, manufactured and crude foodstuffs, handicrafts and some finished manufactures. Furthermore, in some of the countries where the exports are highly concentrated, as in Colombia, the internal economy is by no means lacking in diversity, and this shows up in an analysis of the import statistics. It is true, of course, that in the Caribbean area, as in other regions of the world, there is ample opportunity for diversification and improvement of agricultural and livestock production and for the establishment of industries supplying local needs or producing specialties for export, but the constructive ap- proach to this problem indicates the desirability of adding new sources of wealth rather than a policy of restricting existing pro- ductive activities. The larger countries have long had substantial manufacturing industries, and there has been rapid growth in this field during the last decade. Some idea of what is taking place is shown by the  TRADE 87 TRADE 87 expansion of electricity production. In Mexico, the largest and industrially most important of the countries, the monthly average production rose from 207 million kilowatt-hours in 1937 to 368 million in 1950. Colombia and Venezuela, starting from a lower base, showed larger relative increases: from 15.5 million to 58.7 million in Colombia, and from 8.8 million to 43.4 million in Venezuela. In some of the smaller countries the increase has been equally impressive. The principal industries of the area involve the grinding and refining of sugar, petroleum refining, and the smelting or reduction of metallic ores. Some of the world's largest and most efficient plants are located in this area. There is also a wide variety of activities embraced within the foodstuffs group of industries, most of which (other than sugar and rum) cater exclusively to national markets but some of which anr on n export basis, such as canned vegetables, fruit, and fish, and also hard candies. Also important are the textile industries, working with cotton, wool, rayon, jute, and hard fibers. Cotton is grown in most of this area and has been an article of export since early colonial times. The climate is less propitious for wool, but some local fleece as well as imported yarns are used. Four of the countries now produce some rayon filament or staple fiber. Jute is not produced, but cordage and sacks are made from native fibers. Furthermore, experiments with kenaf in Cuba and El Salvador give ground for expectation that this fiber may become an important jute substi- tute, provided mechanized decorticating processes are perfected. Since 1941 Central America has developed the production of abaci, for marine cordage, on an important scale. II. Geographic and Political Influences Obviously it is difficult to generalize about the trade of an area that includes many distinct political and geographic units which differ as greatly in size and resources as, say, Grenada and Mexico. Nevertheless, from a trade standpoint, their geographic location is a factor of outstanding importance, and the climate and geology of the area affect the nature of production, making it in many respects complementary to that of countries situated in the temperate zone. One geographic fact of importance is the proximity to the expansion of electricity production. In Mexico, the largest and industrially most important of the countries, the monthly average production rose from 207 million kilowatt-hours in 1937 to 368 million in 1950. Colombia and Venezuela, starting from a lower base, showed larger relative increases: from 15.5 million to 58.7 million in Colombia, and from 8.8 million to 43.4 million in Venezuela. In some of the smaller countries the increase has been equally impressive. The principal industries of the area involve the grinding and refining of sugar, petroleum refining, and the smelting or reduction of metallic ores. Some of the world's largest and most efficient plants are located in this area. There is also a wide variety of activities embraced within the foodstuffs group of industries, most of which (other than sugar and rum) cater exclusively to national markets but some of which are on an export basis, such as canned vegetables, fruit, and fish, and also hard candies. Also important are the textile industries, working with cotton, wool, rayon, jute, and hard fibers. Cotton is grown in most of this area and has been an article of export since early colonial times. The climate is less propitious for wool, but some local fleece as well as imported yarns are used. Four of the countries now produce some rayon filament or staple fiber. Jute is not produced, but cordage and sacks are made from native fibers. Furthermore, experiments with kenaf in Cuba and El Salvador give ground for expectation that this fiber may become an important jute substi- tute, provided mechanized decorticating processes are perfected. Since 1941 Central America has developed the production of abaci, for marine cordage, on an important scale. II. Geographic and Political Influences Obviously it is difficult to generalize about the trade of an area that includes many distinct political and geographic units which differ as greatly in size and resources as, say, Grenada and Mexico. Nevertheless, from a trade standpoint, their geographic location is a factor of outstanding importance, and the climate and geology of the area affect the nature of production, making it in many respects complementary to that of countries situated in the temperate zone. One geographic fact of importance is the proximity to the TRADE u/ expansion of electricity production. In Mexico, the largest and industrially most important of the countries, the monthly average production rose from 207 million kilowatt-hours in 1937 to 368 million in 1950. Colombia and Venezuela, starting from a lower base, showed larger relative increases: from 15.5 million to 58.7 million in Colombia, and from 8.8 million to 43.4 million in Venezuela. In some of the smaller countries the increase has been equally impressive. The principal industries of the area involve the grinding and refining of sugar, petroleum refining, and the smelting or reduction of metallic ores. Some of the world's largest and most efficient plants are located in this area. There is also a wide variety of activities embraced within the foodstuffs group of industries, most of which (other than sugar and rum) cater exclusively to national markets but some of which are on an export basis, such as canned vegetables, fruit, and fish, and also hard candies. Also important are the textile industries, working with cotton, wool, rayon, jute, and hard fibers. Cotton is grown in most of this area and has been an article of export since early colonial times. The climate is less propitious for wool, but some local fleece as well as imported yarns are used. Four of the countries now produce some rayon filament or staple fiber. Jute is not produced, but cordage and sacks are made from native fibers. Furthermore, experiments with kenaf in Cuba and El Salvador give ground for expectation that this fiber may become an important jute substi- tute, provided mechanized decorticating processes are perfected. Since 1941 Central America has developed the production of abaci, for marine cordage, on an important scale. II. Geographic and Political Influences Obviously it is difficult to generalize about the trade of an area that includes many distinct political and geographic units which differ as greatly in size and resources as, say, Grenada and Mexico. Nevertheless, from a trade standpoint, their geographic location is a factor of outstanding importance, and the climate and geology of the area affect the nature of production, making it in many respects complementary to that of countries situated in the temperate zone. One geographic fact of importance is the proximity to the  88 The Caribbean 88 The Caribbean 88 The Caribbean United States, the world's leading economic powerhouse, and another is the location of the area in relation to the Isthmus of Panama. This latter point, coupled with the direction of the prevailing trade winds, was vital during colonial days, became less significant during the nineteenth century, and again came to the fore with the opening of the Panama Canal. Mexico is the only country under consideration that has a common land frontier with the United States; and trade between the two countries has expanded greatly since rail connections between Mexico City and the United States were completed in 1888. The political factor also carries some weight in the trade picture, as is seen most clearly in the case of the French West Indies and French Guiana, which since the war have been made French de partments and apply the metropolitan import duties. Most of theis exports go to France or other French possessions, and likewise the bulk of the imports normally come from France, although they were provisioned during the war by the United States and other American states. The islands continue to obtain from the United States some machinery and parts as well as, at times, some food- stuffs, and petroleum products. The Dutch territories (Surinam and the Netherlands West Indies), on the other hand, follow a liberal tariff policy and accord no preferences. The refining of Venezuelan crude petroleum is one of the major activities of the Netherlands Indies. The deriva- tives go to various European and Western Hemisphere countries. The United States has a large share of the trade of the Dutch possessions, but Canada, the United Kingdom, and the Netherlands are also important. The British possessions are embraced in the Empire preference system, so that goods from British Commonwealth sources ace subject to duties about 50 per cent lower than the general tariff. In addition to the normal tariff preferences, British Commonwealth exporters receive advantages from the operations of the exchange control systems. Foreign exchange operations in the various pos- sessions are controlled by local boards which, in accordance with policy directives from London, normally only issue import licenses involving dollar remittances when the goods are not obtainable in the United Kingdom or other soft-currency areas. Both Canada and the United States are affected by these restrictions. Effective United States, the world's leading economic powerhouse, and another is the location of the area in relation to the Isthmus of Panama. This latter point, coupled with the direction of the prevailing trade winds, was vital during colonial days, became less significant during the nineteenth century, and again came to the fore with the opening of the Panama Canal. Mexico is the only country under consideration that has a common land frontier with the United States; and trade between the two countries has expanded greatly since rail connections between Mexico City and the United States were completed in 1888. The political factor also carries some weight in the trade picture, as is seen most clearly in the case of the French West Indies and French Guiana, which since the war have been made French de. partments and apply the metropolitan import duties. Most of their exports go to France or other French possessions, and likewise the bulk of the imports normally come from France, although they were provisioned during the war by the United States and other American states. The islands continue to obtain from the United States some machinery and parts as well as, at times, some food- stuffs, and petroleum products. The Dutch territories (Surinam and the Netherlands West Indies), on the other hand, follow a liberal tariff policy and accord no preferences. The refining of Venezuelan crude petroleum is one of the major activities of the Netherlands Indies. The deriva- tives go to various European and Western Hemisphere countries. The United States has a large share of the trade of the Dutch possessions, but Canada, the United Kingdom, and the Netherlands are also important. The British possessions are embraced in the Empire preference system, so that goods from British Commonwealth sources are subject to duties about 50 per cent lower than the general tariff. In addition to the normal tariff preferences, British Commonwealth exporters receive advantages from the operations of the exchange control systems. Foreign exchange operations in the various pos- sessions are controlled by local boards which, in accordance with policy directives from London, normally only issue import licenses involving dollar remittances when the goods are not obtainable in the United Kingdom or other soft-currency areas. Both Canada and the United States are affected by these restrictions. Effective United States, the world's leading economic powerhouse, and another is the location of the area in relation to the Isthmus of Panama. This latter point, coupled with the direction of the prevailing trade winds, was vital during colonial days, became less significant during the nineteenth century, and again came to the fore withthe opening of the Panama Canal. Mexico is the only country under consideration that has a common land frontier with the United States; and trade between the two countries has expanded greatly since rail connections between Mexico City and the United States were completed in 1888. The political factor also carries some weight in the trade picture, as is seen most clearly in the case of the French West Indies and French Guiana, which since the war have been made French de. partments and apply the metropolitan import duties. Most of thei1 exports go to France or other French possessions, and likewise the bulk of the imports normally come from France, although they were provisioned during the war by the United States and other American states. The islands continue to obtain from the United States some machinery and parts as well as, at times, some food- stuffs, and petroleum products. The Dutch territories (Surinam and the Netherlands West Indies), on the other hand, follow a liberal tariff policy and accord no preferences. The refining of Venezuelan crude petroleum is one of the major activities of the Netherlands Indies. The deriva- tives go to various European and Western Hemisphere countries. The United States has a large share of the trade of the Dutch possessions, but Canada, the United Kingdom, and the Netherlands are also important. The British possessions are embraced in the Empire preference system, so that goods from British Commonwealth sources are subject to duties about 50 per cent lower than the general tariff. In addition to the normal tariff preferences, British Commonwealth exporters receive advantages from the operations of the exchange control systems. Foreign exchange operations in the various pos- sessions are controlled by local boards which, in accordance with policy directives from London, normally only issue import licenses involving dollar remittances when the goods are not obtainable in the United Kingdom or other soft-currency areas. Both Canada and the United States are affected by these restrictions. Effective  TRADE TE89 TRADE 89 TRADE Jaooary 1, 1951, additional dolloe exchooge oas otade atailable to peromitlitoited itopoets, onta qootaobasis,ofeleted commoodities torerely eloded. Both Caoodiao and Unoited States eoporters weehetped by thie trade tiheratizatioo plao proportiooate to the ratio of their trade io thesecommoodities doring the hate years. It is asooted that the ptan will he cootinoed aod probably to- paoded doting 1952. Geoerally speakiog, the expoets of the British Carihheao terei- toreseereceie prefereoces io she moarkets of Caoada aod the United Kiogdoom, aod eoome products, cotobty togas, are haodled on the both poechasesyttemo. Althoagh the Ucited States does oot take any sogar feom tese teeritoiesit is a good omarket foresoch shiogs at cacao beans, vaousoo spices, chicle, moahogooy loge, aod oatoeal asphalt-alt of wchich entee duty-fee in the Unoited Statet. III. Rodoctioo of Coboc Peefeeeon0 U. S. Goods Eoccptiog Uoited Stotoes possessioos, Coba is the only Caeribbean country oeteeritory havingpeferentiol tariffetlationsewith the United Stotes, ood these pefcereoesbooe beta redoed suostatiolly eiocc 1947. to thot ycar, at the flest negotiating sessioo of the GeneatAgeemenetoTrifsand Trade, heldoat Geneva, a geoneoal ageeent was reachbed thot the eoisting peefereotiolmr gins granted by the coctractiog paetles weoold not ho ioeeeased, ood fotheroeeoiationsooere oodeetokeo to eedoce 00elm inate the prefereotiol maorgins on specific toariff items by eaos of cocsin nthe most-faored-oation eatee of doty. Negotiotiont ewithio the fraeoorok of the Geoneoal Ageeenet, ot Geoevo (1947), ot Aooocy (1949), ood ot Torqooy (1950-1951) resealted ioeredoctioo (oreeliominatioo) ofotooy pefereoees inothe Uoited Stotee-Cuao trode ogreemoeot shot peeiooely hod beto operative only beteen the two coooties. Doriog the cooree of this yeae, Cuba hoe coocloded ogeetoct scith the Uoised Kiogdoto, Coood,oondWeere Geotooytchiehohavofoetheeredoced oe elimoiooted the prefeeotiot odvootogee peoioodly eojoyed by Uoised Stotee peodocts 10 the Cohoo omorhes. Thee ogreemtst hoot cot yet beeo io effect long eoogh so worroot ooy tpeeototiooe oe to their onflueoces oo the trode. Thee hod beeo a subetatidl evival of Germano trade before this ageeentas mac ode, but for Jacoory 1, 1951, additioool dollae eochange wat toade atailable to pseomit limoited imspoete, onto quota bode, of selected coommodiies foromeely eocloded. Both Caoodian atnd Uoited States eopoetete were helped by this teade libeealioation plan peopoetionate to the eatio of their trade in shee commtodiies dueing the hose yeas. It is assumoed that the plan soll be contined aod probably ex- goanded dutiog 1952. Geonerally speohiog, the eopoets of the Beitish Caeibbean teeth- toriesereceive pefereoces io the oarees of Caoada and she Uoited Kiagdomo, aod somt prodocts, notably togae, aee haodled 00 the bath puccbasesysct. Althaough the Uaited Statces doet cot tako anysugarefromtsctserioie, it isagoodmaetsforsch thiogs as coco beans, caeioos epicee, chiclc, omahagaoy loge, and oatoeol asphlt-otl of swhich octet duty-fee ic she United States. III. Reduction of Cubac Prefeecson s U. S. Goodo Eoceptiog Uoited States possessioos, Coba it the only Caribbean country or teeritoy haviogpefeential taeiffereladiooswithshe UnsitedlSats,oond theepefeenoce boot heeneedaced substantdally dicc 1947. In that yea, at the herst oegotiatiog sessioo of the Geneal AgeementsoaTariffsand Trade,bheld atGeneva,oa geoneral ageement ws recached that the existiog prefeenotial marc- gins geooted by the cooteactiog pares would cot be iceated, and fueshermoe cegotiations swere aundeetaken to tedoce 0r elimt- inate the peferentialotargins ootspecificetariff itemstbytoeacsof 00cesin snhe msoot-faoroed-notion eases of dosy. Negotiasioos woishin she feamoewoek of the Geneeal Agreemoent, at Geceea (1947), 0t Annecy (1949), and at Toeqoay (1950-1951) tesalted 10 reduction (oe eltiintioc) of moany poetferences 10 she Uaited States-Cua teade ageemenct that pevioosly had beto operatie only beweeatheetwo couotrie. Doring the coarse of thie 7000, Coba has cocluded ageemoecte wcith the United Kingdoms, Cacada,ond Wesero Germanyswhicbhaeefurthereduced or elimticated she pefeentiol odvantages peously tnoyed by United States peodocts 10 the Coban markete. These ageeets hoot cot yetsbeenoineffectlog eogho warrat ocyspecaladionseat to theit ioflaecest 00 the teode. There had beec a sobstaotial revival of Germoan trade befoe this agreementt toot madebut for Janary 1, 1951, additiocal dollat exchacge wat made available to permits blmted imoports, oc a quota basit, of telected coodities forerly eocloded. Both Caoadianand Uited States expoetters ere helped by shit teade liberaliaation plan peopoetiocate to the ra11o of their trode in these comosadities dariog the bate yeas. It is asoumed that the plan will be coctinoed and probably to- ganded dueing 1952. Geeoally speaking, she expoets of the British Caeibbeao seeti- torieerece~ive peeferences its the moarketof Canada aodthe Uoited Kicgdoms, aod tome peodocss, cosably togae, ate handled 00 she both purchase tystemo. Althoogh the Uoited States does cot tahe acy sogarefrom these teecitorie, is is a good oaret foe each things as cacao beaos, various spices, chicle, mahbogacy logs, acd cnatal osphals-ll of wchich enter duty-free 10 the United Statse. III. Redoction of Cuan Peefotoces 00 U. S. Goods Exocepsiog Uoised States possessions, Cuba is she ooly Caribbean country or tortoyhaig prefeentidotriffreltiontswith the United Stases, and shee pefeees hove been reduced substantially since 1947. to shot year, as she fleet negodiatiog tession of the Geoneral Agreement on Taiffs and Trade, held at Geneva, a geoneoal ageemoent wsoo teached that the eoisiog peefeetial mae- gin grantedhbythe contractingpaetieswouldotsbeiceosed, and fortbhermore negosiations mee undertoken so educe 00 eliot- soatetetbpeefeentdalsoaegis oospecifictoriff itemstbytoeansof 00csioso the msoot-faoreed-nation eases of duty. Negotiatiocs weithin she fraeorke of she Geneoal Agreemtto, at Geneoa (1947), at Aoaecy (1949), and at Toeqay (1959-1951) esolted to reduction (or elimoination) of maony prefeences in she Uited States-Cua seade agreement shot peviousiy had beta opetative only beteeno she two countes. During she course of this year, Cuba has cocladed ogeemoecte soish the Unised Kingdomo, Conada, and Wessern Germoany swhich have foodtsee reducedatr eliomicoted she prefeential advantages peviously tnoyed by Ucited Stokes peoducss 10 she Cuan arkeet. Theme ogreeets boot ot yet been in effect long enough to marrant any speculations as to tetie inluences 00 the tradc. Thee bad beec a substantial evivoal of Gteran trade before this ageemcent matsomade, but for  90 The Caribbean some dose to come, as least, Europeass suppliers will be haodicapped by she shoesage of some types of goods sod non-comopotitive prices 00 oshers. Jo ooy evoot, she close economsic ties betseeno Cobs sod toe Uited Stotes existod before pefeeoces ood mill dosubtless suevive the eeductionors elimiostioo tbeeeof. Eveo before iodepeodeoce, Cobs sold so oveerwheloming peoportioo of its exports is the United Stotes sod slso depended on the United Ststes foe beasdstoffs, lard,ond provisions,oas wellsbsadwase,rilwasyeqipmeot,sod othee sopplies. Foe mosoy yeses tbe Unoited States hot sbsoebed feomo 72 to 82 per cent of Cobs's sogar eopoets. Sioce 1934 a successios of United Stoles sugar sets hot guaeaoteed Cobs 28.6 p ee ceot of this coostey's coosomption requiremeots. Othee peovisioss of these sets hove eoobled Cobs so supply sdditiooal aouonts over this hose. The balance of Cobs's togae, not consumoed in that country or conveeted into molasses, iodustriol slcohol, oe eroo, hot boos mold osstheso-csllodmwold maeket. A sigoifict festoreofthoeme sgeeoments mith Canada, the United Kiogdom, sod Wetero Coo- manoy is that each of these countries ageest to take specified aounoots of Cubao sugar is eetoeo foe toe doty coocessions gersnted by Cobs. IVl. Move TowardFreoerTrade inCenteal America Meotion moay be moode of the revival of ionterest is Censtral Ameeica foe closer econosoic sod political associstion smong toe flee stotes toat once weore soiled uoder a siogle admioisteatioo. Os Octohee 14, 1951, shoe a woeb of oogotiation, the Foreigo Ministees of the flee nations ageeed upon a plao foe so Oegaoizatioo of Ceoteal Americao fSates toat hot beon sobmitted to the govern- meots foe ratificatioo. It hs also open to adheeoce by Panams. El Saleador, toe smallest hot most deosely popolated of the coos- tries, has beeo actiee is pesmoting bilasseral "free-teode" treoaties with its oeighboes sod weold lihe to find a broadee masebet foe its growcing industries, such as henequen bogs sod cordage, cotton tootiles, sod ceosent. Sioco 1918 El Saleodor hot hod s om meecial treasy teith Honduoas peovidiog foesa laege measue of free trade betweoeo the teo countres, sod recently a similar treaty was coocloded soft Nicaragus. The latter cousotey is toe 90 The Caribbean 90 The Caribbean some time to come, attlest, Eueopesossuppliersswillbo handicsppod by toe shoetage of sooso typos of goods sod ono-competitive peicet son others. Jo soy evoot, toe close economic ties between Cobs sod toe Uoiled States eoisted beose prefeensces sod will doubsless sueeie toe eeductionors eliosination thereof. Eves befoee iodependeoce, Cobastold so overwhelmiog peoportionof sits expoets io toe Unisod Stoles sod alto depeoded on the Uoiled Stoles foe beasdstuffs, laed, sod provisions, as well s hardware, eailwasy equipment, sod otber supplies. Foe msoy yeses toe Uoited Stowes hot absoebed feom 72 to 82 pee cool of Cobs's togae exports. Since 1934 a succesion of Coiled Stotes togae sets hot guaraoteed Cobs 28.6 pee coot of this contey's cosumption requirsmeots. Otbee provisios of these sets hove enabled Cobs to supply additioool amouots ovee tis base. The balance of Cobs's togae, sot coosumed is toat country sor converted fno molasses, fodustrial alcohol, 00 rum, hot boos sold o toe so-called woeld markset. A significant feature of toene ageeemeots with Canada, toe Unitod Kiogdoms, sod Westors Gee- msaoyis thateachbofteecounreisgrestotae specifiodsamousts of Cubso sugae is rstuen foe tho doty coocessioos gosnted by Cobs. IV. Moos Toward Feer Trads is Central Aerica Mentioo may ho mode of the revival of interest is Cestoal Amoeeica for closee economsic sod political astocistion among the five stoles shot once wee unitod uoder a single admsinistration. Os October 14, 1951, altec a webk of negotiation, toe Foreign Ministeos of she five nations agreed opon a plan foe so Oeganization of Centeal Ameeficoo Stoles that hot bees submitted so the govern- ments foe rasification. Is is ast open to adherence by Panama. El Salvadoe, the sosallest hot most deosely popolated of the coos- tIes, has bees active is peomoting bilateral "feoe-teade" treaties with its neighboes sod woold like to find a broadee machot foe its geowing industres, such as henequon bogs sod coedage, cotton textilet, sod cement. Showe 1918 El Salvador has hod a cm oseecial treaty with Hiondoeas peoviding foesa lare measuore of free teade betwen the two countres, sod eeently a similar treaty was concluded wit Nicaeagu. The latee contry is doe some time so come, at least, Eueopeansuppliors will be hsodicappod by toe shortage of some types of goods sod sos-competitive pefcos onothers. Is soy evest, the close economic ties betweeo Cobs sod toe United Stoles oxisted befoe pefeences sod will doubtlesstsuvive the reduction 00 elimination teroof. Eves before indepondence, Cobastold so overwhelming peoportion of its exports is the Coiled Stoles sod ast depended on she Coiled Stoles foe bwsadstffs, laed, sod provisions, at well as hardwarw, railway equipmen, sod otee supplies. Foe osany yeses she United Stotes hot absored loom 72 to 82 pee coos of Cobs's togae exports. Sioce 1924 asoccession of United Stotes togae sets hot goarantwed Cobs 28.6 poer cost of dti country'stconsumptisoneeqiemsent. Othereprovisionsoflthese acs hove enabled Cobs to sopply additional amounss ovee this base. The balane of Cobs's togae, sot consmod is toat country sor converted lno molasses, fndustrial alcohol, sor rum, hot boos sold onsthso-clld woldmae. Atsignificntfoatureof theew agreements wit Canada, the Coiled Kingdom, sod Western Gee- many is that each of theso countries agees to tobe specified amounts of Cubansutgae is retorn foe toe duty concessloss graoted by Cobs. IV/. Moos TowardFreeTrade in Central Aerica Montion may be mode of toe revival of inteest is Conteal Amserfca foe closer economic sod political association among she five stowes shot once woos snited undoer a single admiistreatio. Os October 14, 1951, aftoer a weob of negosiotion, the Foreign Ministers of the five nations agrsed upon a plan foe so Organization of Ceotral Amerficoo Stoles shot hot boos submitted so toe govern- meotsforeeotificatiso. Itlissoopnstodheece by Psnams. El Salvador, the smallest hot most densely popolatod of toe coos- ties, hot bees active is promoting bilateral "froo-trade" booaties with its neighboes sod would libe to find a beoadee morket foe its growing industries, such as henequen bogs sod cordage, cotton textiles, sod cemenst. Since 1918 El Salvadoe hot hod s coos- oseetial mossty with Hondoras providing foesa lare msuroo of free trade between the two contris, sod recently a simsilsr trosty was concluded with Nicaragua. The latter csotey is tbe  TRADE 91 TRADE 91 TRADE only one of the Central American countries that is a party to the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade. Consideration is now being given at Geneva as to whether the El Salvador-Nicaragua treaty conforms to Article 24 of the GATT agreement relating to the establishment of customs unions or free trade zones. The Republic of Panama occupies a special position by virtue of its location at one of the world's great crossroads. The transit trade and tourist expenditures have long been major sources of income, although the development of subsistence and export crops and of small industries has progressed. In 1948 Panama created a free zone at the Port of Coltn, on the Atlantic side of the Isthmus, to encourage the establishment in the Republic of distribution and processing facilities by large manufacturers supplying adjacent mar- hets. Two large United States firms have already shifted a large part of their Middle and South American export business to Colon, and various other companies are investigating the possibilities. The operations of the Zone are still somewhat handicapped by lack of adequate docks and warehouses. An American engineering firm has been contracted to study this problem, and the United Nations Economic Commission for Latin America is also advising the Panama government. V. Volume and Direction of Trade The international trade of the Caribbean ama has attained truly impressive proportions. During the three years 1948-1950, the average annual value of exports from the area (not including United States territories) was around 3.5 billion dollars and that of imports, 3.3 billion dollars. The larger part of this corresponded to the twelve republics of the area (Mexico, Central America, the three island republics, Colombia, and Venezuela), with annual average exports and imports in 1948-1950 of 2.8 billion dollars and 2.4 billion dollars respectively. As the area has a population of about 65,000,000, this results in a per capita foreign trade of slightly over $100. Venezuela is now in first place in this area as regards the value of foreign trade, with Cuba second, and Mexico third. The growth of Venezuela's trade has been spectacular: exports rose from an annual average of $25,000,000 in 1911-1913 to $1,161,000,- only one of the Central American countries that is a party to the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade. Consideration is now being given at Geneva as to whether the El Salvador-Nicaragua treaty conforms to Article 24 of the GATT agreement relating to the establishment of customs unions or free trade zones. The Republic of Panama occupies a special position by virtue of its location at one of the world's great crossroads. The transit trade and tourist expenditures have long been major sources of income, although the development of subsistence and export crops and of small industries has progrnssed. In 1948 Panama created a free zone at the Port of Colln, on the Atlantic side of the Isthmus, to encourage the establishment in the Republic of distribution and processing facilities by large manufacturers supplying adjacent mar- kets. Two large United States firms have already shifted a large part of their Middle and South American export business to Coltin, and various other companies are investigating the possibilities. The operations of the Zone are still somewhat handicapped by lack of adequate docks and warehouses. An American engineering firm has been contracted to study this problem, and the United Nations Economic Commission for Latin America is also advising the Panama government. V. Volume and Direction of Trade The international trade of the Caribbean area has attained truly impressive proportions. During the three years 1948-1950, the average annual value of exports from the area (not including United States territories) was around 3.5 billion dollars and that of imports, 3.3 billion dollars. The larger part of this corresponded to the twelve republics of the area (Mexico, Central America, the three island republics, Colombia, and Venezuela), with annual average exports and imports in 1948-1950 of 2.8 billion dollars and 2.4 billion dollars respectively. As the area has a population of about 65,000,000, this results in a per capita foreign trade of slightly over $100. Venezuela is now in first place in this area as regards the value of foreign trade, with Cuba second, and Mexico third. The growth of Venezuela's trade has been spectacular: exports rose from an annual average of $25,000,000 in 1911-1913 to $1,161,000,- only one of the Central American countries that is a party to the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade. Consideration is now being given at Geneva as to whether the El Salvador-Nicaragua treaty conforms to Article 24 of the GATT agreement relating to the establishment of customs unions or free trade zones. The Republic of Panama occupies a special position by virtue of its location at one of the world's great crossroads. The transit trade and tourist expenditures have long been major sources of income, although the development of subsistence and export crops and of small industries has progressed. In 1948 Panama created a free zone at the Port of Coltn, on the Atlantic side of the Isthmus, to encourage the establishment in the Republic of distribution and processing facilities by large manufacturemrs supplying adjacent mar- kets. Two large United States firms have already shifted a large part of their Middle and South American export business to Coln, and various other companies are investigating the possibilities. The operations of the Zone are still somewhat handicapped by lack of adequate docks and warehouses. An American engineering firm has been contracted to study this problem, and the United Nations Economic Commission for Latin America is also advising the Panama government. V. Volume and Direction of Trade The international trade of the Caribbean area has attained truly impressive proportions. During the three years 1948-1950, the average annual value of exports from the area (not including United States territories) was around 3.5 billion dollars and that of imports, 3.3 billion dollars. The larger part of this corresponded to the twelve republics of the area (Mexico, Central America, the three island republics, Colombia, and Venezuela), with annual average exports and imports in 1948-1950 of 2.8 billion dollars and 2.4 billion dollars respectively. As the area has a population of about 65,000,000, this results in a per capita foreign trade of slightly over $100. Venezuela is now in first place in this area as regards the value of foreign trade, with Cuba second, and Mexico third. The growth of Venezuela's trade has been spectacular: exports rose from an annual average of $25,000,000 in 1911-1913 to $1,161,000,-  92 The Caribbean 000 in 1950, while imports increased feom $18,500,000 to $537,000,- 000. The foreign trade of Colombia, now in fourth place, also has expanded manyfold. The United States has long been the leading supplier of the imports of the Caribbean area and also regularly uses over half of the exports of all of the republics, except the Dominican Republic and Venezuela. The United States is the principal mar- ket for Dominican cacao, coffee, bananas, molasses, tapioca starch, and miscellaneous produce, but most of the sugar crop goes to the United Kingdom. In the case of Venezuela, the United States takes about 70 per cent of exports other than crude petroleum and its derivatives. Directly or indirectly (after refining in the Nether- lands Indies), a large part of Venezuela's petroleum exports comes to the United States. In this connection, attention may be called to the fact that public hearings were held in Washington on October 9-12, 1951, by the Committee for Reciprocity Information, preparatory to the inauguration of negotiations with Venezuela to supplement and amend the trade agreement of 1939. As compared to prewar years, the United States now takes ap- proximately the same ratio of the total volume of exports from the Caribbean republics but supplies a substantially larger popor- tion of imports, as will be seen from the following table: DIRECTION OF TRADE, TWELVE CARIBBEAN REPUBLICS PER CENT OF TOTAL. 92 The Caribbean 000 in 1950, while imports increased from $18,500,000 to $537,000,- 000. The foreign trade of Colombia, now in fourth place, also has expanded manyfold. The United States has long been the leading supplier of the imports of the Caribbean area and also regularly uses over half of the exports of all of the republics, except the Dominican Republic and Venezuela. The United States is the principal mar- ket for Dominican cacao, coffee, bananas, molasses, tapioca starch, and miscellaneous produce, but most of the sugar crop goes to the United Kingdom. In the case of Venezuela, the United States takes about 70 per cent of exports other than crude petroleum and its derivatives. Directly or indirectly (after refining in the Nether- lands Indies), a large part of Venezuela's petroleum exports comes to the United States. In this connection, attention may be called to the fact that public hearings were held in Washington on October 9-12, 1951, by the Committee for Reciprocity Information, preparatory to the inauguration of negotiations with Venezuela to supplement and amend the trade agreement of 1939. As compared to prewar years, the United States now takes ap- proximately the same ratio of the total volume of exports from the Caribbean republics but supplies a substantially larger propor- tion of imports, as will be seen from the following table: DIRECTION OF TRADE, TWELVE CARIBBEAN REPUBLICS PER CENT of TOTAL 92 The Caribbean 000 in 1950, while imports increased from $18,500,000 to $537,000,- 000. The foreign trade of Colombia, now in fourth place, also has expanded manyfold. The United States has long been the leading supplier of the imports of the Caribbean area and also regularly uses over half of the exports of all of the republics, except the Dominican Republic and Venezuela. The United States is the principal mar- ket for Dominican cacao, coffee, bananas, molasses, tapioca starch, and miscellaneous produce, but most of the sugar crop goes to the United Kingdom. In the case of Venezuela, the United States takes about 70 per cent of exports other than crude petroleum and its derivatives. Directly or indirectly (after refining in the Nether- lands Indies), a large part of Venezuela's petroleum exports comes to the United States. In this connection, attention may be called to the fact that public hearings were held in Washington on October 9-12, 1951, by the Committee for Reciprocity Information, preparatory to the inauguration of negotiations with Venezuela to supplement and amend the trade agreement of 1939. As compared to prewar years, the United States now takes ap- proximately the same ratio of the total volume of exports from the Caribbean republics but supplies a substantially larger propor- tion of imports, as will be seen from the following table: DIRECTION OF TRADE, TWELVE CARIBBEAN REPUBLICS PER CENT OF TOTAL United States Continental Europe United Kingdom Canada Other Latin American Republics Other areas Exports 1938 1950 54 56 15 9 8 5 2 1 Imports 1938 1950 58 74 27 10 4 4 1 3 United States Continental Europe United Kingdom Canada Other Latin American Republics Other areas Exports Imports 1938 1950 1938 1950 54 56 58 74 15 9 27 10 8 5 4 4 2 1 1 3 1 3 2 4 20 26 8 5 1ff 100 100 1100 United States Continental Europe United Kingdom Canada Other Latin American Republics Other areas Exports Imports 1938 1950 1938 1950 54 56 58 74 15 9 27 10 8 5 4 4 2 1 1 3 1 3 2 4 20 26 8 5 100 100 100 100 1 3 2 4 20 26 8 5 100 100 100 100 Direct commercial relations and shipping services have been re- sumed with Germany and Japan. In 1950 German exports to the twelve Caribbean republics aggregated $52,000,000. Before the Direct commercial relations and shipping services have been re- sumed with Germany and Japan. In 1950 German exports to the twelve Caribbean republics aggregated $52,000,000. Before the Direct commercial relations and shipping services have been re- sumed with Germany and Japan. In 1950 German exports to the twelve Caribbean republics aggregated $52,000,000. Before the  TRADE 93 TRADE 93 TRADE 93 sear ahoat 3 per teas af the imppas ef thete repablics came feam Asia, chiefly tire, haelap, aad Japanetsertexiles. Eaports to Japan wcere smallee thac impacts Item Japan. VI. Typea a) Peodats Echanged The statemeas is feeqaeantly made that the Uaited States teade wcith the Carihhean area consists of an exchange oflmanufactred goadsfr foodstuffs ad rawmaateials, hat this statement reeds same qaalificasian. Ia 1950 ahaut twoa-filths of she impoacts con- sisted of manalactared loadstaffs ar semi-macalacturet. Sugar, Ir example, is a manafactured foodistaff that is produced in large acd highly mechacized placts endowced wcith the latest resoucee oflmechanical andchemical science. Mostsrlshe impesclmeals ace lihewcise smeltee at mill geoducts. Imparts of flnished manafar- tes sweee ahout 2 p er cetea tithe sosal. As regards Uaited Stats exparts, it is woatth nasing that hread- staffs aad pravisiocs wcere long the chief articles of exppt feom the Unised Stases and that lard prodacts still constitute ac impartant partais he rade. Exporessofcrudemateriaad smi-manufac- tarts are also imprtant. Farshermoce, Canada is aimo cc impr- tact supplier of flcar ad othee lard products that car only he produced at excessie cst, ifcsc ll, inmmstrlfhisegio. Is is precisely because each region prodaces and sells the producs ic wehich it has great catural adrantages that the teade is large ad reciprocally advactageoas. In mart of she smallr countries, baited Stases manuactsared exports are chiefly in the item of consumer grads, hat ice she araas a inhale the major items are machinery, matte rehicles ad ather strasport eqaipment, ad hasic ferrats ad aon-ferraus products. In 1950, baited Stases exprtss so Middle America (tea repuhlics plas Earapean possessiont) of machinry, vehicles, metals, and mescl manualatres amountedsto$00,000l,000 olr 42 percent of she sotal valae of baited Stases exprts to that area. In addision, purchases of these items hy Colomhia ad Venezaela wcere cart $30,000f,000S. Is is reasoable so tapers that capital grads trill consinue so b a large item intheimpot trdeofsheaibean as existlag transportatioa systems are rehahilitated ad expanded, at rxist- sear carsu 3 pet cetea of she imprss of these repubhlics came from Asia, chiefly rice, hurlap, and Japanesrersexiles. Exprts ta Japan scare smaller shan impacts irom Japan. VI. Typrsof PoducsEchaged The stasemens is freqently made that she baited States trade wcith she Caribbean area carsists of an exchange of manufactred grads Ice foodssaffs and rawe materials, has this statement reeds same qalificasion. Ia 1950 carsu tact-fifths of she impoacts era- sisted of macafactared foodstuffs at semi-macclactures. Sugar, far trample, is a manufictred ioodstuff that is predated in large and highly mechanized plans erdotred with the latest resorter ofimechanical andcheicl sciece. Mostsalshe importsclfmetls are lihewise smelter at mill prodrcts. Imparts of finished manufac- tres wcere carsu 2 pr ctat of she total. As regards baited States exprtss, it is wrtsh noting that hread- staffs and provisions stee long she thief articles of export feom the baited States and that lard producss still conssisase cc important parsaifthe trade. Exportsaofcrde materialsand smi-mrf- sauactes are a important. Frthermore, Canada is aimo ac impor- sat supplier of Scaur and ether lard products that cccanony b& produced at ecessive cast, if at aS, in mat of this region. Is is precisely hecause each eegion peodrces and sells she products in wchich it has great rattal advansages that she trade is large and recipeocally adrantageoas. In mast of she small er coantries, baited Stases manuactsured rexprss are chiefly in she farm of coasamee grads, hat far the araas a wchole she major items are stachinery, mater rehicles and ether sransport equipmeat, ad hasic fteros ad arc-Iereoas preducss. Ic 1955, baited States exprss so Middle America (sea tegubhics girt Earopean passssioaas) of machinery, rehicles, metals, and metal manufactsres amounted so $600,000,000 at 42 ptreat of she soal ralue of Uaited States regprts to that area. In addition, prchases of theme items hy Colomhia and Venezaela acre carsu $309,000,000. Is is reasoablhe to tapers that capital grads wrill ectinue to he a large item in the impact trade of she Caribbean as existing trasportation systems ate rehahilitated and expanded, as exist- seat carsu 3 pee teat of she imparts of these repubhics came Item Asia, chitfly rice, hurlap, and Japanese teetiles. Exports so Japan weere small er than israts lease Japan. VI. Typec a)f Peoducts Echanged The stasesetra is feqeqntly made that she Ucited Stases trade weith she Caribbean area contists of anrechangecofmanufctred grads ir foodstuffs and cast materials, has this stasementsneeds acme qualiflcatio. Ia 1950 carsu saco-fifths of she imparts con- racted of manufacsured foodstuffs or semi-manufactues. Sugar, Ice trample, it a macclatered foodstuff chat hs predated in large and highly mechanized pleants endowced wtith she latest resources ofimechaical and chemical sence. Mattel she impartedo metals are lihewissmeleroresmillprdcs. Imprsrlflriished manufac- tres wre cheat 2 per teas of the sotal. As regards baited Staces erports, it is acorsh relic0 that head- staffs and provisions stre long she chief articles of export item she baited States and that lard prodrcts still constitrte cc important partaofsheacade. Exportsofcrutde matrials adsmi-manufac- tres ace ahso important. Purthermore, Canada is also cc linger- tact supplier of fleer and other lard products that can trip he produced as eaterssive cast, if at all, ic mint of this region. Is is precisely hecause each region predates and sellstshe products in wehich is has great natural adrantages that the trade is large and reciperally adanatageos. In mass of the small er coures, baited Stases manuactsured exports art chiefly in the farm of consumer grads, has Ice the area as a sthole she major items are machinery, maser rehicles and ash er tractspart equipmecs, and hasic ferrous ad non-feerrs products. Ic 1955, baited States exports to Middle America (tea repahics girt Earopean possessiart) of machinery, ehicles, metals, and metal manufactures amounted to $00,000,00Q0 cr42 per cent ti the sosal ralue of Uniacd Stases exports to that aea. In addision, parchases of these items hy Colombhia and Venetrela state carsu $309,000,000. Is is reasoabhle to expecsshascapital goodseiilcontinuerto he a large itmin she impart trade of the Caribbean as existing sransportationasystems are rehahilitated and expanded, as exist-  94 The Caribbean ing industries are modernized and new ones established, as more power equipment is introduced to supplement manual labor in agriculture and construction, as new extractive industries are developed, and as electric power systems are consolidated and expanded. The trend toward urbanization and industrialization has created rapidly expanding demands for electricity. After years of relative neglect, more attention is being given to the vital transportation question. As the iron ore resources of Vene- zuela and the bauxite deposits of Jamaica and other islands are developed, the economic life of large areas will be quickened. VII. Outlook There is every reason to expect that for a considerable period there will be a strong demand for the leading products of the Caribbean area. Furthermore, the area derives large amounts of dollar purchasing power from tourist expenditures, from new in- vestments, United States Government outlays, and loans from the Export-Import Bank and the International Bank. The im- mediate outlook for the major export products is favorable. Cuban sugar mills are beginning to grind the largest crop in the nation's history. The curve of Venezuelan petroleum flow is mounting steadily, and oil exports from Colombia and Mexico again show an upward trend. The development of new iron ore and bauxite deposits promises a big increase in shipments of these materials, and other mineral developments have been under- taken. Although Mexico's historic exports, silver and gold, have de- clined, larger shipments of agricultural products, canned fruits and fish, handicrafts, and manufactures more than make up the differ- ence. Cotton is now Mexico's leading export. Coffee production is exceeding all previous records. Sugar has shifted from the im- port to the export column. Mexico has become self-sufficient in corn and in various consumer manufactures, but is a large importer of capital goods, semi-manufactures, industrial raw materials, and high-quality consumer goods. As a market for the United States, Mexico is first among the Latin American nations and third in the world. Despite scarcities in some items, United States foreign trade fig- 94 The Caribbean 94 The Caribbean ing industries are modernized and new ones established, as more power equipment is introduced to supplement manual labor in agriculture and construction, as new extractive industries are developed, and as electric power systems are consolidated and expanded. The trend toward urbanization and industrialization has created rapidly expanding demands for electricity. After years of relative neglect, more attention is being given to the vital transportation question. As the iron ore resources of Vene- zuela and the bauxite deposits of Jamaica and other islands are developed, the economic life of large areas will be quickened. VII. Outlook There is every reason to expect that for a considerable period there will be a strong demand for the leading products of the Caribbean area. Furthermore, the area derives large amounts of dollar purchasing power from tourist expenditures, from new in- vestments, United States Government outlays, and loans from the Export-Import Bank and the International Bank. The im- mediate outlook for the major export products is favorable. Cuban sugar mills are beginning to grind the largest crop in the nation's history. The curve of Venezuelan petroleum flow is mounting steadily, and oil exports from Colombia and Mexico again show an upward trend. The development of new iron ore and bauxite deposits promises a big increase in shipments of these materials, and other mineral developments have been under- taken. Although Mexico's historic exports, silver and gold, have de- clined, larger shipments of agricultural products, canned fruits and fish, handicrafts, and manufactures more than make up the differ- ence. Cotton is now Mexico's leading export. Coffee production is exceeding all previous records. Sugar has shifted from the im- port to the export column. Mexico has become self-sufficient in corn and in various consumer manufactures, but is a large importer of capital goods, semi-manufactures, industrial raw materials, and high-quality consumer goods. As a market for the United States, Mexico is first among the Latin American nations and third in the world. Despite scarcities in some items, United States foreign trade fig- ing industries are modernized and new ones established, as more power equipment is introduced to supplement manual labor in agriculture and construction, as new extractive industries are developed, and as electric power systems are consolidated and expanded. The trend toward urbanization and industrialization has created rapidly expanding demands for electricity. After years of relative neglect, more attention is being given to the vital transportation question. As the iron ore resources of Vene- zuela and the bauxite deposits of Jamaica and other islands are developed, the economic life of large areas will be quickened. VII. Outlook There is every reason to expect that for a considerable period there will be a strong demand for the leading products of the Caribbean area. Furthermore, the area derives large amounts of dollar purchasing power from tourist expenditures, from new in- vestments, United States Government outlays, and loans from the Export-Import Bank and the International Bank. The im- mediate outlook for the major export products is favorable. Cuban sugar mills are beginning to grind the largest crop in the nation's history. The curve of Venezuelan petroleum flow is mounting steadily, and oil exports from Colombia and Mexico again show an upward trend. The development of new iron ore and bauxite deposits promises a big increase in shipments of these materials, and other mineral developments have been under- taken. Although Mexico's historic exports, silver and gold, have de- clined, larger shipments of agricultural products, canned fruits and fish, handicrafts, and manufactures more than make up the differ- ence. Cotton is now Mexico's leading export. Coffee production is exceeding all previous records. Sugar has shifted from the im- port to the export column. Mexico has become self-sufficient in corn and in various consumer manufactures, but is a large importer of capital goods, semi-manufactures, industrial raw materials, and high-quality consumer goods. As a market for the United States, Mexico is first among the Latin American nations and third in the world. Despite scarcities in some items, United States foreign trade fig-  TRADE 95 TRADE 95 TRADE ures for the first nine months of 1951 indicate that exports to the southern republics are running at levels near the 1947 peak, while imports are at an all-time high point. Perhaps some easing off of both exports and imports may be anticipated during the next six months or so, but no serious decline is expected. Likewise, it is unlikely that there will be any appreciable shifts in the distribu- tion of the Caribbean trade as regards suppliers or markets. ures for the first nine months of 1951 indicate that exports to the southern republics are running at levels near the 1947 peak, while imports are at an all-time high point. Perhaps some easing off of both exports and imports may be anticipated during the next six months or so, but no serious decline is expected. Likewise, it is unlikely that there will be any appreciable shifts in the distribu- tion of the Caribbean trade as regards suppliers or markets. ures for the first nine months of 1951 indicate that exports to the southern republics are running at levels near the 1947 peak, while imports are at an all-time high point. Perhaps some easing off of both exports and imports may be anticipated during the next six months or so, but no serious decline is expected. Likewise, it is unlikely that there will be any appreciable shifts in the distribu- tion of the Caribbean trade as regards suppliers or markets.  10 10 William L. Schurz: FOREIGN CAPITAL INVESTMENT IN THE CARIBBEAN THE CARIBBEAN investment field comprises twelve of the twenty Latin American republics. It includes Mexico, the six Central American countries, the three island republics, and Colom- bia and Venezuela. Its total population is about 60,000,000. The bases of its economy are still agriculture and mining. Its staple crops are those familiar to the tropics-sugar, coffee, cacao, cotton, rice, and fruits. At least five of the twelve republics have a food deficit. Of those which do not produce enough for their people to eat, the fault is the country's in two cases. As for minerals, three of the twelve are producers of petroleum. Imports of oil are a heavy drain on the foeign exchange of the other nine. Cost to their consumers is prohibitive, except to the very well-to-do and to manufacturing industries. The same three countries have de- posits of coal of sorts, so that the fuel resources of the area are highly concentrated. In addition to gold and silver, the area also produces large quantities of the industrial metals, such as iron, copper, manganese, lead, and zine. But only half the twelve republics have a mining industry of any size, and so far only one of them has been responsible for the bulk of the output of industrial metals. Only four of the twelve have more than a very rudimentary manufacturing industry. Of the four, one has an ambitioc and elaborate industrial system already in operation. Only two of the twelve countries have a basic network of trans- portation lines covering the national territory. William L. Schurz: FOREIGN CAPITAL INVESTMENT IN THE CARIBBEAN THE CARIBBEAN investment field comprises twelve of the twenty Latin American republics. It includes Mexico, the six Central American countries, the three island republics, and Colom- bia and Venezuela. Its total population is about 60,000,000. The bases of its economy are still agriculture and mining. Its staple crops are those familiar to the tropics-sugar, coffee, cacao, cotton, rice, and fruits. At least five of the twelve republics have a food deficit. Of those which do not produce enough for their people to eat, the fault is the country's in two cases. As for minerals, thee of the twelve are producers of petroleum. Imports of oil are a heavy drain on the foreign exchange of the other nine. Cost to their consumers is prohibitive, except to the very well-to-do and to manufacturing industries. The same three countries have de- posits of coal of sorts, so that the fuel resources of the area are highly concentrated. In addition to gold and silver, the area also produces large quantities of the industrial metals, such as iron, copper, manganese, lead, and zinc. But only half the twelve republics have a mining industry of any size, and so far only one of them has been responsible for the bulk of the output of industrial metals. Only four of the twelve have more than a very rudimentary manufacturing industry. Of the four, one has an ambition- and elaborate industrial system already in operation. Only two of the twelve countries have a basic network of trans- portation lines covering the national territory. 96 William L. SChurz: FOREIGN CAPITAL INVESTMENT IN THE CARIBBEAN THE CARIBBEAN investment field comprises twelve of the twenty Latin American republics. It includes Mexico, the six Central American countries, the three island republics, and Colom- bia and Venezuela. Its total population is about 60,000,000. The bases of its economy are still agriculture and mining. Its staple crops are those familiar to the tropics-sugar, coffee, cacao, cotton, rice, and fruits. At least five of the twelve republics have a food deficit. Of those which do not produce enough for their people to eat, the fault is the country's in two cases. As for minerals, three of the twelve are producers of petroleum. Imports of oil are a heavy drain on the foreign exchange of the other nine. Cost to their consumers is prohibitive, except to the very well-to-do and to manufacturing industries. The same three countries have de- posits of coal of sorts, so that the fuel resources of the area are highly concentrated. In addition to gold and silver, the area also produces large quantities of the industrial metals, such as iron, copper, manganese, lead, and zinec. But only half the twelve republics have a mining industry of any size, and so far only one of them has been responsible for the bulk of the output of industrial metals. Only four of the twelve have more than a very rudimentary manufacturing industry. Of the four, one has an ambition and elaborate industrial system already in operation. Only two of the twelve countries have a basic network of trans- portation lines covering the national territory. 96  TRADE 97 TRADE 97 TRADE The economic ties of this area with the United States are very close. With only one exception, at least two-thirds of the foreign trade of each country is with the United States. The total of United States private direct investments in the twelve republics in the middle of 1943 was approximately $2,048,000,000. Of this about $1,700,000,000 represented investments in American-con- trolled enterprises. Investments in Cuba, Mexico, and Venezuela accounted for about 70 per cent of the total. In the four years 1946-1949, additional capital to a total of $1,066,000,000 was invested in the same countries, over half of it in Venezuela. In the meantime, considerable American capital had been repatriated, particularly from Cuba. So much for the recent movement of private American capital in the Caribbean area. Reliable figures for the current total direct investment of private capital do not exist, but it is probably under $3,000,000,000. By comparison, the market value of American holdings of the famous dollar bonds of the twenties is less than $50,000,000. These figures do not include the Export-Import Bank loans made in the past ten years, or loans of the International Bank to four of the republics. All twelve are what are called "underdeveloped" countries, that is, they have not realized the possibilities of economic development which their natural resources would appear to justify and which their national interests require. In other words, they have not caught up with the Industrial Revolution. By any standards, na- tional and average individual incomes are low. To right things they all need money-much more than they can accumulate in the course of the natural evolution of their present economies. And they are in a hurry. For their populations are growing too fast for what there is to distribute among them. As exporting nations, usually of a very few products, their economies are at the mercy of the international demand for the things they have to sell. They call themselves "colonial" nations, that is, like colonies, they have to trade the raw materials they produce for the manufactured goods they need. They are troubled, not only by the normal vicissitudes of foreign markets, but by the prospects of extraordinary disturbances inherent in the world situation today. They have lived in the economic backwash of two world wars, and they are afraid that if there is another war, a tidal wave will engulf their economies. The economic ties of this area with the United States are very close. With only one exception, at least two-thirds of the foreign trade of each country is with the United States. The total of United States private direct investments in the twelve republics in the middle of 1943 was approximately $2,048,000,000. Of this about $1,700,000,000 represented investments in American-con- trolled enterprises. Investments in Cuba, Mexico, and Venezuela accounted for about 70 per cent of the total. In the four years 1946-1949, additional capital to a total of $1,066,000,000 was invested in the same countries, over half of it in Venezuela. In the meantime, considerable American capital had been repatriated, particularly from Cuba. So much for the recent movement of private American capital in the Caribbean area. Reliable figures for the current total direct investment of private capital do not exist, but it is probably under $3,000,000,000. By comparison, the market value of American holdings of the famous dollar bonds of the twenties is less than $50,000,000. These figures do not include the Export-Import Bank loans made in the past ten years, or loans of the International Bank to four of the republics. All twelve are what are called "underdeveloped" countries, that is, they have not realized the possibilities of economic development which their natural resources would appear to justify and which their national interests require. In other words, they have not caught up with the Industrial Revolution. By any standards, na- tional and average individual incomes are low. To right things they all need money-much more than they can accumulate in the course of the natural evolution of their present economies. And they are in a hurry. For their populations are growing too fast for what there is to distribute among them. As exporting nations, usually of a very few products, their economies are at the mercy of the international demand for the things they have to sell. They call themselves "colonial" nations, that is, like colonies, they have to trade the raw materials they produce for the manufactured goods they need. They are troubled, not only by the normal vicissitudes of foreign markets, but by the prospects of extraordinary disturbances inherent in the world situation today. They have lived in the economic backwash of two world wars, and they are afraid that if there is another war, a tidal wave will engulf their economies. The economic ties of this area with the United States are very close. With only one exception, at least two-thirds of the foreign trade of each country is with the United States. The total of United States private direct investments in the twelve republics in the middle of 1943 was approximately $2,048,000,000. Of this about $1,700,000,000 represented investments in American-con- trolled enterprises. Investments in Cuba, Mexico, and Venezuela accounted for about 70 per cent of the total. In the four years 1946-1949, additional capital to a total of $1,066,000,000 was invested in the same countries, over half of it in Venezuela. In the meantime, considerable American capital had been repatriated, particularly from Cuba. So much for the recent movement of private American capital in the Caribbean area. Reliable figures for the eurreont total direct investment of private capital do not exist, but it is probably under $3,000,000,000. By comparison, the market value of American holdings of the famous dollar bonds of the twenties is less than $50,000,000. These figures do not include the Export-Import Bank loans made in the past ten years, or loans of the International Bank to four of the republics. All twelve are what are called "underdeveloped" countries, that is, they have not realized the possibilities of economic development which their natural resources would appear to justify and which their national interests require. In other words, they have not caught up with the Industrial Revolution. By any standards, na- tional and average individual incomes are low. To right things they all need money-much more than they can accumulate in the course of the natural evolution of their present economies. And they are in a hurry. For their populations are growing too fast for what there is to distribute among them. As exporting nations, usually of a very few products, their economies are at the mercy of the international demand for the things they have to sell. They call themselves "colonial" nations, that is, like colonies, they have to trade the raw materials they produce for the manufactured goods they need. They are troubled, not only by the normal vicissitudes of foreign markets, but by the prospects of extraordinary disturbances inherent in the world situation today. They have lived in the economic backwash of two world wars, and they are afraid that if there is another war, a tidal wave will engulf their economies.  98 The Caribbean So if they seem to be in a hurry to shore up their national houses against the storm, it is understandable. For the economic storm- signals are up again all around the circuit of the Caribbean. The chance that this has been a good year for most of them does not lull them to the danger. For they consider the profits of 1950 and 1951 as a lucky windfall that might not come again soon. If civilian rationing of coffee and sugar, chocolate and bananas, should come again in the United States, they know that no amount of increased buying of the so-called strategic minerals could com- pensate for the damage to their basic agricultural industries. They also know that each war increases their dependence on the United States by destroying or weakening their alternative markets and sources of supply. Finally, they are afraid of the internal political repercussions of economic stringencies on the mood of populations whose margin of well-being is, at best, too small, and whose emotional boiling point is correspondingly low. As insurance against all the contingencies, economic and political, their governments have plans to modernize the national economy, or to increase the productive capacity of the country, or to raise the standard of living of the people. Whatever the terms in which the purpose is expressed, they all add up to much the same, that is, to strengthen the national life against the potential impact of outside forces. "Development," or fomento, has become a magic word in the process, and development programs are the order of the day. Some are quite elementary in their objectives and their mechanics; others are very comprehensive and embrace practically every segment of the national economy. They concern the direct phases of production-agricultural, mining, and manufacturing- as well as the various auxiliary functions or instrumentalities of the economy, such as electric power, transportation, land reclama- tion, tourist business, and the machinery of credit. They also concern the social or welfare functions, like housing, sanitation, and education, that are necessary to improve the general condi- tions of living of the population. The ambitious development program of Mexico covers virtually the whole range of interests and activities, from native artifacts and the "Campaign against Illiteracy" to irrigation dams and steel mills. At the other extreme, a few countries like Honduras have scarcely given thought to their future problems in terms of a concerted program of development. 98 The Caribbean 98 The Caribbean So if they seem to be in a hurry to shore up their national houses against the storm, it is understandable. For the economic storm- signals are up again all around the circuit of the Caribbean. The chance that this has been a good year for most of them does not lull them to the danger. For they consider the profits of 1950 and 1951 as a lucky windfall that might not come again soon. If civilian rationing of coffee and sugar, chocolate and bananas, should come again in the United States, they know that no amount of increased buying of the so-called strategic minerals could com- pensate for the damage to their basic agricultural industries. They also know that each war increases their dependence on the United States by destroying or weakening their alternative markets and sources of supply. Finally, they are afraid of the internal political repercussions of economic stringencies on the mood of populations whose margin of well-being is, at best, too small, and whose emotional boiling point is correspondingly low. As insurance against all the contingencies, economic and political, their governments have plans to modernize the national economy, or to increase the productive capacity of the country, or to raise the standard of living of the people. Whatever the terms in which the purpose is expressed, they all add up to much the same, that is, to strengthen the national life against the potential impact of outside forces. "Development," or fomento, has become a magic word in the process, and development programs are the order of the day. Some are quite elementary in their objectives and their mechanics; others are very comprehensive and embrace practically every segment of the national economy. They concern the direct phases of production-agricultural, mining, and manufacturing- as well as the various auxiliary functions or instrumentalities of the economy, such as electric power, transportation, land reclama- tion, tourist business, and the machinery of credit. They also concern the social or welfare functions, like housing, sanitation, and education, that are necessary to improve the general condi- tions of living of the population. The ambitious development program of Mexico covers virtually the whole range of interests and activities, from native artifacts and the "Campaign against Illiteracy" to irrigation dams and steel mills. At the other extreme, a few countries like Honduras have scarcely given thought to their future problems in terms of a concerted program of development. So if they seem to be in a hurry to shore up their national houses against the storm, it is understandable. For the economic storm- signals are up again all around the circuit of the Caribbean. The chance that this has been a good year for most of them does not lull them to the danger. For they consider the profits of 1950 and 1951 as a lucky windfall that might not come again soon. If civilian rationing of coffee and sugar, chocolate and bananas, should come again in the United States, they know that no amount of increased buying of the so-called strategic minerals could com- pensate for the damage to their basic agricultural industries. They also know that each war increases their dependence on the United States by destroying or weakening their alternative markets and sources of supply. Finally, they are afraid of the internal political repercussions of economic stringencies on the mood of populations whose margin of well-being is, at best, too small, and whose emotional boiling point is correspondingly low. As insurance against all the contingencies, economic and political, their governments have plans to modernize the national economy, or to increase the productive capacity of the country, or to raise the standard of living of the people. Whatever the terms in which the purpose is expressed, they all add up to much the same, that is, to strengthen the national life against the potential impact of outside forces. "Development," or fomento, has become a magic word in the process, and development programs are the order of the day. Some are quite elementary in their objectives and their mechanics; others are very comprehensive and embrace practically every segment of the national economy. They concern the direct phases of production-agricultural, mining, and manufacturing- as well as the various auxiliary functions or instrumentalities of the economy, such as electric power, transportation, land reclama- tion, tourist business, and the machinery of credit. They also concern the social or welfare functions, like housing, sanitation, and education, that are necessary to improve the general condi- tions of living of the population. The ambitious development program of Mexico covers virtually the whole range of interests and activities, from native artifacts and the "Campaign against Illiteracy" to irrigation dams and steel mills. At the other extreme, a few countries like Honduras have scarcely given thought to their future problems in terms of a concerted program of development.  TRADE 99 TRADE 99 TRADE 99 11 Granted the need for development, the next question is: Where is the money to come from? What sources of investment capital are available? The logical pool of investment capital-that is, a na- tional body of private savings and reserves fom profits-exists in quantity only in Mexico. And even there it is far from adequate for financing development plans that have been speeded up beyond the normal tempo of industrial evolution. For example, in the past ten years Mexico has borrowed over $350,000,000 from the Export- Import Bank and the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development. Appropriations from the regular revenues of the state, generally channeled through the Ministries of Public Works or Agriculture, account for much of the public funds that are destined to development purposes. It is significant that in most of the twelve republics the budget for public works exceeds that for military purposes. Sometimes, the government becomes a borrow- ing agent and makes bond issues for specific development objectives, as in this country. It has become customary for governments which have well- defined development programs to provide investment capital through the new administrative mechanisms. These tend to follow the general pattern of Chile's Corporacion del Fomento, and the trend will doubtless be towards concentrating all official develop- ment activities in such an organization. This procedure would end the autonomy of the specialized credit institutions like the Vene- zuelan Banco Agrario y Pecuario. A somewhat similar centralizing function is performed in Mexico by the Nacional Financiera. This agency has obtained twenty separate credits from the Export- Import Bank-a total of over $278,000,000, to be applied to such diverse objectives as highway construction, the purchase of rail- way rolling stock, the building of dams and power plants, and the financing of heavy industry in manufacturing and min- ing. In default of sufficient domestic capital from official and private sources, governments are forced to turn abroad for investment funds. In the search for money, they shun the New York broker- age houses, which floated the 8 per cent loans of the roaring twenties. The regular commercial banks are no more interested II Granted the need for development, the next question is: Where is the money to come from? What sources of investment capital are available? The logical pool of investment capital-that is, a na- tional body of private savings and reserves from profits-exists in quantity only in Mexico. And even there it is far from adequate for financing development plans that have been speeded up beyond the normal tempo of industrial evolution. For example, in the past ten years Mexico has borrowed over $350,000,000 from the Export- Import Bank and the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development. Appropriations from the regular revenues of the state, generally channeled through the Ministries of Public Works or Agriculture, account for much of the public funds that ame destined to development purposes. It is significant that in most of the twelve republics the budget for public works exceeds that for military purposes. Sometimes, the government becomes a borrow- ing agent and makes bond issues for specific development objectives, as in this country. It has become customary for governments which have well- defined development programs to provide investment capital through the new administrative mechanisms. These tend to follow the general pattern of Chile's Corporacidn del Fomento, and the trend will doubtless be towards concentrating all official develop- ment activities in such an organization. This procedure would end the autonomy of the specialized credit institutions like the Vene- zuelan Banco Agrario y Pecuario. A somewhat similar centralizing function is performed in Mexico by the Nacional Financiera. This agency has obtained twenty separate credits from the Export- Import Bank-a total of over $278,000,000, to be applied to such diverse objectives as highway construction, the purchase of rail- way rolling stock, the building of dams and power plants, and the financing of heavy industry in manufacturing and min- ing. In default of sufficient domestic capital from official and private sources, governments are forced to turn abroad for investment funds. In the search for money, they shun the New York broker- age houses, which floated the 8 per cent loans of the roaring twenties. The regular commercial banks are no more interested II Granted the need for development, the next question is: Where is the money to come from? What sources of investment capital are available? The logical pool of investment capital-that is, a na- tional body of private savings and reserves from profits-exists in quantity only in Mexico. And even there it is far from adequate for financing development plans that have been speeded up beyond the normal tempo of industrial evolution. For example, in the past ten years Mexico has borrowed over $350,000,000 from the Export- Import Bank and the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development. Appropriations from the regular revenues of the state, generally channeled through the Ministries of Public Works or Agriculture, account for much of the public funds that are destined to development purposes. It is significant that in most of the twelve republics the budget for public works exceeds that for military purposes. Sometimes, the government becomes a borrow- ing agent and makes bond issues for specific development objectives, as in this country. It has become customary for governments which have well- defined development programs to provide investment capital through the new administrative mechanisms. These tend to follow the general pattern of Chile's Coeporacion del Fomento, and the trend will doubtless be towards concentrating all official develop- ment activities in such an organization. This procedure would end the autonomy of the specialized credit institutions like the Vene- zuelan Banco Agrario y Pecuario. A somewhat similar centralizing function is performed in Mexico by the Nacional Financiera. This agency has obtained twenty separate credits from the Export- Import Bank-a total of over $278,000,000, to be applied to such diverse objectives as highway construction, the purchase of rail- way rolling stock, the building of dams and power plants, and the financing of heavy industry in manufacturing and min- ing. In default of sufficient domestic capital from official and private sources, governments are forced to turn abroad for investment funds. In the search for money, they shun the New York broker- age houses, which floated the 8 per cent loans of the roaring twenties. The regular commercial banks are no more interested  100 The Caribbean 100 The Caribbean 100 The Caribbean in the public investment field than are their counterparts in Latin America. On occasion, the United States Government has made direct grants which have had the effect of promoting the develop- ment of the republics, as in its financing of the Pan American Highway in Central America. The transfer of wartime airfields, for a token consideration, as in Cuba and Guatemala, the price support of silver, and purchases of strategic minerals for stockpiling have had similar results. But the United States Treasury does not pretend to serve as a general source of credit for the development plans of the Latin American republics. By a change which extended its original jurisdiction in the field of foreign trade, that wide function now belongs to the Export- Import Bank. The Export-Import Bank opens credits for the account of foreign governments and enterprises at interest rates of from 3.5 to 4.5 per cent. It has made loans for a total of over $423,000,000 to ten of the twelve Caribbean countries, the only exceptions being Guatemala and Honduras. About 85 per cent of the total has gone to Mexico and Colombia. It has helped to finance the agricultural development of the Artibonite Valley in Haiti; the construction of hotels in Colombia, the Dominican Re- public, Panama, and Venezuela; electric power plants in Mexico, Nicaragua, El Salvador, and Venezuela; the purchase of equipment for the railroads of Colombia, Cuba, and Mexico; the building of highways in Colombia and Mexico; and the equipment of a variety of industrial enterprises, chiefly in Mexico. An alternative source of investment capital is the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development. Since it is not a de- pendency of the United States Government, and as fewer strings are likely to be attached to the utilization of its credit facilities, there is a growing disposition on the part of some of the republics to appeal to it for assistance in their development projects. How- ever, its limited capital stock and loaning capacity and the world- wide demands made on its resources have restricted its activities in the Latin American field. In the past two years, the International Bank has granted eleven credits to four of the Caribbean countries-- Colombia, Mexico, Nicaragua, and El Salvador-for a total of a little over $115,000,000. The bulk of these funds have been destined for power development, but other fields of investment have been road building and repair, the purchase of agricultural machinery in the public investment field than are their counterparts in Latin America. On occasion, the United States Government has made direct grants which have had the effect of promoting the develop- ment of the republics, as in its financing of the Pan American Highway in Central America. The transfer of wartime airfields, for a token consideration, as in Cuba and Guatemala, the price support of silver, and purchases of strategic minerals for stockpiling have had similar results. But the United States Treasury does not pretend to serve as a general source of credit for the development plans of the Latin American republics. By a change which extended its original jurisdiction in the field of foreign trade, that wide function now belongs to the Export- Import Bank. The Export-Import Bank opens credits for the account of foreign governments and enterprises at interest rates of from 3.5 to 4.5 per cent. It has made loans for a total of over $423,000,000 to ten of the twelve Caribbean countries, the only exceptions being Guatemala and Honduras. About 85 per cent of the total has gone to Mexico and Colombia. It has helped to finance the agricultural development of the Artibonite Valley in Haiti; the construction of hotels in Colombia, the Dominican Re- public, Panama, and Venezuela; electric power plants in Mexico, Nicaragua, El Salvador, and Venezuela; the purchase of equipment for the railroads of Colombia, Cuba, and Mexico; the building of highways in Colombia and Mexico; and the equipment of a variety of industrial enterprises, chiefly in Mexico. An alternative source of investment capital is the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development. Since it is not a de- pendency of the United States Government, and as fewer strings are likely to be attached to the utilization of its credit facilities, there is a growing disposition on the part of some of the republics to appeal to it for assistance in their development projects. How- ever, its limited capital stock and loaning capacity and the world- wide demands made on its resources have restricted its activities in the Latin American field. In the past two years, the International Bank has granted eleven credits to four of the Caribbean countries- Colombia, Mexico, Nicaragua, and El Salvador-for a total of a little over $115,000,000. The bulk of these funds have been destined for power development, but other fields of investment have been road building and repair, the purchase of agricultural machinery in the public investment field than are their counterparts in Latin America. On occasion, the United States Government has made direct grants which have had the effect of promoting the develop- ment of the republics, as in its financing of the Pan American Highway in Central America. The transfer of wartime airfields, for a token consideration, as in Cuba and Guatemala, the price support of silver, and purchases of strategic minerals for stockpiling have had similar results. But the United States Treasury does not pretend to serve as a general source of credit for the development plans of the Latin American republics. By a change which extended its original jurisdiction in the field of foreign trade, that wide function now belongs to the Export- Import Bank. The Export-Import Bank opens credits for the account of foreign governments and enterprises at interest rates of from 3.5 to 4.5 per cent. It has made loans for a total of over $423,000,000 to ten of the twelve Caribbean countries, the only exceptions being Guatemala and Honduras. About 85 per cent of the total has gone to Mexico and Colombia. It has helped to finance the agricultural development of the Artibonite Valley in Haiti; the construction of hotels in Colombia, the Dominican Re- public, Panama, and Venezuela; electric power plants in Mexico, Nicaragua, El Salvador, and Venezuela; the purchase of equipment for the railroads of Colombia, Cuba, and Mexico; the building of highways in Colombia and Mexico; and the equipment of a variety of industrial enterprises, chiefly in Mexico. An alternative source of investment capital is the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development. Since it is not a de- pendency of the United States Government, and as fewer strings are likely to be attached to the utilization of its credit facilities, there is a growing disposition on the part of some of the republics to appeal to it for assistance in their development projects. How- ever, its limited capital stock and loaning capacity and the world- wide demands made on its resources have restricted its activities in the Latin American field. In the past two years, the International Bank has granted eleven credits to four of the Caribbean countries- Colombia, Mexico, Nicaragua, and El Salvador-for a total of a little over $115,000,000. The bulk of these funds have been destined for power development, but other fields of investment have been road building and repair, the purchase of agricultural machinery  TRADE 101 TRADE 101 TRADE for resale to farmers, and the erection of a plant for the drying and storage of grain. An interesting innovation in its operations has been the grant of a $10,000,000 credit to a consortium of eight Mexican banks and Nacional Financiera for the making of loans to small industrial concerns. This element in the Mexican economy largely consists of the rising class of enterprising industrialists associated with the Cdmara Nacional de la Industria de Transformacidn, whom Sanford Mosk calls "The New Group" in distinction from the older and more conservative capitalist class, whose financial roots go back to the pre-Revolutionary regime. In view of this belligerent nation- alism, it is natural that they should have recourse to the Inter- national Bank rather than to the Export-Import Bank for assistance in expanding their business enterprises. A special feature of the services performed by the International Bank for potential borrowers is the comprehensive survey of the nation's economy which it is prepared to undertake as a preliminary to making a sizable development loan. It has already made detailed studies of this kind for the governments of Colombia and Guatemala. Panama has requested a similar survey of its economic resources and needs, and a Bank mission of limited scope visited Cuba last year. The Bank is also helping the government of Nicaragua to draw up an over-all development program for the country. These detailed appraisals of a country's economic prob- lems and potentials by disinterested outsiders are of great value to the government in formulating its development plans on a more realistic basis than would otherwise be possible. III Closely related to the question of investment capital is the pro- vision of technical assistance or "know-how." Sometimes this is as important as the actual allocation of investment funds. The process of making available to the Latin Americans the benefits of our technological and operating experience has been going on for many years and through a wide variety of channels, both official and private. Without the knowledge gained in this way, the execu- tion of some of the development programs would be very seriously handicapped. for resale to farmers, and the erection of a plant for the drying and storage of grain. An interesting innovation in its operations has been the grant of a $10,000,000 credit to a consortium of eight Mexican banks and Nacional Financiera for the making of loans to small industrial concerns. This element in the Mexican economy largely consists of the rising class of enterprising industrialists associated with the Cdmara Nacional de la Industria de Transformacidn, whom Sanford Mosk calls "The New Group" in distinction from the older and more conservative capitalist class, whose financial roots go back to the pre-Revolutionary regime. In view of this belligerent nation- alism, it is natural that they should have recourse to the Inter- national Bank rather than to the Export-Import Bank for assistance in expanding their business enterprises. A special feature of the services performed by the International Bank for potential borrowers is the comprehensive survey of the nation's economy which it is prepared to undertake as a preliminary to making a sizable development loan. It has already made detailed studies of this kind for the governments of Colombia and Guatemala. Panama has requested a similar survey of its economic resources and needs, and a Bank mission of limited scope visited Cuba last year. The Bank is also helping the government of Nicaragua to draw up an over-all development program for the country. These detailed appraisals of a country's economic prob- lems and potentials by disinterested outsiders are of great value to the government in formulating its development plans on a more realistic basis than would otherwise be possible. III Closely related to the question of investment capital is the pro- vision of technical assistance or "know-how." Sometimes this is as important as the actual allocation of investment funds. The process of making available to the Latin Americans the benefits of our technological and operating experience has been going on for many years and through a wide variety of channels, both official and private. Without the knowledge gained in this way, the execu- tion of some of the development programs would be very seriously handicapped. for resale to farmers, and the erection of a plant for the drying and storage of grain. An interesting innovation in its operations has been the grant of a $10,000,000 credit to a consortium of eight Mexican banks and Nacional Financiera for the making of loans to small industrial concerns. This element in the Mexican economy largely consists of the rising class of enterprising industrialists associated with the Cdmara Nacional de la Industria de Transformacin, whom Sanford Mosk calls "The New Group" in distinction from the older and more conservative capitalist class, whose financial roots go back to the pre-Revolutionary regime. In view of this belligerent nation- alism, it is natural that they should have recourse to the Inter- national Bank rather than to the Export-Import Bank for assistance in expanding their business enterprises. A special feature of the services performed by the International Bank for potential borrowers is the comprehensive survey of the nation's economy which it is prepared to undertake as a preliminary to making a sizable development loan. It has already made detailed studies of this kind for the governments of Colombia and Guatemala. Panama has requested a similar survey of its economic resources and needs, and a Bank mission of limited scope visited Cuba last year. The Bank is also helping the government of Nicaragua to draw up an over-all development program for the country. These detailed appraisals of a country's economic prob- lems and potentials by disinterested outsiders are of great value to the government in formulating its development plans on a more realistic basis than would otherwise be possible. III Closely related to the question of investment capital is the pro- vision of technical assistance or "know-how." Sometimes this is as important as the actual allocation of investment funds. The process of making available to the Latin Americans the benefits of our technological and operating experience has been going on for many years and through a wide variety of channels, both official and private. Without the knowledge gained in this way, the execu- tion of some of the development programs would be very seriously handicapped.  102 The Caribbean Through its various cooperative programs, the Institute of Inter- American Affairs has made valuable contributions to the technical capacity of the countries in which it has operated. As the agency responsible for carrying out the Point Four Program in Latin America, its usefulness in this respect can be expected to increase greatly in the next few years. In addition to the capital invested in its special projects, the Venezuelan Basic Economy Corporation is adding to the store of technical knowledge in that country. The various training and interne programs provided for Latin Americans by the member agencies of the famous Interdepartmental Committee of the federal government have been responsible for creating a large body of skilled personnel in such fields as agricul- ture, mining and geology, fisheries, commercial aviation, meteor- ology, rural electrification, and fiscal administration. And long before Point Four was ever heard of, many experts in specialized lines were detailed to governments in the area under the provisions of Public Law 63 of the 76th Congress. This program, which was a particular interest of President Roosevelt, has since been brought within the scope of Public Law 402 of the 80th Congress, passed in 1948, which now regulates the government's activities in the general field of educational and scientific interchange. Another official source of technical advice is the International Bank, which is in the habit of assigning advisers to the governments to which it has loaned development funds. Private organizations which have contributed to the pool of scien- tific and technical knowledge in the area under our consideration include the Rockefeller Foundation, which, in addition to its work in medicine and public health, is now carrying on a project for the improvement of corn production in Mexico. Also, several American companies which operate in the Caribbean region, like Creole Oil, International Harvester, and Westinghouse Electric, are doing much, by their training programs, to raise the level of technical and managerial skills in these republics. In the same general connection, the agricultural school at Zamorano in Honduras, which was founded by the United Fruit Company, can be counted on to show a general improvement in farming methods throughout Central America as its graduates gain in experience and position. 102 The Caribbean 102 The Caribbean Through its various cooperative programs, the Institute of Inter- American Affairs has made valuable contributions to the technical capacity of the countries in which it has operated. As the agency responsible for carrying out the Point Four Program in Latin America, its usefulness in this respect can be expected to increase greatly in the next few years. In addition to the capital invested in its special projects, the Venezuelan Basic Economy Corporation is adding to the store of technical knowledge in that country. The various training and interne programs provided for Latin Americans by the member agencies of the famous Interdepartmental Committee of the federal government have been responsible for creating a large body of skilled personnel in such fields as agricul- ture, mining and geology, fisheries, commercial aviation, meteor- ology, rural electrification, and fiscal administration. And long before Point Four was ever heard of, many experts in specialized lines were detailed to governments in the area under the provisions of Public Law 63 of the 76th Congress. This program, which was a particular interest of President Roosevelt, has since been brought within the scope of Public Law 402 of the 80th Congress, passed in 1948, which now regulates the government's activities in the general field of educational and scientific interchange. Another official source of technical advice is the International Bank, which is in the habit of assigning advisers to the governments to which it has loaned development funds. Private organizations which have contributed to the pool of scien- tific and technical knowledge in the area under our consideration include the Rockefeller Foundation, which, in addition to its work in medicine and public health, is now carrying on a project for the improvement of corn production in Mexico. Also, several American companies which operate in the Caribbean region, like Creole Oil, International Harvester, and Westinghouse Electric, are doing much, by their training programs, to raise the level of technical and managerial skills in these republics. In the same general connection, the agricultural school at Zamorano in Honduras, which was founded by the United Fruit Company, can be counted on to show a general improvement in farming methods throughout Central America as its graduates gain in experience and position. Through its various cooperative programs, the Institute of Inter- American Affairs has made valuable contributions to the technical capacity of the countries in which it has operated. As the agency responsible for carrying out the Point Four Program in Latin America, its usefulness in this respect can be expected to increase greatly in the next few years. In addition to the capital invested in its special projects, the Venezuelan Basic Economy Corporation is adding to the store of technical knowledge in that country. The various training and interne programs provided for Latin Americans by the member agencies of the famous Interdepartmental Committee of the federal government have been responsible for creating a large body of skilled personnel in such fields as agricul- ture, mining and geology, fisheries, commercial aviation, meteor- ology, rural electrification, and fiscal administration. And long before Point Four was ever heard of, many experts in specialized lines were detailed to governments in the area under the provisions of Public Law 63 of the 76th Congress. This program, which was a particular interest of President Roosevelt, has since been brought within the scope of Public Law 402 of the 80th Congress, passed in 1948, which now regulates the government's activities in the general field of educational and scientific interchange. Another official source of technical advice is the International Bank, which is in the habit of assigning advisers to the governments to which it has loaned development funds. Private organizations which have contributed to the pool of scien- tific and technical knowledge in the area under our consideration include the Rockefeller Foundation, which, in addition to its work in medicine and public health, is now carrying on a project for the improvement of corn production in Mexico. Also, several American companies which operate in the Caribbean region, like Creole Oil, International Harvester, and Westinghouse Electric, are doing much, by their training programs, to raise the level of technical and managerial skills in these republics. In the same general connection, the agricultural school at Zamorano in Honduras, which was founded by the United Fruit Company, can be counted on to show a general improvement in farming methods throughout Central America as its graduates gain in experience and position.  TRADE 103 TRADE 103 IV So much for the economics and mechanics of investment. What about the conditions affecting investment-the "climate" of invest- ment? This is a composite of many factors, the most decisive of which are liable to be political rather than economic, and, therfore, more unpredictable than the normal risks of business enterprises. The investor must consider not only the basic factors of the extent and quality of the resources to be developed, the quantity and effi- ciency of the labor force, and the probable trends of the country's foreign trade; he must also consider the policies and attitudes of government, and the interests and emotions of groups behind the government. He must be willing to accept the hazards of an atmos- phere in which subjective terms like "revolution" and "imperialism" and "exploitation" may be part of the customary parlance of politics. Even though they may be used primarily for local effect, they are nevertheless reminders of explosive possibilities. He must accept the fact of the new nationalism, with all its implications-its militant assertion of national sovereignty, its latent xenophobia, its tendency to exaggerate the national potential and readiness for economic independence. One of the most important elements in the investment "climate" is the influence of domestic politics. This is particularly true of the pressure of labor as a special interest. In their bid for power the new politicos who lean towards the left naturally make an ap- peal for the support of the working class. This has been the recent pattern in Guatemala, as it is in Argentina, and as it would have been in Colombia if the Gaetin wing of the Liberal Party had triumphed. Candidates may arouse expectations in this group which they are unable or reluctant to satisfy once they ace in office. Meanwhile, popular emotions are aroused to the point where the government is no longer able to control the temper of its supporters, and business negotiations with investors on a reasonable basis be- come impossible. Whatever the particular merits of the current controversy between the Guatemalan Government and the United Fruit Company, the fact remains that an impasse like that between the Government of Iran and the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company is fast developing in Guatemala. And so long as this situation per- sists, private capital cannot be expected to look upon Guatemala as IV So much for the economics and mechanics of investment. What about the conditions affecting investment-the "climate" of invest- ment? This is a composite of many factors, the most decisive of which are liable to be political rather than economic, and, therefore, more unpredictable than the normal risks of business enterprises. The investor must consider not only the basic factors of the extent and quality of the resources to be developed, the quantity and effi- ciency of the labor force, and the probable trends of the country's foreign trade; he must also consider the policies and attitudes of government, and the interests and emotions of groups behind the government. He must be willing to accept the hazards of an atmos- phere in which subjective terms like "revolution" and "imperialism" and "exploitation" may be part of the customary parlance of politics. Even though they may be used primarily for local effect, they are nevertheless reminders of explosive possibilities. He must accept the fact of the new nationalism, with all its implications-its militant assertion of national sovereignty, its latent xenophobia, its tendency to exaggerate the national potential and readiness for economic independence. One of the most important elements in the investment "climate" is the influence of domestic politics. This is particularly true of the pressure of labor as a special interest. In their bid for power the new politicos who lean towards the left naturally make an ap- peal for the support of the working class. This has been the recent pattern in Guatemala, as it is in Argentina, and as it would have been in Colombia if the Gaetin wing of the Liberal Party had triumphed. Candidates may arouse expectations in this group which they are unable or reluctant to satisfy once they are in office. Meanwhile, popular emotions are aroused to the point where the government is no longer able to control the temper of its supporters, and business negotiations with investors on a reasonable basis be- come impossible. Whatever the particular merits of the current controversy between the Guatemalan Government and the United Fruit Company, the fact remains that an impasse like that between the Government of Iran and the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company is fast developing in Guatemala. And so long as this situation per- sists, private capital cannot be expected to look upon Guatemala as TRADE IUJ IV So much for the economics and mechanics of investment. What about the conditions affecting investment-the "climate" of invest- ment? This is a composite of many factors, the most decisive of which are liable to be political rather than economic, and, therefore, more unpredictable than the normal risks of business enterprises. The investor must consider not only the basic factors of the extent and quality of the resources to be developed, the quantity and effi- ciency of the labor force, and the probable trends of the country's foreign trade; he must also consider the policies and attitudes of government, and the interests and emotions of groups behind the government. He must be willing to accept the hazards of an atmos- phere in which subjective terms like "revolution" and "imperialism" and "exploitation" may be part of the customary parlance of politics. Even though they may be used primarily for local effect, they are nevertheless reminders of explosive possibilities. He must accept the fact of the new nationalism, with all its implications-its militant assertion of national sovereignty, its latent xenophobia, its tendency to exaggerate the national potential and readiness for economic independence. One of the most important elements in the investment "climate" is the influence of domestic politics. This is particularly true of the pressure of labor as a special interest. In their bid for power the new politicos who lean towards the left naturally make an ap- peal for the support of the working class. This has been the recent pattern in Guatemala, as it is in Argentina, and as it would have been in Colombia if the Gaetin wing of the Liberal Party had triumphed. Candidates may arouse expectations in this group which they are unable or reluctant to satisfy once they are in office. Meanwhile, popular emotions are aroused to the point where the government is no longer able to control the temper of its supporters, and business negotiations with investors on a reasonable basis be- come impossible. Whatever the particular merits of the current controversy between the Guatemalan Government and the United Fruit Company, the fact remains that an impasse like that between the Government of Iran and the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company is fast developing in Guatemala. And so long as this situation per- sists, private capital cannot be expected to look upon Guatemala as  104 The Caribbean 104 The Caribbean 104 The Caribbean a favorable field for investment, unless on highly speculative terms. The tendency of labor to ignore economic realities in its demands is illustrated by the experience of Mexico, where, as Frank Tannen- baum points out, the industrial workers obtained benefits whose cost is out of line with the needs for the accumulation of investment capital in Mexican industry. Another device for paying off the debt of a political party to its labor backers is to turn over the bill to the foreign companies in the form of requirements for increased welfare benefits and support of union demands for higher wages and other advantages. Recourse to this device in Venezuela has resulted in one of the highest ratios of labor costs to productivity of any country on earth. Among other psychological factors in this general problem is a basic distrust of private initiative or enterprise, either national or foreign, in favor of dependence on government action. This attitude might be understandable in old and battered nations like Britain, whose people decided for a time in favor of state socialism, because they believed that the country could no longer afford the competitive effects of unrestrained free enterprise. In young countries like those around the Caribbean, it is a sign of premature national senility, if not a confession of the individual's distrust of his own economic capacity. For organized labor, the elimination of the profit motive from industry strengthens its own power, as a political pressure group, to obtain its demands. For it, the issue then becomes one of whether the return in investment capital should take the form of social dividends or of dividends in money. V As everywhere, the conditions of capital investment in the Carib- bean republics are increasingly at the mercy of the international situation. With the mounting costs of defense preparations, less capital will be available for investment in normal industrial develop- ment abroad. Increasing pressure is being put on lending agencies like the Export-Import Bank and the International Bank to sub- sidize the establishment of strategic enterprises that bear little relation to long-term peacetime needs. An example is the Export- Import Bank's credit, granted this year, for the financing of a sulphur plant in Mexico. Continued international tensions, whether a favorable field for investment, unless on highly speculative terms. The tendency of labor to ignore economic realities in its demands is illustrated by the experience of Mexico, where, as Frank Tannen- baum points out, the industrial workers obtained benefits whose cost is out of line with the needs for the accumulation of investment capital in Mexican industry. Another device for paying off the debt of a political party to its labor backers is to turn over the bill to the foreign companies in the form of requirements for increased welfare benefits and support of union demands for higher wages and other advantages. Recourse to this device in Venezuela has resulted in one of the highest ratios of labor costs to productivity of any country on earth. Among other psychological factors in this general problem is a basic distrust of private initiative or enterprise, either national or foreign, in favor of dependence on government action. This attitude might be understandable in old and battered nations like Britain, whose people decided for a time in favor of state socialism, because they believed that the country could no longer afford the competitive effects of unrestrained free enterprise. In young countries like those around the Caribbean, it is a sign of premature national senility, if not a confession of the individual's distrust of his own economic capacity. For organized labor, the elimination of the profit motive from industry strengthens its own power, as a political pressure group, to obtain its demands. For it, the issue then becomes one of whether the return in investment capital should take the form of social dividends or of dividends in money. V As everywhere, the conditions of capital investment in the Carib- bean republics are increasingly at the mercy of the international situation. With the mounting costs of defense preparations, less capital will be available for investment in normal industrial develop- ment abroad. Increasing pressure is being put on lending agencies like the Export-Import Bank and the International Bank to sub- sidize the establishment of strategic enterprises that bear little relation to long-term peacetime needs. An example is the Export- Import Bank's credit, granted this year, for the financing of a sulphur plant in Mexico. Continued international tensions, whether a favorable field for investment, unless on highly speculative terms. The tendency of labor to ignore economic realities in its demands is illustrated by the experience of Mexico, where, as Frank Tannen- baum points out, the industrial workers obtained benefits whose cost is out of line with the needs for the accumulation of investment capital in Mexican industry. Another device for paying off the debt of a political party to its labor backers is to turn over the bill to the foreign companies in the form of requirements for increased welfare benefits and support of union demands for higher wages and other advantages. Recourse to this device in Venezuela has resulted in one of the highest ratios of labor costs to productivity of any country on earth. Among other psychological factors in this general problem is a basic distrust of private initiative or enterprise, either national or foreign, in favor of dependence on government action. This attitude might be understandable in old and battered nations like Britain, whose people decided for a time in favor of state socialism, because they believed that the country could no longer afford the competitive effects of unrestrained free enterprise. In young countries like those around the Caribbean, it is a sign of premature national senility, if not a confession of the individual's distrust of his own economic capacity. For organized labor, the elimination of the profit motive from industry strengthens its own power, as a political pressure group, to obtain its demands. For it, the issue then becomes one of whether the return in investment capital should take the form of social dividends or of dividends in money. V As everywhere, the conditions of capital investment in the Carib- bean republics are increasingly at the mercy of the international situation. With the mounting costs of defense preparations, less capital will be available for investment in normal industrial develop- ment abroad. Increasing pressure is being put on lending agencies like the Export-Import Bank and the International Bank to sub- sidize the establishment of strategic enterprises that bear little relation to long-term peacetime needs. An example is the Export- Import Bank's credit, granted this year, for the financing of a sulphur plant in Mexico. Continued international tensions, whether  TRADE 105 TRADE 105 TRADE orenot they end in open war, are cerainmtohaveneen greater diturbing effect on the normral courseof foreign trade and on the exchange vatlue and hnying poteer of cutreencies. The inetmtent "climrate" for tottnd developmrent projects trill be progessively renderedthtrmuch lessfavorable. Inothertwrods, noonry can expect to progress in the toay and at the rate ithasta right to expect so longas the wranld carries this moontrous rden of tear orepreparation for wcar. Thatrisasrtrre offaiti orHondurasastit it of the United Stater. In such an atmeorphere, no notion can be hlamred if it dreams of finding relief in efforts at antrchy or economic self-sufficiency, howeever ill-prepaeed it may be for that formrofeconomic ecapism. VI On ther merits, dirortociated from the alarums of tone and the incidence of emootional and political factors, anoexcelleot rate ran he made foe the developmoent programt of the Carihhean contriet. Natorally, the pattern mart vary greatly from one to another. More plain hosners tonse it needed in the planning and application of theme programs. They should he strictly tailored to the capacitiet of the crantry, and their sponsort thould recognize that most of there repuhlict can no more he sofficient onto themtelves than can Florida or my state of Arizona. We hoth may hr economic "colonies" of Noe Yorh, hot in the meantime me manage to do rather well in our colonialevasalage. Thergoermetsof the re- pohicsr mott not try to mahe their deelopment progeams the occasioeforea"Revolution"mwith acapital "R." They rhould not mahe a fetith of indusreialization, or in their plant for agricultaral deelopmoent they tend to morship the calt of the tractor heoe they hare gieen the pinow a trial. And in their need for capital it millhbeto theirnadvantage intherlngrun to rely more onprite sucsand on the contrihutionstwhich American direct invetments can mahe to their welfare. Their hogy of American "ecoenomic imperialism" has no substance, and the social record of American private enterprire in there timer it a hetter guaeantee of their notional interests than ran he provided hy any amount of etrictive or not they endin open tone, ame certain to hare an even greater distorhing effect on the normal roure of foreign trade and on the enchange valor anedhbuying powrofcurecier. The investment "climate" foe tond development projects mill he progesniely renderedthatrmuchlessrfavorahle. Inothermwords,no conry can rnpect tn progress in the tray and at the raterit hasa right to epectsoilongasheworldcrriesthismontros hurdeof mar or preparation for toar. That is or trot of Haiti or Honduras as it it of the United Stater. In soch an atmosphere, no notion can he hlamed if it dreamt of finding relief in efforts or autarchy or economic self-snfficiency, howeever ill-prepared it may he foe that form of economic escpism. VI On their merits, disassociared from the alarams of tone and the incidenceof emotional and piical factor, an encelleotrcasecan hr made foe the development programs of the Carihhbean coontries. Natorally, the pattern mart vary greatly from one to another. More plain hasinert renre it needed in the planning and application of there programr. They rhould he strictly tailored to the copartier of the coontry, and their sponsors shoald recognize that mart of there repohicsr can no more he sofficient onto themselver than can Florida or my state of Arirona. We hoth may he economic "colonier" of NewmYork, hot in the meantime we manage re do ratherwell in oarcolial vassalag. The govermments of the re- publics mart not try to moake their development programs the occasion foe a "Revoluttion" tenth a capital "R." They rhoald not mahe a fetith of industrialization, or in their plant foe agricoltoral development they trod to morthip the colt of the tractor hefore they have gieno the plow a trial. And in their nerd for capital it willhbe totheireadvantage inthr long ran torely moeeonprivate sucsand on the contribihons which American direct inveetments ran mahe to their melfare. Their hogy of American "economic imprialism" hoe no substance, and the tocial record of American prieatreenterprise in there timer it a hetter garantee of their national iot errors than canhbeprovidedhbyanyamont of restrictie ornotthey end in openmwar, are ertain to have an evee greater distarhing effect on the normal courre of foreign trade and on the each ange valor and hbuyieg pomer of cureeoie. The investment "climate" for soond development peojects will he progrenively rendererdthatmuchlessfvoral. In otherords,no country can expect to progress in the tray and or the rote it has a right to rexport solong as the world carrier thisemnstroushordeof mar oreprepaeationforemar. Thart isat tre of Haiti or Hondura sit as of the United Starer. In each an atmosphere, no nation cnn hr hlamed if it dreamt of finding relief in efforts at autarchy or economiceelf-sficiency, hamevereill-prpared itmayhbefor that form ofreconomic ecapism. VI On their merite, disassociated from the alarms of tear and the incidenceof emotionoaad pliicl fctor, anexcellentcasercan he made for the developmntrprogramsof the Caihean counrie. Naturally, the pattern most vary greatly from one to another. More plain hosners mene it needed in the planning and application of there programs. They ehould he strictly tailored to the coparter of the contry, and their sponsors shoold ecognize that mart of there repohics con o more he sufflcienr ooto rhemeler than can Florida or my tame of Arizona. We hoth may he economic "colonies" of Nem York, hot in the meantime me manage Co da rathermwell in oor colonial vasslage. The governmets of the re- pubhice mart not try to mahe their development programs the occasion for a "Revolution" with a capital "R." They should not moake a fetith of indoetrialization, or in their plant for agricultual development they teed to worehip the colt of the tractor hefore they have given the pinow a trial. And in their eeed far capital it will he to their advantage in the long ron to ely more on private soorcee and on the contrihotins tohich Amrerican direct ievestments con moake to their melfae. Their hogy of Amercan "economnic imperialism" hoe no rohstance, and the social record of American private enterprie in there timer it a helter guaantee of their national ioerests thanecanhbeppovidedhyany amont of resrictive  106 The Caribbean BIBLIOGRAPHY 1951-1952 (Was~hngton, 1951), Chatpter XVI. Newt Yortk, Autgust 25, 1951. Yortk, Nvebe, 1950; Februarty antd Septmber, 1951). Yor'k, 1941). Januar,,y 1, 1948), (Chicatgo, 1949). Gordont, Wentdell C. The Economty of Ltin Amertica (Netw York, 1990), Par III. 1951).Gaeal,15) Ecooma sbr 190191 pWro tgtrata 1951)irn."(utml,15) 1951l).190) Y(Nek 1045)19, hPat 4-. Yepor, 1950,51 (Wh shpttt on 11-14 . t tgthett Peit" (atttiton, 1NttY9k5 94),p.) 5-19 Angelest, 1929). Wyson, Gtult., antdtC.tAdiso Htickmantt,. P a Aerca Economic (New199) 106 The Caribbean 106 The Caribbean BIBLIOGRAPHY 1951-1952 (Washintgton, 1951), Chatpter XVI. Nttw Yttrk, Attgtttt 25, 1951. Tht Chttse Nationatl Ettnk. "Ltttin-Amerticant Business Highlight" (Nttt Yttrk, Novemttbtt, 1950; Ftbruarty antd Septemtbt, 1951). Congttss fott tht Peiotd Januattty-Junet, 1951" (Wasohittgtont, 1951). Ytrk, 1941). Januar~ty 1, 0049), (Ghicttgt, 1949). Gordontt, Wendetll C. The Economty of Ltin America (Nttw Yttrk, 1950), Pttrt III. 1951).Gaeal,15) "ENt siit Y dk, 1949),nt Pttt ItV.pbiCuddn Rtpttiatt r 190191 pWro tgttttt 1951)irn."(utml,15) Attt51) 190) Yttek 1945)19),httpttt 4I. Reaot, 1950,51 (Whtt inttt n 11-14. Utetional Ntttittttnt AEttttvtior DBoltattt iPtnerast inttttress:a Relot, tthettPrettidenAttt (Wa ttlngton, 1950" tthtgttt.15) Wittkl, ar . Indus'tttal Refution int Mexiot itrkle L ani d Los,' Anettettt, 1959). Wltht, GtttlgR. Ityi, a ba.d ison Hickmta. Pta Aerca Ntonmic (New94) BIBLIOGRAPHY The Brookittgs Institttitt. Majort Protblems, of United StatesFPrign, Policy 1051-1952 (Wasitgtont, 1951), Ghapter XVI. Bttsiness Wee. "Bttsiness Week Rtptto ttEttecutives on Soutth Amertia." New' Yoak, Attgttst 25, 1951. Tht Chaset National Battk. "Ltttitt-American Bttsittss Highlight" )Nttt Ytttk, Novembe, 1950; Ftbruary antd Stptetmbert, 1951). Contgress ort tht Peitd Jattttty-Junet, 1951" (Wttshittgtttt, 1951). Ytttk, 1941). Fitttgibhan, Rttssell H. )tA). Theo Constlitutions ttf tht, Atmaricas (tsotf Janary 1, 1940), (Chicttgt, 1949). Gordona, Wettdell C. Thte Ecttnttmy of Ltin Ameria (Ntet Yotk, 1950), Pttrt III. .utml."pechofthe At. CoidnelJactt Abn IttRtAittt, Mac tht Ecoomia wbtt stt ptttgtttttt Ae gttbiettt." (Gutematttla, 1951). 1951). (New Ytttk, 1949), Partt IV. Rtetttt 1950-1951" (Wtshintgtont, 1951). Iternatittnal Devltpmentt Advisory Boartd. "Patneoa it Progress: aRpt to t Prsidettt" (Wttshingtont, 1951). Mttsk, Sanford A. Industrttl Rluttttion it, Metticot (Berkeley ad Los Atgeles, 1950). Olsot, Pattl R., antd C. AAAiona Hickmantt. Pan Ameran, Economicstt (Nttw Ytttk, 1945), Chatpters 4-0. Yoak, 1950), Chtpttrs 11-14. Prttgtamttes anod Agtttie" (Ntet Vark, 1947), pp. 152-149. Uttited Statets Dtpartmtttt of Sttet. "U. S. Bilateal Technical Assitttct: Gtterntt tatl Agtttcies FiscaI Ytear 1950" (Washitgton, 1950). inFttrtign Gottttest" (Washingtttn, 1942). (Bot, 1929). Wyte, Gteotgt. In'tdutry it, Lati, Ametiic. (2ndA td., New, YorkA, 1949).  TRADE 107 TRADE 107 TRADE 107 APPENDIX A (At end of1950) Colombia 28.3 54.1 23.6 22.8 5.4 1.1 1.2 Costa Rica .5 2.9 2.9 Cuba 12.8 23.1 10.7 2.4 El Salvador 2.2 3.5 3.5 Guatemal .2 .4 .4 Mexico. 3.9 27.8 7.0 20.8 Panama. 10.1 12.1 10.1 Total: 58.0 111.9 58.2 22.8 5.4 21.9 3.6 Soure: Uaitd Sate Department of Comerce. APPENDIX B Loan toth Caribbean, Republics (1949-1 951) $ 5,000,000.00 (7 years) Caja de Crbdito Agrario, Industrial y Mineroo. Purchase of agiuturl mahiney. 3,500,000.00 (20 years) Central Hidoool6.loko del Rio Anchicayl. Power developmenot in the Cauca Valley. 2,600,000.00 (20 years) Central Hid.,,,16.tric de Caldas. Power, developmenot inMaialsara 16,500,000.00 (10 years,) Government of Coobi. Highwa.y consttiont, ad rehabiitao.. Total:~ $27,600,000.00 APPENDIX A (At end of 1950) Colom,,bia 28.3 54.1 23.6 22.8 5.4 1.1 1.2 Costa Rica. .5 2.9 2.9 Cuba 12.8 13.2 20.7 2.4 El Salvador 2.2 3.5 3.5 Guatela .2 .4 .4 Mexico 3.9 27.8 7.2 20.8 Panama. 10.1 10.1 10.2 Total: 58.0 111.9 58.2 22.8 5.4 21.9 3.6 APPENDIX B Loan to th Caribbeano Republics (1949-1 951) CLOMBIA $ 5,000,000.00 (7 years) Caj, de Cr6dito Agrario, Induostrial y 9,82,,. Purchase of agricultural machinery. 3,500,000.00 (20 years) Central Hidrce16ctoica del Rio Anchicayl. Power development in, the Cauca. Valley. 2,600,000.00 (20 years) Central HidmelOctrica de Colda. P,,ower deveopment in Maizals aea 16,500,000.00 (10 years) G.oernetof, . Colom.bia. Highway7 .o~lnsrcion, and rehabilitation. Total: $27,600,000.00 APPENDIX A (At end of1950) Colombia 28.3 54.1 23.6 22.8 5.4 1.1 1.2 Costa Ri.. .5 2.9 2.9 Cuba 12.8 13.1 10.7 2.4 El Salvaodor 2.2 3.5 3.3 Gutemala .2 .4 .4 (redeemod) Mexic. 3.9 27.8 7.0 20.8 Panama. 20.1 10.2 10.1 Totl: 58.0 121.9 58.2 22.8 5.4 22.9 3.6 APPENDIX B Loan toth Caribbean, Republics (1949-1951) COL.OMBIA $ 5,000,000.00 (7 years) Caja do Cr~dit, Agoar.o, Indusril y Miner. Purchase oogricululmac..hinery. 3,500,000.00 (20 yeaos) Cent8al Hidroel16.Sic. del Rio Anchiooy. Power, devopment, in the Cauca Vlley. 2,600,000.00 (20 years) Central Hidme16ctIca de Colda. Powero developmenot in, Manizlesara 16,500,000.00 (10 years) Government of Colomboi. Highwa.y constoucion and ,ohalitatio. Total: $27,600,000.02  108 The Caribbean EL. 0SLVADO $12,500,000.00 (25 years) Government of0 El Salvador. Power Developmentf RioLemp. $24,100,000.00 (25 years) Cosii0, Federalt de Electriidad satd Natna Finatnciera. Pstter devlpmenst. 10,000,000.00 (1 year; refuntded) Psoter developmenst. 26,000,000.00 (25 years) Mexsicant Light sttd Psower Co., Ltd. Power, devetopmtent. 10,000,000.00 Contiumf ight bask nd NtioalFinancieras. Finacilds~sidstetotSmallcopansis. Total: $20,100,000.00 $ 2,500,000.00 (10 yetrt) Hightsaycostrucstio. 1,200,000.00 (7 years) Bancos Ntisonal. Purhselof iulturatlt maciney. TotsI: $4,700,000.00 GRAND TOTAL: $114,000,000.00 APPENDIX C Credits grated tt Caribbean, Republics (t) $20,000,000.00 (2 lotnt) Governmenst of Colomsbia. Material,qipmet and eics (2) 10,000,000.00 Ctjt de Cr~dits Agrar~io, Intdutrial y Mineros. Materiast t,,d equiipmet. (27 8,500,000.00 Bancot de Ia epublica, for Etmprsa de Ettergia Electrica, S.A. Materials ad qipments. (4) 6,502,389.00 (a) 5,000,000.00 Raiilwaiy equipment1. (b) 1,502,200.00 Disel locomostivs. 108 The Caribbean EL. OSLVADOR $12,500,000.00 (25 yeas)~ Governmt ot~f ElSlvdort. $24,100,000.00 (25 years) Cstsin Federal de Elcriia and National Financier. Power, developmentt. 10,000,000.00 (1 year;trfuntded) Power~ develospmen~t. 26,000,000.00 (25 years) Mexicatn Light and Power, Cs., Ltd. Psower developmenst. 10,000,000.00 Cosorstiumttofleight bastansd NatonalFinancier. Financtilstatssistetosmllscompantis. Total:~ $00,100,000.00 $ 3,500,000.00 (tO yeas) Governmet otf Nicargu. Hlighwasycostrctionts,. 1,200,000.00 (2 years) Banco Nationl. Purchsefsgiclturl mahiney. Ttal: $4,200,000.00 GRAND TOTAL: $114,900,000.00 Adated fomss Si sth AsstualOReport 1950-1951. APPENDIX C EXPOR-IMPORT, BANK O WASHINGTON, Credits granted Is tOh, Caribean Republis (1) $20,000,000.00 (2 loans)( Goversment sof Cslombia. Materias, equipmenstaserics (2) 10,000,000.00 Cajs de CrOdito Agrario, Indstrial y Mitnsr. Materias and eqsipmenst. (3) 8,500,000.00 Banco de la Republica, for Emtprsai de Esergia EIctrica, S.A. Materials ad qipment,. (4) 6,503,389.00 Governmenst sof Csolombia fos, National Railway Admiistrsatio. (a) 5,000,000.00 RaiIlway squipmenst. (b) 1,503,300.00 108 The Caribbean EtL OSLVADOR $12,500,000.00 (25 years) Governmen,,t sof El Slvado. Power Developmenstof Rio Lemp. $14,100,000.00 (25 years) Cstsi~t Pederal de Electricidad and Ntional Pinancier. Powesr developmentt. 10,000,000.00 (1 year; refunded) Powers developmenst. 26,000,000.00 (20 yeas)~ Mexican Light and Potwer Co., Ltd. Power, deveslopmet. 10,000,000.00 Cosortstiumtof eight bankts adNtionaslinanier. Financials assstetsmll compais. Total: $20,100,000.00 $ 5,500,000.00 (10 yeas) Gsvernmt of Nicaragu. Hlighwasycostrutio. 1,200,000.00 (7 years) Basco Nationasl. Purchase ofgiclturltmahiney. Total: $4,200,000.00 GRAND TOTAL: $114,000,000.00 Aptdfo ixth AnnsslORpt, 150191. APPENDIX C EXPORT,-IMPssOsRT , BAN sO WASHITONs Credits granted Is thes Caribean Republis COLOMBI (1)( $20,000,000.00 (2 Ioans) Gssvsrsment sof Csosombi. Materiast, equipmenst ansdsics. (2) 10,000,000.00 Caja de Credito Agsards, Indstril y Missss. Materias and equipments. (3) 8,500,000.00 Easco de Is epblic, os Esmprsa de Esesgis Electric, S.A. Materialts deqipmenst. (4) 6,503,200.00 Gsvernmentsof Colsombia fos Natisnal Railway Admiistratios. (a) 5,000,000.00 Railwasy equipsmen. (b) 1,503,300.00 Disel Isosomstivs.  TRADE (5) 3,057,600.00 Banco de la Repiblica, for Hotel San Diego, S.A. Goods and services for construction. (6) 13,678,609.44 (7 credits) Government of Colombia. Seagoing dredge, highway construction, busses, railroad ma construction of grain storage facilities, etc. (7) 20,000,000.00 (Nov., 1951, 15 months) Government of Colombia. $ To finance imports of cotton. Total: $81,739,598.44 (Principal repaid $17,493,432.65) COSTA RICA $ 7,000,000.00 Government of Costa Rica. Construction materials and service. CUBA C $12,000,000.00 Cuban Electric Company. Equipment, materials, and services. DOMINICAN REPUBLIC $ 3,000,000.00 Dominican Government. Materials, equipment, and services for hotel construction. HA 500 $ 5,000,000.00 Si6. Haitiano-Americaine de Developpement Agricole. Agricultural development of Artibonite Valley. 14,000,000.00 Government of Haiti Construction materials, equipment, and services. Total: $19,000,000.00 MEXICO (1) $278,472,767.17 (20 credits) Nacional Financiera. (a) $ 30,972,767.17 Highway construction, equipment, and services. (b) 8,000,000.00 Steel mill equipment: Altos Hornos de Mexico. (c) 19,000,000.00 Railroad equipment: National Railways. (d) 20,000,000.00 Materials and supplies. (e) 344,250.00 Equipment, facilities, and services. (f) 3,500,000.00 Electrical equipment: Nueva Ca. Eectrica. Ch (g) 5,000,000.00 Agricultural equipment. 109 TRADE 109 (5) 3,057,600.00 Banco de la Repiblica, for Hotel San Diego, S.A. Goods and services for construction. (6) 13,678,609.44 (7 credits) Government of Colombia. terials, Seagoing dredge, highway construction, busses, railroad materials, construction of grain storage facilities, etc. (7) 20,000,000.00 (Nov., 1951, 15 months) Government of Colombia. To finance imports of cotton. Total: $81,739,598.44 (Principal repaid $17,493,432.65) COSTA RICA $ 7,000,000.00 Government of Costa Rica. Construction materials and service. CUBAR $12,000,000.00 Cuban Electric Company. Equipment, materials, and services. DOMINICAN REPUBC $ 3,000,000.00 Dominican Government. Materials, equipment, and services for hotel construction. HATIA $ 5,000,000.00 Si6. Haitiano-Amiricaine de Developpement Agricole. Agricultural development of Artibonite Valley. 14,000,000.00 Government of Haiti Construction materials, equipment, and services. Total: $19,000,000.00 (1) $278,472,767.17 (20 credits) Nacional Financiera. (a) $ 30,972,767.17 Highway construction, equipment, and services. (b) 8,000,000.00 Steel mill equipment: Altos Hons de Mexico. (c) 19,000,000.00 Railroad equipment: National Railways. (d) 20,000,000.00 Materials and supplies. (e) 344,250.00 Equipment, facilities, and services. (f) 3,500,000.00 apala. Electrical equipment: Nueva Cia. E16ctrica. Chapala. (g) 5,000,000.00 Agricultural equipment. TRADE 109 (5) 3,057,600.00 Banco de la Repnblica, for Hotel San Diego, S.A. Goods and services for construction. (6) 13,678,609.44 (7 credits) Government of Colombia. Seagoing dredge, highway construction, busses, railroad materials, construction of grain storage facilities, etc. (7) 20,000,000.00 (Nov., 1951, 15 months) Government of Colombia. To finance imports of cotton. Total: $81,739,598.44 (Principal repaid $17,493,432.65) COSTA RICA $ 7,000,000.00 Government of Costa Rica. Construction materials and service. CUBA $12,000,000.00 Cuban Electric Company. Equipment, materials, and services. DOMINICAN REPUBLIC $ 3,000,000.00 Dominican Government. Materials, equipment, and services for hotel construction. HAITI $ 5,000,000.00 Sie. Haitian-Am6ricaine de De6veloppement Agricole. Agricultural development of Artibonite Valley. 14,000,000.00 Government of Haiti Construction materials, equipment, and services. Total: $19,000,000.00 MEXICO (1) $278,472,767.17 (20 credits) Nacional Financiera. (a) $ 30,972,767.17 Highway construction, equipment, and services. (b) 8,000,000.00 Steel mill equipment: Altos Hornos de Mexico. (c) 19,000,000.00 Railroad equipment: National Railways. (d) 20,000,000.00 Materials and supplies. (e) 344,250.00 Equipment, facilities, and services. (f) 3,500,000.00 Electrical equipment: Nueva Cia. E16ctrica. Chapala. (g) 5,000,000.00 Agricultural equipment.  The Caribbean 110 The Caribbean 110 The Caribbean (h) 7,000,000.00 Railwooy oqutipmenot. (i) 5,000,000.00 Sugar toill equipmenot. (j) 6,000,000.00 Ammoiuom sulphate plant. (k) 1,515,750.00 Toampico-Ciudad Madoto wtootr orksl. (1) 12,900,000.00 Roilowoy equipment: National Roflwoays. (to) 5,000,000.00 Roilwoay eqoipoetoot Southern Pacifi Railwtay of (nt) 2,740,000.00 Coal moine developmet. (o) 1,500,000.00 Root mterools. (p) 014,000,000.00 (1950) Dovlopmoent of agricltltoe, transportttionomm, i ctions,adlct~ipower. (0) 10,500,000.00 Folcbo Doo, oand potoor platnt. (r) 1,000,000.00 Anzalduas Doo,. 00 1,500,000.00 Yaqui Alto Coanol. (t) 5,000,000.00 Expnion fteel mill. (0) 1,005,500.87 Fred Leighto,Inco. Devlopmeof of hoodicoofts in~dostries. (5) 000,000.00 Cia. Foodidoto do Fioeoo y Aoooo do Montooooy, S.A. (4) 0,875,000.00 Moojian Glf 8Sulphur and Mooxican Sulphuro Co. Erection, of sulphur ploot. Totol: $080,257,558.04 (Ropoid $40,862,729.89) NtoARAGUA (1) 2,000,000.00 Governmeont of Nictoago. Constrution moatorals, oqoipmtont, ond servicos. (2) 600,000.00 Goveroomont of Nioooogoa, for Etopooto do Loz y Fuoena El&- trlto, S.A. Eqoipmeoot foo powoor plant. Totol: $2,600,000.00 (h) 7,000,000.00 Roilwooy eqoipmooot. )i) 5,000,000.00 Sogoo moill oqoiptoot. ( 0 ,000,000.00 Amoium soiphato plont. (k) 0,515,050.00 Tamopico-Ciodad Madoto wtoero woork. (1) 12,000,000.00 Roilwaoy equipmentt: Nodtol Railwaty. (om) 5,000,000.00 Railwoay oqoipmonot Soothoto Pocfio Railwoay of Mooii00. (n) 2,740,000.00 Cool m~ine developmenot. (o) 1,500,000.00 Roao ottoojl. (p) 004,000,000.00 (1950) Devolopmoont of ogricoltoto, transportatio, omouooi- cotioos,oodltipoweo. (q) 02,500,000.00 Poltbo Dot, and potwot ploot. (o) 1,000,000.00 Aoooldoos Coo,. (s) 07,500,000.00 Yoqoi Alto Canl. (t) 5,000,000.00 Expansionoof steeltmill. (2) 1,079,500.82 Food Leighton, Iot. Developmeootof handicraftsindutrie. (5) 000,000.00 Cit. Fondidoro do Fiooro y Atoro do Moteooty, S.A. Stool moill ood oloctoicol oqoipmeont. (4) 0,875,000.00 Mooitoo Golf Solphor and Mooicao Solphor Co. Eoottioo of solphor plont. Totol: $202,127,558.04 (Ropaid $40,862,229.89) NIoARooUA (1) 2,000,000.00 Govermttooof Nicarogu. Coostroottion mtoorooals, oqoipmeott, atnd sooito. (2) 600,000.00 G~ovooromeot of Nictotgu, for Empooso do Loz y Foorza 0160- otic, S.A. Eqoipomont for powooo plot. Tothl $2,600,000.00 (h) 7,000,000.00 Roiltway eqoipmoent. )i) 5,000,000.00 Sugar omill eqoipmenot. (j) 6,000,000.00 Amoniuomo solphato plot. (k) 1,505,750.00 Toompico-Ciodad Modeto wtero orks. (1) 12,900,000.00 Roilwaoy oqoiptooo: Notiooal Roiloway. (mt) 5,000,000.00 Roiltway oqoipmt: Soothtorn Patific Ralwaty of Mexico. (n) 2,240,000.00 Cool omioe developmentt. (o) 1,500,000.00 Root mtoeool. (p) 114,000,000.00 (1950) Detolopottot of agrilotor, transportatio, ommunoi- tatiotts,oondtletictpowo. (q) 12,500,000.00 Folc,, Coo, aod poweot plont. (o) 1,000,000,00 Amaoldots Coot. () 17,500,000.00 Yoqoi Alto Conl. (t) 5,000,000.00 Expansion ofteeltmil. (2) 1,009,570.87 Fotd Loightoo, Ino. Developmenttof hadicft idutie. (3) 800,000.00 Cia. Foodidooo do Fiotto y Atoto do Motooroy, .A. Stool m~ill aod oloctoitl oqoiptmtot. (4) 1,805,000.00 Moxitoan Golf Solphoo ood Mooicao Solphor Co. Eretiton of solphoo plant. Total $282,227,558.04 (Ropaid $40,862,729.89) NICAoRAGoUt (1) 2,000,000.00 Goveroment of Nicaragu. Coostoottion maotorls, oqoipmeoot, ood soroico. (2) 600,000,00 Goveoonmont of Nicaoogo, for Etoptoto do Luz p Foorto Elfc trica, S.A. Eqoipmoott for poweor plot. Totl $2,600,000.00  TRADE 111 $ 2,500,000.00 Goenmn of Paam for Hotele Intera,.ica. $ 1,726,000.00 Gvrnet of El Salvado. (1) $ 6,000,000.00 (2) 2,337,697.00 (3) 600,000.00 S. & S. Consrction Co. de Vneuel (C.A. de Segums~ La2 (U. S. godansric) (4) 500,000.00 S. & S. Cosruto Co. de Venezuel, C.A. (C. W. Sm.ith, U. S. goods n evcs (5) 7,108,000.00 Corp. Venezoan de Fomenm, C.A. de Electricidad de Caacs ()$1,950,000.00 (b) 5,158,000.00 Total: $10,340,697.00 GRAND TOTAL FOR TRN REPUBLICS: $397,112,633.48 TRADE 111 $ 2,300,000.00 Government of Panam for~ Hoteles Intefr,,ek.,2. $ 1,726,000.00 (1) $ 6,000,000.00 Governmet of Ve ezulafr anoObrem. (2) 2,337,697.00 (3) 600,000.00 S. &S. ConsruconC. de Veneuel(A. d eegraLa (U. S. goods. andsric) (4) 000,000.00 S. & S. Constr,,ction Co. de Venezuela1, C.A. (C. W. Sm.ith, U. S. goods antdsevc. (5) 7,108,000.00 Corp. V22n902t2 de Fomenmtt, C.A. de Electricidad de Caracas. (a) $1,930,066.00 Diesel elctc gnrtor uit. (b) 5,138,000.00 Total: $16,543,697.00 GRAND TOTAL FOR TRN REPUBLICS: $397,112,633.48 S,,,,,,: Exort-Im~pot B,,,k o W.,61,,00, Thint.oth 0.,.i,...o Rep,,etoCnes 36ashingto. Govarnme,,o Pri,,fog O~Rfr,. 19%2. TRADE 111 PANAMA~ $ 2,500,000.00 Governmet ofPanam orot Hote Iteraeros.~ Constrution teroials, equipment, adservice.. EtL SALVAORo $ 1,726,000.00 Govermt of E Slvdo. Construction mterals, equipmentt, End serice. VENEZUELA (1) $ 6,000,000.00 Governmenot of Venezuela for Banco Obrero. Consrution, mterials End equipmenot. (2) 2,337,697.00 Governmet ofVenezuel or BancoObro. Goods and services for ontrution (Hotl T,,ooao, C.A.( (3) 600,000.00 S. & S. Construction, Co. de Venezuela (C.A. de Seg,,oo.La National & St. PaulI Mercury Intdemnity Co.) (U. S. goods and serices) (4) 300,000.00 S. & S. Construction Co. de Venezuel, C.A. (C. W. Smith, W. L. Stevens, and0 Rayond A. Jtoes U. S. goods and services. (5) 7,108,000.00 Corp. Venezolana de Fomenmt, C.A. de Eiootrioidad de Caracas. (a) $1,950,000.00 Diesel electric genrtor units. (b) 5,138,000.00 Electical equipmttent (Interntional0 G.E. Co.) Total: $16,343,697.00 GRAND TOTAL FOR TEN REPUBLICS: $397,112,633.48 S,orce Exort"Iooot B.,,6 o Wg,6iofto,, ThirteenthS 0.,iosoad Repor m C,,ono. W,.1s,i. loo.,oooot POott~ R,. 1902.  The Caribbean 112 APPENDIX D VAUFAMERCA-OWNED~ FOREIG ASTSINTH AofMAY 31, 1943 The Caribbean 112 The Caribbean APPENDIX D AofMAY 31, 1943 Costa Rica Cub i Doinica pubi Gel mala,,, Hait, 117.6 30.9 529.0 71.5 87.3 14.2 37.2 287.3 4.2 110.9 13.1 372.9 1,678.0 31.4 1.1 24.1 3.2 2.1 .9 21.4 1.0 22.1 1.2 7.0 116.2 mullio, 1.0 2.3 2.3 .3 .2 .4 13.0 2.9 .2 22.0 3.0 .1 .4 (,,) 11.8 1.7 1.8 .5 1.6 (,,) .5 .4 21.7 2.7 3.9 3.6 .9 1.0 x 0.4 .3 50.1 2.3 23.8 3.7 21.3 3.2 2.4 .8 76.1 2.4 16.1 10.4 178.9 36.7 590.5 80.3 93.0 17.7 42.2 422.2 13.5 154.4 20.4 2,048.5 Colombia Costa Rica Cuba Republic Guatmal El Salvador 117.6 30.9 529.0 71.3 87.3 14.2 37.2 287.3 4.2 110.8 13.1 372.9 31.4 1.1 24.1 3.2 1.4 2.1 .9 21.4 1.0 20.1 1.7 7.8 1.0 .6 2.3 .3 .2 .4 13.0 2.9 .2 3.0 .4 11.8 1.8 1.6 .4 21.7 3.9 3.6 1.0 a.5 2.7 1.9 .3 25.8 3.7 21.5 3.2 2.4 .8 76.1 2.4 10.4 178.9 36.7 590.3 80.3 93.0 17.7 42.2 422.2 13.3 134.4 20.4 398.6 APPENDIX D VAU FAMERICAN,-OWNEDoo FOREIGN ASSETSIN TH As o MAY 31, 1943 (In, millions of dollars) Colombia 117.6 31.4 1.0 3.2 .1 23.8 178.9 Costa Rica 30.9 1.1 .6 .4 (x) 3.7 36.7 Cuba 529.0 24.2 2.3 11.8 1.7 21.3 390.3 Dominican, Repuoblic 71.5 3.2 .3 1.8 .5 3.2 80.3 Guatemala 87.3 1.4 .3 1.6 (x) 2.4 93.0 Haiti 14.2 2.1 .2 .5 .8 17.7 Honduraso 37.2 .9 .4 .4 42.2 Mexico 287.3 21.4 13.0 21.7 2.7 76.1 422.2 Nicargua 4.2 1.0 5.9 2.4 13.5 Panamao, 112.8 20.1 2.9 3.6 .9 16.1 154.4 El Saolvaor 13.1 1.7 .2 1.0 (x) (o) 23.4 Venezuela, 372.9 7.8 .8 6.4 .3 10.4 398.6 Total: 1,678.0 116.2 22.0 38.2 7.5 266.7 2,048.3 So,,,,, United State Treasury Deatet C.,,,,, of Aoo.4axOwneo~d A,,., in . og No,,.: (x) included in tt S,,ore United 8004e Treasur Department, Coo,, o/ A,,oioOwo,,d A,,.,, in F~orig,, C,,,,,li0. Wshington: Gooeoooot Printing 0fic, 1987. Noe: (x) inclded in ota Total: 1,678.0 116.2 22.0 38.1 7.3 166.7 2,048.5 0S.our United Son., Treasoo Departmo,, Co,,., of Ameican-Owned Arsesin orig Countrie. Washiogton: Goo,,oooeol Printig 004i,., 1041. Note: (x) incl,,ded in, l0d  TRADE TE113 TRADE13TRD 113 TRADE n d w O W \ W W N w 0 \ O Of \ W N I w cn rnl 'I'v o e c o G w - zt \ q N e rn .P b \ W is .p N w m N y \ a o c.. a W M W a W W GO W a N a, \ A li W m y y o F' ac m w6 v L rv C U cn O rt O b' o OO K K "x 0 .. b 9 ro O ~ Oi r.>y aro o m t7 o w -° -ni k a x n H Y ii 4 W "x 0 m >a y'.. and z o n O N k ^ , z ce w < z x n H n n 1 "x [I w .a t ro D h   Part IV Part IV Part IV CULTURE CULTURE CULTURE   11 Muna Lee: SOME EARLY CULTURAL RELATIONS IN THE CARIBBEAN THIS HAS BEEN a year rich in anniversaries having special significance for the Caribbean. Five hundred years ago, in 1451, both Isabel of Spain and Columbus, her Great Admiral, were born. Four hundred years ago, in 1551, the University of Mexico was founded, as was the sister institution of San Marcos at Lima. Three hundred years ago, in 1651, was the birth of the incomparably gifted Sor Juana Inis de la Cruz, whose poetry is still to many critics the best ever written in any language by any woman in this hemisphere. Two hundred years ago, in 1751, George Washington, still in his teens, was on the visit to Barbados which gave him a lifelong affection for and understanding of the Caribbean area. One hundred years ago, in 1851, Narciso L6pez made his second attempt to free Cuba, failed, was captured, and declared as he was executed, "My death will not change Cuba's fate!" These anniversaries, so diverse in character and significance, have one important characteristic in common. Each, directly or in- directly, started a chain reaction that has to some extent modified the way of life or the manner of thought, or both, in the region of the Caribbean and in ever widening areas, with consequences that could not have been foreseen at the time. Let Isabel and Columbus stand for Discovery and Colonization; the University of Mexico for Education, in a world so new that a European-parented genera- tion had scarcely had time to grow to maturity in it; Sor Juana, the lovely Tenth Muse, for Arts and Letters; George Washington (whose diary for the stay in Barbados shows a farmer's interest in 117 Muna Lee: SOME EARLY CULTURAL RELATIONS IN THE CARIBBEAN THIS HAS BEEN a year rich in anniversaries having special significance for the Caribbean. Five hundred years ago, in 1451, both Isabel of Spain and Columbus, her Great Admiral, were born. Four hundred years ago, in 1551, the University of Mexico was founded, as was the sister institution of San Marcos at Lima. Three hundred years ago, in 1651, was the birth of the incomparably gifted Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz, whose poetry is still to many critics the best ever written in any language by any woman in this hemisphere. Two hundred years ago, in 1751, George Washington, still in his teens, was on the visit to Barbados which gave him a lifelong affection for and understanding of the Caribbean area. One hundred years ago, in 1851, Narciso L6pez made his second attempt to free Cuba, failed, was captured, and declared as he was executed, "My death will not change Cuba's fate!" These anniversaries, so diverse in character and significance, have one important characteristic in common. Each, directly or in- directly, started a chain reaction that has to some extent modified the way of life or the manner of thought, or both, in the region of the Caribbean and in ever widening areas, with consequences that could not have been forseen at the time. Let Isabel and Columbus stand for Discovery and Colonization; the University of Mexico for Education, in a world so new that a European-parented genera- tion had scarcely had time to grow to maturity in it; Sor Juana, the lovely Tenth Muse, for Arts and Letters; George Washington (whose diary for the stay in Barbados shows a farmer's interest in 117 Muna Lee: SOME EARLY CULTURAL RELATIONS IN THE CARIBBEAN THIS HAS BEEN a year rich in anniversaries having special significance for the Caribbean. Five hundred years ago, in 1451, both Isabel of Spain and Columbus, her Great Admiral, were born. Four hundred years ago, in 1551, the University of Mexico was founded, as was the sister institution of San Marcos at Lima. Three hundred years ago, in 1651, was the birth of the incomparably gifted Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz, whose poetry is still to many critics the best ever written in any language by any woman in this hemisphere. Two hundred years ago, in 1751, George Washington, still in his teens, was on the visit to Barbados which gave him a lifelong affection for and understanding of the Caribbean area. One hundred years ago, in 1851, Narciso L6pez made his second attempt to free Cuba, failed, was captured, and declared as he was executed, "My death will not change Cuba's fate!" These anniversaries, so diverse in character and significance, have one important characteristic in common. Each, directly or in- directly, started a chain reaction that has to some extent modified the way of life or the manner of thought, or both, in the region of the Caribbean and in ever widening areas, with consequences that could not have been foreseen at the time. Let Isabel and Columbus stand for Discovery and Colonization; the University of Mexico for Education, in a world so new that a European-parented genera- tion had scarcely had time to grow to maturity in it; Sor Juana, the lovely Tenth Muse, for Arts and Letters; George Washington (whose diary for the stay in Barbados shows a farmer's interest in  118 The Caribbean planting and plantations) for Agriculture; and Narciso Ldpez- Venezuelan-born, landing at Bahia Honda a force collected in the United States and in Latin America-for the hemisphere determina- tion for Freedom: and it is not too fanciful to say that 1951's centenaries and multi-centenaries embrace most of the primary interests of the Caribbean peoples throughout the years. For the sake of completeness, we may bring the record quite down to the present, and add an instance of Industrialization, since in January of this year the Insular Government of Puerto Rico celebrated the establishment of the one-hundredth industry on that once wholly agricultural island. There are four and one-half centuries of recorded relations and interchanges in this area, which before the airplane and before the steamship had the islands for stepping stones and the trade winds for motive power. The very earliest reports are among the most fascinating: what Columbus himself wrote, and Dr. Chanca, Acosta and Oviedo and Vesputius and Peter Martyr, Castellanos and Bernal Diaz del Castillo, are of perennial interest. To recall how meaningful to us today those early relations were, let us glance back for a moment to the Europe of 1492, when Isabel and Columbus alike had passed their fortieth year, and so, in the view of those days, were aging fast. The year 1492 was beyond question a year of movement and projects in Europe. The printing press was already, functioning enthusiastically, and costly parchment was giving way to cheap Egyptian paper. Trade had increased along with exploration. There was an abundance of great art, great architecture, much discussion of Aristotle. Spain had expelled the Jews and dreamed of Christian- izing the world. In Germany the international money-lenders were becoming powerful. English merchants at Bristol organized trading expeditions, which were usually risky and very minor enterprises of a single ship. Obviously there was much to interest and excite the imagination. But ordinary living was chilly, miry, evil-smelling, badly lit, harassed, and verminous. Life was short, and many diseases pan- demic. Furniture was massive, richly carved, and uncomfortable. Beautiful tapestries attempted unavailingly to keep out draughts. Huge fireplaces smoked, and could not warm the great clammy rooms anyway. Candlelight was lovely, but wax was expensive. 118 The Caribbean 118 The Caribbean planting and plantations) for Agriculture; and Narciso Ldpez- Venezuelan-born, landing at Bahia Honda a force collected in the United States and in Latin America-for the hemisphere determina- tion for Freedom: and it is not too fanciful to say that 1951's centenaries and multi-centenaries embrace most of the primary interests of the Caribbean peoples throughout the years. For the sake of completeness, we may bring the record quite down to the present, and add an instance of Industrialization, since in January of this year the Insular Government of Puerto Rico celebrated the establishment of the one-hundredth industry on that once wholly agricultural island. There are four and one-half centuries of recorded relations and interchanges in this area, which before the airplane and before the steamship had the islands for stepping stones and the trade winds for motive power. The very earliest reports are among the most fascinating: what Columbus himself wrote, and Dr. Chanca, Acosta and Oviedo and Vesputius and Peter Martyr, Castellanos and Bernal Diaz del Castillo, are of perennial interest. To recall how meaningful to us today those early relations were, let us glance back for a moment to the Europe of 1492, when Isabel and Columbus alike had passed their fortieth year, and so, in the view of those days, were aging fast. The year 1492 was beyond question a year of movement and projects in Europe. The printing press was already functioning enthusiastically, and costly parchment was giving way to cheap Egyptian paper. Trade had increased along with exploration. There was an abundance of great art, great architecture, much discussion of Aristotle. Spain had expelled the Jews and dreamed of Christian- izing the world. In Germany the international money-lenders were becoming powerful. English merchants at Bristol organized trading expeditions, which were usually risky and very minor enterprises of a single ship. Obviously there was much to interest and excite the imagination. But ordinary living was chilly, miry, evil-smelling, badly lit, harassed, and verminous. Life was short, and many diseases pan- demic. Furniture was massive, richly carved, and uncomfortable. Beautiful tapestries attempted unavailingly to keep out draughts. Huge fireplaces smoked, and could not warm the great clammy moms anyway. Candlelight was lovely, but wax was expensive. planting and plantations) for Agriculture; and Narciso L6pez- Venezuelan-born, landing at Bahia Honda a force collected in the United States and in Latin America-for the hemisphere determina- tion for Freedom: and it is not too fanciful to say that 1951's centenaries and multi-centenaries embrace most of the primary interests of the Caribbean peoples throughout the years. For the sake of completeness, we may bring the record quite down to the present, and add an instance of Industrialization, since in January of this year the Insular Government of Puerto Rico celebrated the establishment of the one-hundredth industry on that once wholly agricultural island. There are four and one-half centuries of recorded relations and interchanges in this area, which before the airplane and before the steamship had the islands for stepping stones and the trade winds for motive power. The very earliest reports are among the most fascinating: what Columbus himself wrote, and Dr. Chanca, Acosta and Oviedo and Vesputius and Peter Martyr, Castellanos and Bernal Diaz del Castillo, are of perennial interest. To recall how meaningful to us today those early relations were, let us glance back for a moment to the Europe of 1492, when Isabel and Columbus alike had passed their fortieth year, and so, in the view of those days, were aging fast. The year 1492 was beyond question a year of movement and projects in Europe. The printing press was already functioning enthusiastically, and costly parchment was giving way to cheap Egyptian paper. Trade had increased along with exploration. There was an abundance of great art, great architecture, much discussion of Aristotle. Spain had expelled the Jews and dreamed of Christian- izing the world. In Germany the international money-lenders were becoming powerful. English merchants at Bristol organized trading expeditions, which were usually risky and very minor enterprises of a single ship. Obviously there was much to interest and excite the imagination. But ordinary living was chilly, miry, evil-smelling, badly lit, harassed, and verminous. Life was short, and many diseases pan- demic. Furniture was massive, richly carved, and uncomfortable. Beautiful tapestries attempted unavailingly to keep out draughts. Huge fireplaces smoked, and could not warm the great clammy moms anyway. Candlelight was lovely, but wax was expensive.  CULTURE 119 CULTURE 119 CULTURE That did not matter so much as regards reading because, while books were few and also expensive, they were printed in black letters that did not require strong light. The food was dull, dim, and tasteless, except when it was meat that had been hung too long. Either way-tasteless or rancid-it needed to be highly spiced to make it palatable; and hence the incessant demand for more, and more pungent, spices. It was a dreadful age in which to be ill, a dreadful age in which to be homeless and hungry, and a dreadful age in which to be at home and fed. And then the entrancing islands and the lands beyond suddenly loomed on Europe's vision, rising from the blue Caribbean at the end of the world. And there were pineapples and wild strawberries, and grapes running over the trees, and potatoes and tomatoes, and fresh soft air in a climate that needed no fireplaces, and hammocks, and birds with colors which European eyes until then had seen only on flowers, and fireflies as softly bright as their candles. The earliest chroniclers in their several languages describe the fruits and vegetables of the Indies with a zestful relish, a smacking- of-the-lips satisfaction, which publicity agents for fruit and vege- table products today try manfully to emulate. But the combined resources of skilled ad-writers and shiny colored pictures in the higher priced magazines are not enough to give that original thrill. "Quinetas are red inside," Peter Martyr wrote to the Pope. "The turma is purplish, the hobas yellowish, and the atibuniex has a violet skin and a white pulp....I am aware," he added defensively, "that in enumerating these species I shall provoke envious people, who will laugh ... at my sending such minute particulars to Your Holiness, who is charged with such weighty interests and on whose shoulders rests the burden of the whole Christian world... [but] Pliny and the other sages famous for their science...mingled together obscure reports and positive knowledge, great things and small, generalities and details; to the end that posterity might ... learn everything together." Sir Hensy Colt said of the pineapple, it is "most like unto a great white ripe strawberrye ... sweet, sharp, moyste. ... " "The cochos nut and plantans are very pleasant fruites," averred Thomas Cates in 1585. "The said cochos hath a hard shell and a greene huske over it, as hath our walnut, but it farre exceedith it in great- ness.... Next within the hard shell is a white rine, resembling ... That did not matter so much as regards reading because, while books were few and also expensive, they were printed in black letters that did not require strong light. The food was dull, dim, and tasteless, except when it was meat that had been hung too long. Either way-tasteless or rancid-it needed to be highly spiced to make it palatable; and hence the incessant demand for more, and more pungent, spices. It was a dreadful age in which to be ill, a dreadful age in which to be homeless and hungry, and a dreadful age in which to be at home and fed. And then the entrancing islands and the lands beyond suddenly loomed on Europe's vision, rising from the blue Caribbean at the end of the world. And there were pineapples and wild strawberries, and grapes running over the trees, and potatoes and tomatoes, and fresh soft air in a climate that needed no fireplaces, and hammocks, and birds with colors which European eyes until then had seen only on flowers, and fireflies as softly bright as their candles. The earliest chroniclers in their several languages describe the fruits and vegetables of the Indies with a zestful relish, a smacking- of-the-lips satisfaction, which publicity agents for fruit and vege- table products today try manfully to emulate. But the combined resources of skilled ad-writers and shiny colored pictures in the higher priced magazines are not enough to give that original thrill. "Quinetas are red inside," Peter Martyr wrote to the Pope. "The turma is purplish, the hobas yellowish, and the atibuniex has a violet skin and a white pulp.... I am aware," he added defensively, "that in enumerating these species I shall provoke envious people, who will laugh... at my sending such minute particulars to Your Holiness, who is charged with such weighty interests and on whose shoulders rests the burden of the whole Christian world... [but] Pliny and the other sages famous for their science... mingled together obscure reports and positive knowledge, great things and small, generalities and details; to the end that posterity might... learn everything together." Sir Henry Colt said of the pineapple, it is "most like unto a great white ripe strawberrye ... sweet, sharp, moyste... . ""The cochos nut and plantans are very pleasant fruites," averred Thomas Cates in 1585. "The said cochos hath a hard shell and a greene huske over it, as hath our walnut, but it farre exceedith it in great- ness.... Next within the hard shell is a white rine, resembling ... That did not matter so much as regards reading because, while books were few and also expensive, they were printed in black letters that did not require strong light. The food was dull, dim, and tasteless, except when it was meat that had been hung too long. Either way-tasteless or rancid-it needed to be highly spiced to make it palatable; and hence the incessant demand for more, and more pungent, spices. It was a dreadful age in which to be ill, a dreadful age in which to be homeless and hungry, and a dreadful age in which to be at home and fed. And then the entrancing islands and the lands beyond suddenly loomed on Europe's vision, rising from the blue Caribbean at the end of the world. And there were pineapples and wild strawberries, and grapes running over the trees, and potatoes and tomatoes, and fresh soft air in a climate that needed no fireplaces, and hammocks, and birds with colors which European eyes until then had seen only on flowers, and fireflies as softly bright as their candles. The earliest chroniclers in their several languages describe the fruits and vegetables of the Indies with a zestful relish, a smacking- of-the-lips satisfaction, which publicity agents for fruit and vege- table products today try manfully to emulate. But the combined resources of skilled ad-writers and shiny colored pictures in the higher priced magazines are not enough to give that original thrill. "Quinetas are red inside," Peter Martyr wrote to the Pope. "The turma is purplish, the hobas yellowish, and the atibuniex has a violet skin and a white pulp....I am aware," he added defensively, "that in enumerating these species I shall provoke envious people, who will laugh ... at my sending such minute particulars to Your Holiness, who is charged with such weighty interests and on whose shoulders rests the burden of the whole Christian world... [but] Pliny and the other sages famous for their science... mingled together obscure reports and positive knowledge, great things and small, generalities and details; to the end that posterity might ... learn everything together." Sir Henry Colt said of the pineapple, it is "most like unto a great white ripe strawberrye ... sweet, sharp, moyste. ... ""The cochos nut and plantans are very pleasant fruites," averred Thomas Cates in 1585. "The said cochos hath a hard shell and a greene huske over it, as hath our walnut, but it farre exceedith it in great- ness.... Next within the hard shell is a white rine, resembling...  120 The Caribbean 120 The Caribbean 120 The Caribbean the white of an egg when it is hard boyled. And within the white of the nut lyeth a water of a very cool fresh taste, and as pleasing as anything may be.... The plantan," he continued, "groweth in cods, somewhat like to beanes, but is bigger and longer, and much more thicke together on the stalke, and when it waxeth ripe, the meate which filleth the rine of the cod becometh yellow, and is exceedingly sweet and pleasant." In that description of the plantain-which was, of course, our banana-Cates was recording, though he did not know it, one of the earliest and most important of the cultural interchanges in the Caribbean. It is no news, however, to the guests at this table, that it was Columbus who had brought the banana to the New World, where it was to spread from island to island to mainland, and to create an economy of its own. So with coffee. So with sugar cane. So with orange and in lesser degre with mango. The breadfruit introduced by Captain Bligh in the eighteenth century was an attempt at a cultural relationship-or, shall we say, was a Point Four experiment-of the same pattern, but has never come to be much more than a haphazard, though useful, visitor from region to region. It was likewise from the Caribbean-specifically, in the first in- stance, from Puerto Rico and Santo Domingo-that the barnyard fowls and the livestock of Europe were to find a new home and a new development in this hemisphere. Undoubtedly the Spaniards who brought the livestock had their own agricultural and com- mercial ends in view. But according to Father Cobo, an even more important consequence of the importation of Spanish cattle was the fact that it put an end to cannibalism among the Caribs; while horse and mule and wheeled cart carried many a hundredweight that theretofore had weighed in this hemisphere upon aching human shoulders. And if-led on, perhaps, by the fact that this is a luncheon meeting-I seem to be giving a disproportionate amount of atten- tion to food as a cultural factor, let me point to the work in the Caribbean and elsewhere in Latin America of the Sociedades Econdmicas de Amigos del Pais; for example, to that of Cuba, still active and still productive. It may be said that the first official cultural relations program of Cuba with other countries was initiated on January 9, 1793 with the inaugural session at Habana of the the white of an egg when it is hard boyled. And within the white of the nut lyeth a water of a very cool fresh taste, and as pleasing as anything may be.... The plantan," he continued, "groweth in cods, somewhat like to beanes, but is bigger and longer, and much more thicke together on the stalke, and when it waxeth ripe, the meate which filleth the rine of the cod becometh yellow, and is exceedingly sweet and pleasant." In that description of the plantain-which was, of course, our banana-Cates was recording, though he did not know it, one of the earliest and most important of the cultural interchanges in the Caribbean. It is no news, however, to the guests at this table, that it was Columbus who had brought the banana to the New World, where it was to spread from island to island to mainland, and to create an economy of its own. So with coffee. So with sugar cane. So with orange and in lesser degree with mango. The breadfruit introduced by Captain Bligh in the eighteenth century was an attempt at a cultural relationship--or, shall we say, was a Point Four experiment-of the same pattern, but has never come to be much more than a haphazard, though useful, visitor from region to region. It was likewise from the Caribbean-specifically, in the first in- stance, from Puerto Rico and Santo Domingo-that the barnyard fowls and the livestock of Europe were to find a new home and a new development in this hemisphere. Undoubtedly the Spaniards who brought the livestock had their own agricultural and com- mercial ends in view. But according to Father Cobo, an even more important consequence of the importation of Spanish cattle was the fact that it put an end to cannibalism among the Caribs; while horse and mule and wheeled cart carried many a hundredweight that theretofore had weighed in this hemisphere upon aching human shoulders. And if-led on, perhaps, by the fact that this is a luncheon meeting-I seem to be giving a disproportionate amount of atten- tion to food as a cultural factor, let me point to the work in the Caribbean and elsewhere in Latin America of the Sociedades Econdmicas de Amigos del Pais; for example, to that of Cuba, still active and still productive. It may be said that the first official cultural relations program of Cuba with other countries was initiated on January 9, 1793 with the inaugural session at Habana of the the white of an egg when it is hard boyled. And within the white of the nut lyeth a water of a very cool fresh taste, and as pleasing as anything may be.. .. The plantan," he continued, "groweth in cods, somewhat like to beanes, but is bigger and longer, and much more thicke together on the stalke, and when it waxeth ripe, the meate which filleth the rine of the cod becometh yellow, and is exceedingly sweet and pleasant." In that description of the plantain-which was, of course, our banana-Cates was recording, though he did not know it, one of the earliest and most important of the cultural interchanges in the Caribbean. It is no news, however, to the guests at this table, that it was Columbus who had brought the banana to the New World, where it was to spread from island to island to mainland, and to create an economy of its own. So with coffee. So with sugar cane. So with orange and in lesser degree with mango. The breadfruit introduced by Captain Bligh in the eighteenth century was an attempt at a cultural relationship-or, shall we say, was a Point Four experiment-of the same pattern, but has never come to be much more than a haphazard, though useful, visitor frwm region to region. It was likewise from the Caribbean-specifically, in the first in- stance, from Puerto Rico and Santo Domingo-that the barnyard fowls and the livestock of Europe were to find a new home and a new development in this hemisphere. Undoubtedly the Spaniards who brought the livestock had their own agricultural and com- mercial ends in view. But according to Father Cobo, an even more important consequence of the importation of Spanish cattle was the fact that it put an end to cannibalism among the Caribs; while horse and mule and wheeled cart carried many a hundredweight that theretofore had weighed in this hemisphere upon aching human shoulders. And if-led on, perhaps, by the fact that this is a luncheon meeting-I seem to be giving a disproportionate amount of atten- tion to food as a cultural factor, let me point to the work in the Caribbean and elsewhere in Latin America of the Sociedades Econdmicas de Amigos del Pats; for example, to that of Cuba, still active and still productive. It may be said that the first official cultural relations program of Cuba with other countries was initiated on January 9, 1793 with the inaugural session at Habana of the  CULTURE 121 CULTURE 121 CULTURE Real Sociedad Econ6mica de Amigos del Pass. The Society from its foundation was dedicated to the advancement of agriculture and education on the island, the translation of publications to that end, the creation of a school of chemistry and the establishment of li- braries, and the maintenance of cultural contact with other coun- tries. While most of its work-which has been increasingly fruitful over a period of more than a century and a half-has been within the insular boundaries, the Society has also some notable inter- national services in its cultural history. When consulted officially in 1844 with respect to the carrying out of the treaty between France and England regarding slave immigration, the Society stood firm for free immigration and for some years suffered for its stand. In 1847, responding to the stimulus of the Universal Expositions of Industry initiated by France, the Sociedad Econdmica de Amigos del Pais sponsored the first Cuban public exhibition and in 1862 was responsible for the excellent Cuban exhibit at the London Exposition of that year, a service for which it was thanked offi- cially by the Cuban government. Its present activities are for the most part in the field of education. It maintains a number of schools, and has a magnificent library. As often has been said, the Caribbean Sea was the gateway, and its islands were the milestones, from Europe to the Americas, both North and South. Through the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, in the European mind these islands far outweighed in importance the lands north of the Rio Grande. France, as you know, decided that Martinique was of more value, strategically and economically, than Canada; Spain refused to consider exchanging Puerto Rico for the Louisiana Territory. Then, with the invention of the steam- boat and the advent of the industrial age, islands for a hundred years or more ceased to dominate the hemisphere's trade routes. Now, with the coming of the air age, the wheel of circumstance has made another great revolution, and islands are once more of major importance in world affairs. That is true in all seas and all oceans. It is especially true in the Caribbean, where again the Greater and the Lesser Antilles, the Leeward and the Windward Isles, are outposts, sentries, and bastions of the Americas. For the first generation or so after the Discovery, Santo Domingo remained the active center from which went out conquistadors, civil authorities, missionaries, teachers, soldiers and colonizers: Real Sociedad Econmica de Amigos del Pais. The Society from its foundation was dedicated to the advancement of agriculture and education on the island, the translation of publications to that end, the creation of a school of chemistry and the establishment of li- braries, and the maintenance of cultural contact with other coun- tries. While most of its work-which has been increasingly fruitful over a period of more than a century and a half-has been within the insular boundaries, the Society has also some notable inter- national services in its cultural history. When consulted officially in 1844 with respect to the carrying out of the treaty between France and England regarding slave immigration, the Society stood firm for free immigration and for some years suffered for its stand. In 1847, responding to the stimulus of the Universal Expositions of Industry initiated by France, the Sociedad Econdmica de Amigos del Pais sponsored the first Cuban public exhibition and in 1862 was responsible for the excellent Cuban exhibit at the London Exposition of that year, a service for which it was thanked offi- cially by the Cuban government. Its present activities are for the most part in the field of education. It maintains a number of schools, and has a magnificent library. As often has been said, the Caribbean Sea was the gateway, and its islands were the milestones, from Europe to the Americas, both North and South. Through the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, in the European mind these islands far outweighed in importance the lands north of the Rio Grande. France, as you know, decided that Martinique was of more value, strategically and economically, than Canada; Spain refused to consider exchanging Puerto Rico for the Louisiana Territory. Then, with the invention of the steam- boat and the advent of the industrial age, islands for a hundred years or more ceased to dominate the hemisphere's trade routes. Now, with the coming of the air age, the wheel of circumstance has made another great revolution, and islands are once more of major importance in world affairs. That is true in all seas and all oceans. It is especially true in the Caribbean, where again the Greater and the Lesser Antilles, the Leeward and the Windward Isles, are outposts, sentries, and bastions of the Americas. For the first generation or so after the Discovery, Santo Domingo remained the active center from which went out conquistadors, civil authorities, missionaries, teachers, soldiers and colonizers: Real Sociedad Econ6mica de Amigos del Pas. The Society from its foundation was dedicated to the advancement of agriculture and education on the island, the translation of publications to that end, the creation of a school of chemistry and the establishment of li- braries, and the maintenance of cultural contact with other coun- tries. While most of its work-which has been increasingly fruitful over a period of more than a century and a half-has been within the insular boundaries, the Society has also some notable inter- national services in its cultural history. When consulted officially in 1844 with respect to the carrying out of the treaty between France and England regarding slave immigration, the Society stood firm for free immigration and for some years suffered for its stand. In 1847, responding to the stimulus of the Universal Expositions of Industry initiated by France, the Sociedad Econdmica de Amigos del Pais sponsored the first Cuban public exhibition and in 1862 was responsible for the excellent Cuban exhibit at the London Exposition of that year, a service for which it was thanked offi- cially by the Cuban government. Its present activities are for the most part in the field of education. It maintains a number of schools, and has a magnificent library. As often has been said, the Caribbean Sea was the gateway, and its islands were the milestones, from Europe to the Americas, both North and South. Through the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, in the European mind these islands far outweighed in importance the lands north of the Rio Grande. France, as you know, decided that Martinique was of more value, strategically and economically, than Canada; Spain refused to consider exchanging Puerto Rico for the Louisiana Territory. Then, with the invention of the steam- boat and the advent of the industrial age, islands for a hundred years or more ceased to dominate the hemisphere's trade routes. Now, with the coming of the air age, the wheel of circumstance has made another great revolution, and islands are once more of major importance in world affairs. That is true in all seas and all oceans. It is especially true in the Caribbean, where again the Greater and the Lesser Antilles, the Leeward and the Windward Isles, are outposts, sentries, and bastions of the Americas. For the first generation or so after the Discovery, Santo Domingo remained the active center from which went out conquistadors, civil authorities, missionaries, teachers, soldiers and colonizers:  122 The Caribbean 122 The Caribbean 122 The Caribbean Ponce de Le6n and Juan de la Cosa, Pizarro, Cortes, De Soto, Las Casas, Coronado. Again, in the Period of Independence, the Carib- bean was to be a dominating center. Haiti would become the second republic of the hemisphere, with Venezuela and Mexico to follow. And after discovery and colonization and independence, it was in the Caribbean area that an international consultation of states, planned and expounded by Bolivar, upheld by Henry Clay, was to take form in the Conference at Panama, forerunner of all Pan American Conferences, precursor of the League of Nations, of the United Nations. It is more than a century and a quarter since Bolivar called that first of the many inter-American meetings that have advocated and helped bring about the solidarity of the Ameri- can states in their collective will for freedom, through arbitration of differences, mutual aid against aggression, and equality at the common council table. Jose Cecilio del Valle of Honduras, drawing up Central America's declaration of political independence in 1821, declared that "the proper study of the man of America is America." Do not the historic past and the predictable future authorize us to add, "and especially the Caribbean?" Ponce de Leon and Juan de la Cosa, Pizarro, Cort6s, De Soto, Las Casas, Coronado. Again, in the Period of Independence, the Carib- bean was to be a dominating center. Haiti would become the second republic of the hemisphere, with Venezuela and Mexico to follow. And after discovery and colonization and independence, it was in the Caribbean area that an international consultation of states, planned and expounded by Bolivar, upheld by Henry Clay, was to take form in the Conference at Panama, forerunner of all Pan American Conferences, precursor of the League of Nations, of the United Nations. It is more than a century and a quarter since Bolivar called that first of the many inter-American meetings that have advocated and helped bring about the solidarity of the Ameri- can states in their collective will for freedom, through arbitration of differences, mutual aid against aggression, and equality at the common council table. Jose Cecilio del Valle of Honduras, drawing up Central America's declaration of political independence in 1821, declared that "the proper study of the man of America is America." Do not the historic past and the predictable future authorize us to add, "and especially the Caribbean?" Ponce de Le6n and Juan de la Cosa, Pizaro, Cortes, De Soto, Las Casas, Coronado. Again, in the Period of Independence, the Carib- bean was to be a dominating center. Haiti would become the second republic of the hemisphere, with Venezuela and Mexico to follow. And after discovery and colonization and independence, it was in the Caribbean area that an international consultation of states, planned and expounded by Bolivar, upheld by Henry Clay, was to take form in the Conference at Panama, forerunner of all Pan American Conferences, precursor of the League of Nations, of the United Nations. It is more than a century and a quarter since Bolivar called that first of the many inter-American meetings that have advocated and helped bring about the solidarity of the Ameri- can states in their collective will for freedom, through arbitration of differences, mutual aid against aggression, and equality at the common council table. Jose Cecilio del Valle of Honduras, drawing up Central America's declaration of political independence in 1821, declared that "the proper study of the man of America is America." Do not the historic past and the predictable future authorize us to add, "and especially the Caribbean?"  12 Harriet de Onfs: THE SHORT STORY IN THE CARIBBEAN TODAY THE SHORT STORY is one of the literary forms most culti- vated in Spanish America today. As we cannot consider any phase of the literature of the area under study at this conference without bearing in mind its relationship to the larger framework of which it forms a part, it has seemed to me that an attempt to analyze certain of the dominant tendencies displayed in the work of representative short-story writers of the Caribbean might be revealing. It will, I hope, assist in an understanding of the Caribbean world, and also show the intrinsic value of this production and its importance in the Spanish-American creative field. It is unnecessary to point out to a gathering of this sort that, although there is an undeniable justification for the use of the term "Caribbean," it is a loose denomination, and slightly in the nature of a Procrustean bed. It brings together countries that are geo- graphically related, but that differ greatly from one another and within themselves. Behind the sea they share lies the interior, the backland of these countries, which are so much larger than they look on the map, each with its own national characteristics, the product in many cases of a totally different cultural origin. And these in- land regions have remained strangely aloof from the influence of the teeming, restless coast. It might not be too farfetched to sug- gest that the sea has been the moute of invasion, the land the path of evasion. It is as though there were two centers of gravity in these areas: the coast, which has been the polarization point of 123 12 Harriet de Onfs: THE SHORT STORY IN THE CARIBBEAN TODAY THE SHORT STORY is one of the literary forms most culti- vated in Spanish Ameica today. As we cannot consider any phase of the literature of the area under study at this conference without bearing in mind its relationship to the larger framework of which it forms a part, it has seemed to me that an attempt to analyze certain of the dominant tendencies displayed in the work of representative short-story writers of the Caribbean might be revealing. It will, I hope, assist in an understanding of the Caribbean world, and also show the intrinsic value of this production and its importance in the Spanish-American creative field. It is unnecessary to point out to a gathering of this sort that, although there is an undeniable justification for the use of the term "Caribbean," it is a loose denomination, and slightly in the nature of a Procrustean bed. It brings together countries that are geo- graphically related, but that differ greatly from one another and within themselves. Behind the sea they share lies the interior, the backland of these countries, which are so much larger than they look on the map, each with its own national characteristics, the product in many cases of a totally different cultural origin. And these in- land regions have remained strangely aloof from the influence of the teeming, restless coast. It might not be too farfetched to sug- gest that the sea has been the route of invasion, the land the path of evasion. It is as though them were two centers of gravity in these areas: the coast, which has been the polarization point of 123 Harriet de Ons: THE SHORT STORY IN THE CARIBBEAN TODAY THE SHORT STORY is one of the literary forms most culti- vated in Spanish America today. As we cannot consider any phase of the literature of the area under study at this conference without bearing in mind its relationship to the larger framework of which it forms a part, it has seemed to me that an attempt to analyze certain of the dominant tendencies displayed in the work of representative short-story writers of the Caribbean might be revealing. It will, I hope, assist in an understanding of the Caribbean world, and also show the intrinsic value of this production and its importance in the Spanish-American creative field. It is unnecessary to point out to a gathering of this sort that, although there is an undeniable justification for the use of the term "Caribbean," it is a loose denomination, and slightly in the nature of a Procrustean bed. It brings together countries that are geo- graphically related, but that differ greatly from one another and within themselves. Behind the sea they share lies the interior, the backland of these countries, which are so much larger than they look on the map, each with its own national characteristics, the product in many cases of a totally different cultural origin. And these in- land regions have remained strangely aloof from the influence of the teeming, restless coast. It might not be too farfetched to sug- gest that the sea has been the route of invasion, the land the path of evasion. It is as though there were two centers of gravity in these areas: the coast, which has been the polarization point of  124 The Caribbean 124 The Caribbean 124 The Caribbean movement, change, foreign influence of many sorts; and the inland, nucleus of the permanent, the timeless, the autochthonous. The ethnic composition of the area, so determining a factor in its culture, is disparate, too. A large part of it-Yucatan, Guate- mala-gravitates toward its Mayan past; even the present is, in a sense, a continuation of the past. In certain regions the African element has been of decisive importance; in others a racial blend of Negro, Indian, and Spaniard, in varying proportions, has become fixed. The Spanish-speaking countries, to which I have limited myself, share, in addition to the sea that links them, the fact that they all belong within the general Spanish-American cultural pattern, and, specifically, they constitute Middle America. The basic character- istics of the general culture are present in them, but with a typical, local accent. Rather than weary you with a list of names, which would be unavoidable if I were to try to do justice to the contemporary short- story writers of the Caribbean-so many and so good-I have pe- ferred to select four who seem to me to exemplify the two main tendencies, which at many points fuse into one, I have noted in this literature of the region. In them are to be found, in great intensity and perfection, the themes, the sensibility, the techniques shared by the majority of the others. By and large, it is a proletarian literature that deals with both the rural and urban proletariat, and a litera- ture of implicit protest. But as Jorge Manach of Cuba pointed out at your last conference, Spanish-American literature " ... exhibits in a more marked way that 'aesthetic accent' which has been recog- nized as the distinguishing characteristic of the Latin American mind."t And so in the short story of today the aesthetic sense triumphs over the social attitude, giving this writing a permanence, and what, for lack of a better term, I must describe as a kind of innocence, an affirmation of the simple virtues and an underlying, if tacit, belief in the perfectibility of life on the basis of the botherhood of man. It is a kind of a posteriori justification for the location of Utopia in America. 1 "Literary Homogeneity in the Caribbean," in The Caribbean at Mid- Century (Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 1951), p. 215. movement, change, foreign influence of many sorts; and the inland, nucleus of the permanent, the timeless, the autochthonous. The ethnic composition of the area, so determining a factor in its culture, is disparate, too. A large part of it-Yucatan, Guate- mala-gravitates toward its Mayan past; even the present is, in a sense, a continuation of the past. In certain regions the African element has been of decisive importance; in others a racial blend of Negro, Indian, and Spaniard, in varying proportions, has become fixed. The Spanish-speaking countries, to which I have limited myself, share, in addition to the sea that links them, the fact that they all belong within the general Spanish-American cultural pattern, and, specifically, they constitute Middle America. The basic character- istics of the general culture are present in them, but with a typical, local accent. Rather than weary you with a list of names, which would he unavoidable if I were to try to do justice to the contemporary short- story writers of the Caribbean-so many and so good-I have pre- ferred to select four who seem to me to exemplify the two main tendencies, which at many points fuse into one, I have noted in this literature of the region. In them ae to be found, in great intensity and perfection, the themes, the sensibility, the techniques shared by the majority of the others. By and large, it is a proletarian literature that deals with both the rural and urban proletariat, and a litera- ture of implicit protest. But as Jorge Manach of Cuba pointed out at your last conference, Spanish-American literature " .. . exhibits in a more marked way that 'aesthetic accent' which has been recog- nized as the distinguishing characteristic of the Latin American mind."t And so in the short story of today the aesthetic sense triumphs over the social attitude, giving this writing a permanence, and what, for lack of a better term, I must describe as a kind of innocence, an affirmation of the simple virtues and an underlying, if tacit, belief in the perfectibility of life on the basis of the brotherhood of man. It is a kind of a posteriori justification for the location of Utopia in America. 1 "Literary Homogeneity in the Caribbean," in The Caribbean at Mid- Century (Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 1951), p. 215. movement, change, foreign influence of many sorts; and the inland, nucleus of the permanent, the timeless, the autochthonous. The ethnic composition of the area, so determining a factor in its culture, is disparate, too. A large part of it-Yucatan, Guate- mala-gravitates toward its Mayan past; even the present is, in a sense, a continuation of the past. In certain regions the African element has been of decisive importance; in others a racial blend of Negro, Indian, and Spaniard, in varying proportions, has become fixed. The Spanish-speaking countries, to which I have limited myself, share, in addition to the sea that links them, the fact that they all belong within the general Spanish-American cultural pattern, and, specifically, they constitute Middle America. The basic character- istics of the general culture are present in them, but with a typical, local accent. Rather than weary you with a list of names, which would be unavoidable if I were to try to do justice to the contemporary short- story writers of the Caribbean-so many and so good-I have pre- ferred to select four who seem to me to exemplify the two main tendencies, which at many points fuse into one, I have noted in this literature of the region. In them are to be found, in geat intensity and perfection, the themes, the sensibility, the techniques shared by the majority of the others. By and large, it is a proletarian literature that deals with both the rural and urban proletariat, and a litera- ture of implicit protest. But as Jorge Mafiach of Cuba pointed out at your last conference, Spanish-American literature " ... exhibits in a more marked way that 'aesthetic accent' which has been recog- nized as the distinguishing characteristic of the Latin American mind."t And so in the short story of today the aesthetic sense triumphs over the social attitude, giving this writing a permanence, and what, for lack of a better term, I must describe as a kind of innocence, an affirmation of the simple virtues and an underlying, if tacit, belief in the perfectibility of life on the basis of the brotherhood of man. It is a kind of a posteriori justification for the location of Utopia in America. 1 "Literary Homogeneity in the Caribbean," in The Caribbean at Mid- Century (Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 1951), p. 215.  CULTURE 125 CULTURE 125 CULTURE The first author I have chosen to deal with brings me dangerously close to a paradox. He is not, in the strict sense of the word, of the Caribbean. Salvador Salazar Arrue-Salarru6, as he signs himself, is from the republic of El Salvador, which is cut off from the inter- American sea by Nicaragua. But it is comprehended within the Middle American culture, and as Salarru6 represents to a high degree the tendencies dominant in so many of the inland writers of the Caribbean area, he has seemed to me of singular importance in himself, and as a link between the literatures of the various Caribbean lands, and between them and that of the rest of Spanish America. Salarrue, who was born in San Salvador in 1899, is another of the many Hispanic writers whose fame rests on a single book, Cuentos de barro, published in 1943. He received part of his education in this country, and has held diplomatic posts both in the United States and abroad. But it is as though his absence from his native land and his contact with foreign cultures had only sharpened his awareness of and love for his own. His work is impregnated with infinite tenderness toward the people, the land, the poor monotonous life with its rudimentary, but moving incidents. It is colored with irony, but an irony close to tears. The language he employs is that of his people of Salvador, with its archaisms, its incorrections and deformations, its Indian infiltration; not as a student of philological curiosities might use it, or seeking effects of local color, but as the only adequate medium of expression for the material he writes of. There is little or no plot to his stories; they are episodes in the day-by-day living of the peasants of Salvador-the capsized fishing boat, the daughter who is dishonored, the haunted house where a restless spirit must be exorcised, the dream of finding buried treasure -and the traditional virtues: family loyalty, fidelity in friendship, charity, and compassion. There is no sentimentalizing in Salarru6's writing, but it is informed with a poetry, a rustic fragrance, a spirit of resignation under the juggernaut of circumstance that makes it incredibly moving. Perhaps the most powerful protagonist in his work is nature, so untamed, so treacherous, so unpredictable- The first author I have chosen to deal with brings me dangerously close to a paradox. He is not, in the strict sense of the word, of the Caribbean. Salvador Salazar Arru6-Salarrue, as he signs himself, is from the republic of El Salvador, which is cut off from the inter- American sea by Nicaragua. But it is comprehended within the Middle American culture, and as Salarru6 represents to a high degree the tendencies dominant in so many of the inland writers of the Caribbean area, he has seemed to me of singular importance in himself, and as a link between the literatures of the various Caribbean lands, and between them and that of the rest of Spanish America. Salarru6, who was born in San Salvador in 1899, is another of the many Hispanic writers whose fame rests on a single book, Cuentos de barro, published in 1943. He received part of his education in this country, and has held diplomatic posts both in the United States and abroad. But it is as though his absence from his native land and his contact with foreign cultures had only sharpened his awareness of and love for his own. His work is impregnated with infinite tenderness toward the people, the land, the poor monotonous life with its rudimentary, but moving incidents. It is colored with irony, but an irony close to tears. The language he employs is that of his people of Salvador, with its archaisms, its incorrections and deformations, its Indian infiltration; not as a student of philological curiosities might use it, or seeking effects of local color, but as the only adequate medium of expression for the material he writes of. There is little or no plot to his stories; they are episodes in the day-by-day living of the peasants of Salvador-the capsized fishing boat, the daughter who is dishonored, the haunted house where a restless spirit must be exorcised, the dream of finding buried treasure -and the traditional virtues: family loyalty, fidelity in friendship, charity, and compassion. There is no sentimentalizing in Salarrue's writing, but it is informed with a poetry, a rustic fragrance, a spirit of resignation under the juggernaut of circumstance that makes it incredibly moving. Perhaps the most powerful protagonist in his work is nature, so untamed, so treacherous, so unpredictable- The first author I have chosen to deal with brings me dangerously close to a paradox. He is not, in the strict sense of the word, of the Caribbean. Salvador Salazar Arrue-Salarrue, as he signs himself, is from the republic of El Salvador, which is cut off from the inter- American sea by Nicaragua. But it is comprehended within the Middle American culture, and as Salarru6 represents to a high degree the tendencies dominant in so many of the inland writers of the Caribbean area, he has seemed to me of singular importance in himself, and as a link between the literatures of the various Caribbean lands, and between them and that of the rest of Spanish America. Salarru6, who was born in San Salvador in 1899, is another of the many Hispanic writers whose fame rests on a single book, Cuentos de barro, published in 1943. He received part of his education in this country, and has held diplomatic posts both in the United States and abroad. Bu it is as though his absence from his native land and his contact with foreign cultures had only sharpened his awareness of and love for his own. His work is impregnated with infinite tenderness toward the people, the land, the poor monotonous life with its rudimentary, but moving incidents. It is colored with irony, but an irony close to tears. The language he employs is that of his people of Salvador, with its archaisms, its incorrections and deformations, its Indian infiltration; not as a student of philological curiosities might use it, or seeking effects of local color, but as the only adequate medium of expression for the material he writes of. There is little or no plot to his stories; they are episodes in the day-by-day living of the peasants of Salvador-the capsized fishing boat, the daughter who is dishonored, the haunted house where a restless spirit must be exorcised, the dream of finding buried treasure -and the traditional virtues: family loyalty, fidelity in friendship, charity, and compassion. There is no sentimentalizing in Salarru6's writing, but it is informed with a poetry, a rustic fragrance, a spirit of resignation under the juggernaut of circumstance that makes it incredibly moving. Perhaps the most powerful protagonist in his work is nature, so untamed, so treacherous, so unpredictable-  126 The Caribbean the sudden storm that can sweep away home and crops, the river that can be the source of a man's livelihood as of his death. Life is a game in which the elemental forces hold the trump cards. In addition to being a writer, Salarrue is also a painter, and this reveals itself in his literature. He sees his people as they are-ugly, dirty, ignorant, superstitious-making no attempt to beautify them superficially, but, like Velazquez, discovering their essential human quality by the depth of his penetration. With Fray Luis de Leon he knows "that this is the true beauty, that everything should act according to its nature." The perfection of his technique is very great, and this may ex- plain the paucity of his production. His seeming artlessness is the result of great art. He never employs a superfluous word, there are no explanations; the characters live and move and have their being in an atmosphere where reality has been transmuted into poetry by the author's lyric power. With disarming modesty he writes in the foreword to his book: "My poor little stories of clay.... They are as nothing compared with the thousands of beautiful stories that flower day after day; as they have not been turned they have come out crooked, rough, flawed.... But it is clay of the soul that went into them, and where this has been removed a little hole re- mains that the winters of the heart have filled with melan- choly.... " Enveloping all is an atmosphere of magic evoked by the persistence of the elements of folklore that flow like a subter- ranean current through so much of the work of Spanish-American writers. Lionel Trilling has given a definition of this attitude which I think very good: a sense of piety toward the past. And the strength of our response is probably due to the fact that it reaches us in "our secret and primitive minds." When Coleridge uses as an epigraph to The Rime of the Ancient Mariner the lines "a judicious belief in the existence of demons has the effect of keeping the mind from becoming narrow and lapsed entirely into mean thoughts," the point he is making, says Professor Trilling, is "that the world is a complex and unexpected and terrible place which is not always to be understood by the mind as we use it in our everyday tasks."0 2 Lionel Trilling, "The Meaning of a Literary Idea" in The Liberal Imagination, (New York: Viking, 1950). 126 The Caribbean 126 The Caribbean the sudden storm that can sweep away home and crops, the river that can be the source of a man's livelihood as of his death. Life is a game in which the elemental forces hold the trump cards. In addition to being a writer, Salarrue is also a painter, and this reveals itself in his literature. He sees his people as they are-ugly, dirty, ignorant, superstitious-making no attempt to beautify them superficially, but, like Veldzquez, discovering their essential human quality by the depth of his penetration. With Fray Luis de Ledn he knows "that this is the true beauty, that everything should act according to its nature." The perfection of his technique is very great, and this may ex- plain the paucity of his production. His seeming artlessness is the result of great art. He never employs a superfluous word, there are no explanations; the characters live and move and have their being in an atmosphere where reality has been transmuted into poetry by the author's lyric power. With disarming modesty he writes in the foreword to his book: "My poor little stories of clay.... They are as nothing compared with the thousands of beautiful stories that flower day after day; as they have not been turned they have come out crooked, rough, flawed.... But it is clay of the soul that went into them, and where this has been removed a little hole re- mains that the winters of the heart have filled with melan- choly.... " Enveloping all is an atmosphere of magic evoked by the persistence of the elements of folklore that flow like a subter- ranean current through so much of the work of Spanish-American writers. Lionel Trilling has given a definition of this attitude which I think very good: a sense of piety toward the past. And the strength of our response is probably due to the fact that it reaches us in "our secret and primitive minds." When Coleridge uses as an epigraph to The Rime of the Ancient Mariner the lines "a judicious belief in the existence of demons has the effect of keeping the mind from becoming narrow and lapsed entirely into mean thoughts," the point he is making, says Professor Trilling, is "that the world is a complex and unexpected and terrible place which is not always to be understood by the mind as we use it in our everyday tasks."2 2 Lionel Trilling, "The Meaning of a Literary Idea" in The Liberal Imagination, (New York: Viking, 1950). the sudden storm that can sweep away home and crops, the river that can be the source of a man's livelihood as of his death. Life is a game in which the elemental forces hold the trump cards. In addition to being a writer, Salarru6 is also a painter, and this reveals itself in his literature. He sees his people as they are-ugly, dirty, ignorant, superstitious-making no attempt to beautify them superficially, but, like Veliazquez, discovering their essential human quality by the depth of his penetration. With Fray Luis de Leon he knows "that this is the true beauty, that everything should act according to its nature." The perfection of his technique is very great, and this may ex- plain the paucity of his production. His seeming artlessness is the result of great art. He never employs a superfluous word, there are no explanations; the characters live and move and have their being in an atmosphere where reality has been transmuted into poetry by the author's lyric power. With disarming modesty he writes in the foreword to his book: "My poor little stories of clay.... They are as nothing compared with the thousands of beautiful stories that flower day after day; as they have not been turned they have come out crooked, rough, flawed.... But it is clay of the soul that went into them, and where this has been removed a little hole re- mains that the winters of the heart have filled with melan- choly.... " Enveloping all is an atmosphere of magic evoked by the persistence of the elements of folklore that flow like a subter- ranean current through so much of the work of Spanish-American writers. Lionel Trilling has given a definition of this attitude which I think very good: a sense of piety toward the past. And the strength of our response is probably due to the fact that it reaches us in "our secret and primitive minds." When Coleridge uses as an epigraph to The Rime of the Ancient Mariner the lines "a judicious belief in the existence of demons has the effect of keeping the mind from becoming narrow and lapsed entirely into mean thoughts," the point he is making, says Professor Trilling, is "that the world is a complex and unexpected and terrible place which is not always to be understood by the mind as we use it in our everyday tasks."s 2 Lionel Trilling, "The Meaning of a Literary Idea" in The Liberal Imagination, (New York: Viking, 1950).  CULTURE 127 CULTURE 127 CULTURE II II II Thee can be no question as to the rightful place in the Caribbean of the other exponent of this same tendency followed by Salarru6. Juan Bosch of the Dominican Republic has found his inspiration in the countryside of his native island, and with equally felicitous re- sults. Less lyric than Salarrue, he brings very great power, insight, and a somewhat more impersonal, though equally compassionate, irony to the treatment of his material. He deals not only with the country folk of Santo Domingo, but also with the poor Haitians who cross the border in search of work, and whose life is tragedy amidst the hostile, alien corn. Bosch, born in 1909, is an exile from his island. He is an active member of the Partido Revolucionario Dominicano, working for the overthrow of President Trujillo. But despite the fact that the sea plays so active a part in his life, with the comings and goings connected with his political activities, it is not a motif in his writing. His stories deal with the life of the interior, perhaps in a nostalgic effort to recapture that from which he has been cut off. His production in the field of the short story is limited to two small books, Dos pesos de agua (1941) and Ocho Cuentos (1947), and several of his stories have received distinguished literary awards. He is a master in the use of a sober, restrained, yet vivid language, and he achieves strikingly dramatic effects, often by understatement. He has a masculine forthrightness that recalls Ricardo Giiiraldes. Like him, he can take a threadbare theme, as though to show how unimportant plot is, and give it new, pulsating life. Bosch has a social conscience closer to the surface than Salarrue, and occasionally in the course of his writing it jogs his elbow. When this happens he throws in a fiery phrase to remind the reader and himself that he is an angry man. But this happens only rarely, and when it does it really defeats its own ends, for the effect is almost humorous. It recalls the formula: "We now pause briefly for a word from our sponsor." In Bosch, too, the elements of folklore and tradition are very strong, giving his work a deep sense of continuity. As Jose Luis Martinez, the able Mexican critic, has said: " ... our writers be- came more and more aware of the zones in which their authentic originality resided. The notes that truly defined them were forms There can be no question as to the rightful place in the Caribbean of the other exponent of this same tendency followed by Salarru6. Juan Bosch of the Dominican Republic has found his inspiration in the countryside of his native island, and with equally felicitous re- sults. Less lyric than Salarrue, he brings very great power, insight, and a somewhat more impersonal, though equally compassionate, irony to the treatment of his material. He deals not only with the country folk of Santo Domingo, but also with the poor Haitians who cross the border in search of work, and whose life is tragedy amidst the hostile, alien cor. Bosch, born in 1909, is an exile from his island. He is an active member of the Partido Revolucionario Dominicano, working for the overthrow of President Trujillo. But despite the fact that the sea plays so active a part in his life, with the comings and goings connected with his political activities, it is not a motif in his writing. His stories deal with the life of the interior, perhaps in a nostalgic effort to recapture that from which he has been cut off. His production in the field of the short story is limited to two small books, Dos pesos de agua (1941) and Ocho Cuentos (1947), and several of his stories have received distinguished literary awards. He is a master in the use of a sober, restrained, yet vivid language, and he achieves strikingly dramatic effects, often by understatement. He has a masculine forthrightness that recalls Ricardo Guiraldes. Like him, he can take a threadbare theme, as though to show how unimportant plot is, and give it new, pulsating life. Bosch has a social conscience closer to the surface than Salarru6, and occasionally in the course of his writing it jogs his elbow. When this happens he throws in a fiery phrase to remind the reader and himself that he is an angry man. But this happens only rarely, and when it does it really defeats its own ends, for the effect is almost humorous. It recalls the formula: "We now pause briefly for a word from our sponsor." In Bosch, too, the elements of folklore and tradition are very strong, giving his work a deep sense of continuity. As Jose Luis Martinez, the able Mexican critic, has said: "... our writers be- came more and more aware of the zones in which their authentic originality resided. The notes that truly defined them were forms There can be no question as to the rightful place in the Caribbean of the other exponent of this same tendency followed by Salarrue. Juan Bosch of the Dominican Republic has found his inspiration in the countryside of his native island, and with equally felicitous re- sults. Less lyric than Salareu6, he brings very great power, insight, and a somewhat more impersonal, though equally compassionate, irony to the treatment of his material. He deals not only with the country folk of Santo Domingo, but also with the poor Haitians who cross the border in search of work, and whose life is tragedy amidst the hostile, alien corn. Bosch, born in 1909, is an exile from his island. He is an active member of the Partido Revolucionario Dominicano, working for the overthrow of President Trujillo. But despite the fact that the sea plays so active a part in his life, with the comings and goings connected with his political activities, it is not a motif in his writing. His stories deal with the life of the interior, perhaps in a nostalgic effort to recapture that from which he has been cut off. His production in the field of the short story is limited to two small books, Dos pesos de agua (1941) and Ocho Cuentos (1947), and several of his stories have received distinguished literary awards. He is a master in the use of a sober, restrained, yet vivid language, and he achieves strikingly dramatic effects, often by understatement. He has a masculine forthrightness that recalls Ricardo Gairaldes. Like him, he can take a threadbare theme, as though to show how unimportant plot is, and give it new, pulsating life. Bosch has a social conscience closer to the surface than Salarru6, and occasionally in the course of his writing it jogs his elbow. When this happens he throws in a fiery phrase to remind the reader and himself that he is an angry man. But this happens only rarely, and when it does it really defeats its own ends, for the effect is almost humorous. It recalls the formula: "We now pause briefly for a word from our sponsor." In Bosch, too, the elements of folklore and tradition are very strong, giving his work a deep se of continuity. As Jose Luis Martinez, the able Mexican critic, has said: "... our writers be- came more and more aware of the zones in which their authentic originality resided. The notes that truly defined them were forms  128 The Caribbean and shades of emotion, spiritual rhythms, persistent concepts and beliefs. And the letters of Spanish America continue to seek these out . .. ever more certain of their route."3 It is in this preservation of its tradition as a perennial and vital source of inspiration that Spanish-American literature shows its true greatness, in its capacity for assimilating the new without los- ing touch with the old. And nowhere in all the continent did the varied strains of folklore, Spanish, African, Indian, leave a heavier precipitate than in the Caribbean area. It was here they first met and fused, setting their imprint on all they touched. And, although this is not the place to enter upon a discussion of the matter, it would not seem too far afield to suggest that it was from here that they radiated to the rest of the continent, carried by the earliest of the discoverers and conquerors, who possessed among their other attributes the gift of ubiquity. Other- wise it is difficult to account for the presence of the same or similar legends, beliefs and vital attitudes from one end of the continent to the other. III The majority of the short-story writers of the Caribbean fall definitely within the tendency exemplified in Salarrue and Bosch. The native, the Creole, climate, in which the form was born, has been growing steadily in intensity. Nearly all of them would seem to have taken as their artistic criterion the advice Sarmiento gave the writers of Chile a century ago when he was carrying on his famous polemic with Andres Bello: "... cast your observing eye upon your own land, upon the people, the customs, the institutions, the problems that exist there, and then write of them lovingly, with your heart, what you feel, what occurs to you, and this will be good in content, even though the form may be faulty; it will be charged with emotion, even though at times it may be inaccurate ... good or bad, it will be yours." There is the vigorous group of young Panamanian writers, speci- 3 Jos6 Luis Martinez, Las corrientes literarias en la Amrica hispana (Mexico, 1949). 128 The Caribbean 128 The Caribbean and shades of emotion, spiritual rhythms, persistent concepts and beliefs. And the letters of Spanish America continue to seek these out . . . ever more certain of their route."t It is in this preservation of its tradition as a perennial and vital source of inspiration that Spanish-American literature shows its true greatness, in its capacity for assimilating the new without los- ing touch with the old. And nowhere in all the continent did the varied strains of folklore, Spanish, African, Indian, leave a heavier precipitate than in the Caribbean area. It was here they first met and fused, setting their imprint on all they touched. And, although this is not the place to enter upon a discussion of the matter, it would not seem too far afield to suggest that it was from here that they radiated to the rest of the continent, carried by the earliest of the discoverers and conquerors, who possessed among their other attributes the gift of ubiquity. Other- wise it is difficult to account for the presence of the same or similar legends, beliefs and vital attitudes from one end of the continent to the other. III The majority of the short-story writers of the Caribbean fall definitely within the tendency exemplified in Salarru6 and Bosch. The native, the Creole, climate, in which the form was born, has been growing steadily in intensity. Nearly all of them would seem to have taken as their artistic criterion the advice Sarmiento gave the writers of Chile a century ago when he was carrying on his famous polemic with Andres Bello: "... cast your observing eye upon your own land, upon the people, the customs, the institutions, the problems that exist there, and then write of them lovingly, with your heart, what you feel, what occurs to you, and this will be good in content, even though the form may be faulty; it will be charged with emotion, even though at times it may be inaccurate ... good or bad, it will be yours." There is the vigorous group of young Panamanian writers, speci- 3 Jose Luis Martinez, Las corrientes literarias en la Amsrica hispana (Mexico, 1949). and shades of emotion, spiritual rhythms, persistent concepts and beliefs. And the letters of Spanish America continue to seek these out . . . ever more certain of their route."t It is in this preservation of its tradition as a perennial and vital source of inspiration that Spanish-American literature shows its true greatness, in its capacity for assimilating the new without los- ing touch with the old. And nowhere in all the continent did the varied strains of folklore, Spanish, African, Indian, leave a heavier precipitate than in the Caribbean area. It was here they first met and fused, setting their imprint on all they touched. And, although this is not the place to enter upon a discussion of the matter, it would not seem too far afield to suggest that it was from here that they radiated to the rest of the continent, carried by the earliest of the discoverers and conquermrs, who possessed among their other attributes the gift of ubiquity. Other- wise it is difficult to account for the presence of the same or similar legends, beliefs and vital attitudes from one end of the continent to the other. III The majority of the short-story writers of the Caribbean fall definitely within the tendency exemplified in Salarru6 and Bosch. The native, the Creole, climate, in which the form was born, has been growing steadily in intensity. Nearly all of them would seem to have taken as their artistic criterion the advice Sarmiento gave the writers of Chile a century ago when he was carrying on his famous polemic with Andres Bello: "... cast your observing eye upon your own land, upon the people, the customs, the institutions, the problems that exist there, and then write of them lovingly, with your heart, what you feel, what occurs to you, and this will be good in content, even though the form may be faulty; it will be charged with emotion, even though at times it may be inaccurate ... good or bad, it will be yours." There is the vigorous group of young Panamanian writers, speci- 3 Jose Luis Martinez, Las corrientes literarias en la Amrica hispana (Mexico, 1949).  CULTURE 129 CULTURE 129 CULTURE mens of whose work have been brought together in an excellent anthology published last year.4 In Venezuela, which is outstanding in the field of narrative literature, the short story has been culti- vated with abundance and great skill. Arturo Uslar-Pietri and Julian Padron, themselves among the most gifted in the field, have brought together in a two-volume anthology the work of recent Venezuelan short-story writers.5 One can hardly be grateful enough for these collections, for much of the work contained in them was published in magazines or newspapers, has not been collected in book form, and would otherwise be unavailable. Al- though there has been little direct influence of the Caribbean on the short story in Colombia, it has infiltrated into the interior through Cartagena and Barranquilla, and has left its traces on the literature of the region of Antioquia, as fecund in this activity as in so many others. One point I should like to stress is that in the work of the writers we have been discussing the characters are almost never presented in racial terms. They may deal with whites, mestizos, Indians, Negroes, but basically as members of the community of which they form a part of life on an equal human footing. The basis of the distinctions and conflicts that exist are economic and social rather than racial. Uslar-Pietri's analysis of the influences that have brought about the flowering of the short story in Vene- zuela could with equal propriety be applied to the entire Caribbean as well as to the rest of America: "In its most recent forms the Venezuelan short story, which began as a vehicle of artistic prose, which at the crest of the wave of Creolism became a steady delv- ing into and investigation of the popular, is becoming increasingly infused with the breath of poetry, with an ineffable and moving power that stems from the living source, without falsifying a single detail of reality or of subject matter or of the balance of the narration. The work of our most recent short-story writers falls into this category ... those who are seeking out the Venezuelan soul on Venezuelan soil."t 4 Rodrigo Mir6, El Cuento en Panamd (1950). 5 Arturo Uslar-Pietri y Julian Padron, Antologla del cuento modern venezolano, Biblioteca Venezolana de Cultura (1940). 6 Ibid, Introduction, Vol. II. mens of whose work have been brought together in an excellent anthology published last year.' In Venezuela, which is outstanding in the field of narrative literature, the short story has been culti- vated with abundance and great skill. Arturo Uslar-Pietri and Juliin Padrn, themselves among the most gifted in the field, have brought together in a two-volume anthology the work of recent Venezuelan short-story writers.5 One can hardly be grateful enough for these collections, for much of the work contained in them was published in magazines or newspapers, has not been collected in book form, and would otherwise be unavailable. Al- though there has been little direct influence of the Caribbean on the short story in Colombia, it has infiltrated into the interior through Cartagena and Barranquilla, and has left its traces on the literature of the region of Antioquia, as fecund in this activity as in so many others. One point I should like to stress is that in the work of the writers we have been discussing the characters are almost never prsented in racial terms. They may deal with whites, mestizos, Indians, Negroes, but basically as members of the community of which they form a part of life on an equal human footing. The basis of the distinctions and conflicts that exist are economic and social rather than racial. Uslar-Pietri's analysis of the influences that have brought about the flowering of the short story in Vene- zuela could with equal propriety be applied to the entire Caribbean as well as to the rest of America: "In its most recent forms the Venezuelan short story, which began as a vehicle of artistic prose, which at the crest of the wave of Creolism became a steady delv- ing into and investigation of the popular, is becoming increasingly infused with the breath of poetry, with an ineffable and moving power that stems from the living source, without falsifying a single detail of reality or of subject matter or of the balance of the narration. The work of our most recent short-story writers falls into this category ... those who are seeking out the Venezuelan soul on Venezuelan soil." 4 Rodrigo Mird, El Cuento en Panamd (1950). 5 Arturo Uslar-Pietri y Julian Padrn, Antologla del cuento moderno renezolano, Biblioteca Venezolana de Cultura (1940). 6 Ibid, Introduction, Vol. II. mens of whose work have been brought together in an excellent anthology published last year.4 In Venezuela, which is outstanding in the field of narrative literature, the short story has been culti- vated with abundance and great skill. Arturo Uslar-Pietri and Juliin Padron, themselves among the most gifted in the field, have brought together in a two-volume anthology the work of recent Venezuelan short-story writers.5 One can hardly be grateful enough for these collections, for much of the work contained in them was published in magazines or newspapers, has not been collected in book form, and would otherwise be unavailable. Al- though there has been little direct influence of the Caribbean on the short story in Colombia, it has infiltrated into the interior through Cartagena and Barranquilla, and has left its traces on the literature of the region of Antioquia, as fecund in this activity as in so many others. One point I should like to stress is that in the work of the writers we have been discussing the characters are ahmost never presented in racial terms. They may deal with whites, mestizos, Indians, Negroes, but basically as members of the community of which they form a part of life on an equal human footing. The basis of the distinctions and conflicts that exist are economic and social rather than racial. Uslar-Pietri's analysis of the influences that have brought about the flowering of the short story in Vene- zuela could with equal propriety be applied to the entire Caribbean as well as to the rest of America: "In its most reent forms the Venezuelan short story, which began as a vehicle of artistic prose, which at the crest of the wave of Creolism became a steady delv- ing into and investigation of the popular, is becoming increasingly infused with the breath of poetry, with an ineffable and moving power that stems from the living source, without falsifying a single detail of reality or of subject matter or of the balance of the narration. The work of our most recent short-story writers falls into this category ... those who are seeking out the Venezuelan soul on Venezuelan soil."t 4 Rodrigo Mir6, El Cuento en Panamd (1950). 5 Arturo Uslar-Pietri y Julian Padron, Antologa del cuento moderno cenezolano, Biblioteca Venezolana de Cultura (1940). 6 Ibid, Introduction, Vol. II.  130 The Caribbean IV I must confess that I have found myself baffled to account for the celative absence of the sea in the literature of the Caribbean. The bewilderment, however, is not mine alone. In his introduction to El Cuento en Panamd Rodrigo Mir6 raises the question: "How, then, can we explain that in a country whew the sea is one of its permanent, ever-present dimensions, it should have been over- looked in the work of its writers?" Mir6 attributes it to social and economic easons, having nothing to do with literature. I do not find this explanation convincing. To me it seems rather an unconscious effort to guard against the general and leveling in- fluences, and to emphasize the peculiar, the individual. Only two of the short-story writers of this area, as representative in their field as Salarrue and Bosch in theirs, have set their stories, in part at least, against a background of the sea. They are Lino Novis Calvo of Cuba and Guillermo Menses of Venezuela, and they are urban writers. In Novis Calvo as much as the sea it is the things the sea carries in its wake: the foreign tourists that throng Havana, the picaresque, catch-as-catch-can life of the waterfront, the smuggling, the rum-running, the contact with the United States, mostly in the form of attempts to elude the Coast Guard, that make up the ambient of his writing. The human element is largely the Negro and the mulatto because they constitute a prin- cipal part of the urban proletariat. In Novis Calvo, who was born in Spain in 1905, but who has spent his life since early childhood in Cuba, two strains have met. On the one hand there is the Creole, with its realistic presentation of atmosphere and persons, and on the other, the psychological approach, an attempt to discover the peculiar, the unique human essence in the realm of the subconscious, often the abnormal. His best short stories are contained in the volumes La luna nona y otros cuentos (1942) and Cayo Canas (1946). It may well be that foreign influences are stronger or at least more direct in Novis Calvo than in the other writers we have been discussing. His resemblance to Hemingway and Faulkner has often been pointed out. Perhaps this is more a question of approach and Zeitgeist than actual influence, for there can be no doubt of his originality. What Lionel Trilling has said of these two North American 130 The Caribbean 130 The Caribbean IV I must confess that I have found myself baffled to account for the relative absence of the sea in the literature of the Caribbean. The bewilderment, however, is not mine alone. In his introduction to El Cuento en Panamd Rodrigo Mir6 raises the question: "How, then, can we explain that in a country where the sea is one of its permanent, ever-present dimensions, it should have been over- looked in the work of its writers?" Mir6 attributes it to social and economic reasons, having nothing to do with literature. I do not find this explanation convincing. To me it seems rather an unconscious effort to guard against the general and leveling in- fluences, and to emphasize the peculiar, the individual. Only two of the short-story writers of this area, as representative in their field as Salarru6 and Bosch in theirs, have set their stories, in part at least, against a background of the sea. They are Lino Novas Calvo of Cuba and Guillermo Menses of Venezuela, and they are urban writers. In Novis Calvo as much as the sea it is the things the sea carries in its wake: the foreign tourists that throng Havana, the picanresque, catch-as-catch-can life of the waterfront, the smuggling, the rum-running, the contact with the United States, mostly in the form of attempts to elude the Coast Guard, that make up the ambient of his writing. The human element is largely the Negro and the mulatto because they constitute a prin- cipal part of the urban proletariat. In Novs Calvo, who was born in Spain in 1905, but who has spent his life since early childhood in Cuba,,two strains have met. On the one hand there is the Creole, with its realistic presentation of atmosphere and persons, and on the other, the psychological apprmach, an attempt to discover the peculiar, the unique human essence in the realm of the subconscious, often the abnormal. His best short stories are contained in the volumes La luna nona y otros cuentos (1942) and Cayo Canas (1946). It may well be that foreign influences are stronger or at least more direct in Novis Calvo than in the other writers we have been discussing. His resemblance to Hemingway and Faulkner has often been pointed out. Perhaps this is more a question of approach and Zeitgeist than actual influence, for there can be no doubt of his originality. What Lionel Trilling has said of these two North American IV I must confess that I have found myself bafled to account for the relative absence of the sea in the literature of the Caribbean. The bewilderment, however, is not mine alone. In his introduction to El Cuento en Panamd Rodrigo Mir raises the question: "How, then, can we explain that in a country where the sea is one of its permanent, ever-present dimensions, it should have been over- looked in the work of its writers?" Mir6 attributes it to social and economic reasons, having nothing to do with literature. I do not find this explanation convincing. To me it seems rather an unconscious effort to guard against the general and leveling in- fluences, and to emphasize the peculiar, the individual. Only two of the short-story writers of this area, as representative in their field as Salarru6 and Bosch in theirs, have set their stories, in part at least, against a background of the sea. They are Lino Novis Calvo of Cuba and Guillermo Meneses of Venezuela, and they are urban writers. In NovAs Calvo as much as the sea it is the things the sea carries in its wake: the foreign tourists that throng Havana, the picaresque, catch-as-catch-can life of the waterfront, the smuggling, the rum-running, the contact with the United States, mostly in the form of attempts to elude the Coast Guard, that make up the ambient of his writing. The human element is largely the Negro and the mulatto because they constitute a prin- cipal part of the urban proletariat. In Novis Calvo, who was born in Spain in 1905, but who has spent his life since early childhood in Cuba, two strains have met. On the one hand there is the Creole, with its realistic presentation of atmosphere and persons, and on the other, the psychological approach, an attempt to discover the peculiar, the unique human essence in the realm of the subconscious, often the abnormal. His best short stories are contained in the volumes La luna nona y otros cuentos (1942) and Cayo Canas (1946). It may well be that foreign influences are stronger or at least more direct in Novis Calvo than in the other writers we have been discussing. His resemblance to Hemingway and Faulkner has often been pointed out. Perhaps thsisi moe a question of approach and Zeitgeist than actual influence, for there can be no doubt of his originality. What Lionel Trilling has said of these two North American  CULTURE 131 CULTURE 131 CULTURE writers could, it seems to me, fairly be applied to Novas Calvo: "We feel that Hemingway and Faulkner are intensely at work on the recalcitrant stuff of life .... And our pleasure in their activity is made the more secure because we have the distinct impression that they are not under any illusion that they have conquered the material upon which they direct their activity." 7 Under the sensuality, the harshness, and a violence that often verges on the brutal, there is a rough tenderness in Novis Calvo, a deep sense of comradeship with the lost and the lonely, an affirmation of the essential humanness that knows no distinction of race or color. He brings into his work the primitive rites and superstitions of the Cuban Negroes, the spells, the incantations by which they endeavor to control the forces that shape their lives and lend interest and excitement and a sense of power to their drab, poverty-stricken existence. There is a vigorous school of Negro literature in Cuba, both in prose and poetry. Lydia Cabrera and Alejo Charpentier, to men- tion only two, have used the myths and legends that were brought to the island by the African slaves as the subject matter of their narrations. Beautiful though they are, they are an exotic growth, and give little sense of the reality of the Negro of Cuba, who is no longer an African, but an integral part of the culture of Cuba, and who cannot be studied out of his context if he is to reflect his life today. V The work of Guillermo Meneses, born in 1911, the youngest of the four I have chosen to discuss here, centers about the life of the port of La Guayra, Venezuela. His production has not been abundant, and he is perhaps better known as a novelist than as a short story writer. In the latter field he has written a volume entitled Tres Cuentos Venezolanos (1938), and a long short story, or novelette, which is one of the most perfectly achieved examples of the form, "La balandra Isabel lleg6 esta tarde." It is a tragedy played on muted strings, a story of the rivalry between a woman and the sea for a man's love, a rivalry at least as old as Jason and Medea and the Argonaut. The setting could hardly be more 7 Lionel Trilling, op. cit. writers could, it seems to me, fairly be applied to Novs Calvo: "We feel that Hemingway and Faulkner are intensely at work on the recalcitrant stuff of life .... And our pleasure in their activity is made the more secure because we have the distinct impression that they are not under any illusion that they have conquered the material upon which they direct their activity." 7 Under the sensuality, the harshness, and a violence that often verges on the brutal, there is a rough tenderness in Novis Calvo, a deep sense of comradeship with the lost and the lonely, an affirmation of the essential humanness that knows no distinction of race or color. He brings into his work the primitive rites and superstitions of the Cuban Negroes, the spells, the incantations by which they endeavor to control the forces that shape their lives and lend interest and excitement and a sense of power to their drab, poverty-stricken existence. There is a vigorous school of Negro literature in Cuba, both in prose and poetry. Lydia Cabrera and Alejo Charpentier, to men- tion only two, have used the myths and legends that were brought to the island by the African slaves as the subject matter of their narrations. Beautiful though they are, they are an exotic growth, and give little sense of the reality of the Negro of Cuba, who is no longer an African, but an integral part of the culture of Cuba, and who cannot be studied out of his context if he is to reflect his life today. V The work of Guillermo Meneses, born in 1911, the youngest of the four I have chosen to discuss here, centers about the life of the port of La Guayra, Venezuela. His production has not been abundant, and he is perhaps better known as a novelist than as a short story writer. In the latter field he has written a volume entitled Tres Cuentos Venezolanos (1938), and a long short story, or novelette, which is one of the most perfectly achieved examples of the form, "La balandra Isabel lleg6 esta tarde." It is a tragedy played on muted strings, a story of the rivalry between a woman and the sea for a man's love, a rivalry at least as old as Jason and Medea and the Argonaut. The setting could hardly be more 7 Lionel Trilling, op. cit. writers could, it seems to me, fairly be applied to Novas Calve: "We feel that Hemingway and Faulkner are intensely at work on the recalcitrant stuff of life .... And our pleasure in their activity is made the more secure because we have the distinct impression that they are not under any illusion that they have conquered the material upon which they direct their activity." 7 Under the sensuality, the harshness, and a violence that often verges on the brutal, there is a rough tenderness in NovAs Calve, a deep sense of comradeship with the lost and the lonely, an affirmation of the essential humanness that knows no distinction of race or color. He brings into his work the primitive rites and superstitions of the Cuban Negroes, the spells, the incantations by which they endeavor to control the forces that shape their lives and lend interest and excitement and a sense of power to their drab, poverty-stricken existence. There is a vigorous school of Negro literature in Cuba, both in prose and poetry. Lydia Cabrera and Alejo Charpentier, to men- tion only two, have used the myths and legends that were brought to the island by the African slaves as the subject matter of their narrations. Beautiful though they are, they are an exotic growth, and give little sense of the reality of the Negro of Cuba, who is no longer an African, but an integral part of the culture of Cuba, and who cannot be studied out of his context if he is to reflect his life today. The work of Guillermo Menses, born in 1911, the youngest of the four I have chosen to discuss here, centers about the life of the port of La Guayra, Venezuela. His production has not been abundant, and he is perhaps better known as a novelist than as a short story writer. In the latter field he has written a volume entitled Tres Cuentos Venezolanos (1938), and a long short story, or novelette, which is one of the most perfectly achieved examples of the form, "La balandra Isabel Ileg6 esta tarde." It is a tragedy played on muted strings, a story of the rivalry between a woman and the sea for a man's love, a rivalry at least as old as Jason and Medea and the Argonaut. The setting could hardly be more 7 Lionel Trilling, op. cit.  132 The Caribbean commonplace: a freighter, a ship's hand, and a prostitute. Such action as there is has to do with the girl's despairing effort to keep from losing him to her more powerful rival. But Meneses has so charged it with poetry, with pathos, with the eternal tragedy of frustration and loneliness that it has an application far beyond the immediate situation it deals with. It is a cross section of life along a Caribbean waterfront-which resembles that of any port- with its taverns, its sailors, its prostitutes, and all the human flotsam and jetsam the sea thmws up on its beaches. Nothing really happens; the man sails away, the girl remains, her last hope of happiness shattered when a voodoo spell she has invoked to bind him to her side fails, and life goes on, indifferently, monotonously. Meneses' best novel, Campeones, is really a series of episodes in the life of a group of boys who have grown up around the waterfront, and whose goal of existence is to become professional players of baseball, that imported sport that has become as popular in Vene- zuela as in its place of origin. Fabiin Dobles of Costa Rica has approached the coastal areas of the Caribbean in certain of his stories dealing with the life of the workers on the banana plantations of the foreign fruit com- panies. But his best work is that which centers about the inland regions of Costa Rica, and the same thing is true of Emilio Belaval of Puerto Rico. VI I should be reluctant to conclude without mentioning certain Caribbean authors who have cultivated a special type of short story that does not come wholly under either of the above classifi- cations. One is the excellent group of writers who have found their inspiration in the Mayan civilization: Ermilo Abreu Gmez and Antonio Mediz Bolio of Yucatan, and Miguel Angel Asturias and Carlos Samayoa Chinchilla of Guatemala. They are steeped in the mythology of the Popol Vuh and other Indian chronicles, and have both recreated the old legends and sought out their per- sistence among the present-day inhabitants of those lands. And there are Carmen Lyra of Costa Rica and Antonio Arraiz of Venezuela, who have adapted to a local setting the animal fables that have acquired citizenship in every land since they set out so long ago on their travels from their native India. Arraiz is at 132 The Caribbean 132 The Caribbean commonplace: a freighter, a ship's hand, and a prostitute. Such action as there is has to do with the girl's despairing effort to keep from losing him to her more powerful rival. But Meneses has so charged it with poetry, with pathos, with the eternal tragedy of frustration and loneliness that it has an application far beyond the immediate situation it deals with. It is a cross section of life along a Caribbean waterfront-which resembles that of any port- with its taverns, its sailors, its prostitutes, and all the human flotsam and jetsam the sea throws up on its beaches. Nothing really happens; the man sails away, the girl remains, her last hope of happiness shattered when a voodoo spell she has invoked to bind him to her side fails, and life goes on, indifferently, monotonously. Meneses' best novel, Campeones, is really a series of episodes in the life of a group of boys who have grown up amund the waterfront, and whose goal of existence is to become professional players of baseball, that imported sport that has become as popular in Vene- zuela as in its place of origin. Fabian Dobles of Costa Rica has approached the coastal areas of the Caribbean in certain of his stories dealing with the life of the workers on the banana plantations of the foreign fruit com- panies. But his best work is that which centers about the inland regions of Costa Rica, and the same thing is true of Emilio Belaval of Puerto Rico. VI I should be reluctant to conclude without mentioning certain Caribbean authors who have cultivated a special type of short story that does not come wholly under either of the above classifi- cations. One is the excellent group of writers who have found their inspiration in the Mayan civilization: Ermilo Abreu Gsmez and Antonio Midiz Bolin of Yucatan, and Miguel Angel Asturias and Carlos Samayoa Chinchilla of Guatemala. They are steeped in the mythology of the Popol Vuh and other Indian chronicles, and have both recreated the old legends and sought out their per- sistence among the present-day inhabitants of those lands. And there are Carmen Lyra of Costa Rica and Antonio Arraiz of Venezuela, who have adapted to a local setting the animal fables that have acquired citizenship in every land since they set out so long ago on their travels from their native India. Arraiz is at commonplace: a feighter, a ship's hand, and a prostitute. Such action as there is has to do with the girl's despairing effort to keep from losing him to her more powerful rival. But Meneses has so charged it with poetry, with pathos, with the eternal tragedy of frustration and loneliness that it has an application far beyond the immediate situation it deals with. It is a cross section of life along a Caribbean waterfront-which esembles that of any port- with its taverns, its sailors, its prostitutes, and all the human flotsam and jetsam the sea throws up on its beaches. Nothing really happens; the man sails away, the girl remains, her last hope of happiness shattered when a voodoo spell she has invoked to bind him to her side fails, and life goes on, indifferently, monotonously. Meneses' best novel, Campeones, is really a series of episodes in the life of a group of boys who have grown up around the waterfont, and whose goal of existence is to become prmfessional players of baseball, that imported sport that has become as popular in Vene- zuela as in its place of origin. Fabian Dobles of Costa Rica has approached the coastal areas of the Caribbean in certain of his stories dealing with the life of the workers on the banana plantations of the foreign fruit com- panies. But his best work is that which centers about the inland regions of Costa Rica, and the same thing is true of Emilio Belaval of Puerto Rico. VI I should be reluctant to conclude without mentioning certain Caribbean authors who have cultivated a special type of short story that does not come wholly under either of the above classifi- cations. One is the excellent group of writers who have found their inspiration in the Mayan civilization: Ermilo Abreu Gmez and Antonio Mtdiz Bolie of Yucatan, and Miguel Angel Asturias and Carlos Samayoa Chinchilla of Guatemala. They are steeped in the mythology of the Popol Vuh and other Indian chronicles, and have both recenated the old legends and sought out their per- sistence among the present-day inhabitants of those lands. And there are Carmen Lyra of Costa Rica and Antonio Arraiz of Venezuela, who have adapted to a local setting the animal fables that have acquired citizenship in every land since they set out so long ago on their travels from their native India. Arraiz is at  CULTURE 133 CULTURE 133 CULTURE 133 times inclined to inject a moral lesson into his work, but Carmen Lyra relates the exploits of Brer Fox, Brer Rabbit, and their scampish or victimized associates with the same rollicking inconse- quence as our own Joel Chandler Harris. Like him, she would probably have called herself a "cornfield writer," but she achieved the superlatively difficult task of giving new life to a twice-told tale, putting into it the suggestions conveyed by the landscape, the customs, the traditions of her native land. One of the things that has given me the most food for thought in examining the literary production of the Caribbean today is the absence of so many of the themes that are the focal point of writers elsewhere: the world wars, the struggle between conflicting ideologies, the breakdown of modern civilization. It is as though the Spanish-American writers had turned their back on a world they never made, and in which they feel themselves pawns in a titanic chess game rather than active participants. They have pre- ferred to withdraw and turn their eyes upon their own peculiar problems. To be sure, there is not much that the sense of anxiety and insecurity which grips the world today could say to those who have never known security-torn as they have been by civil wars, political instability, economic depression, and underprivilege. It could only be the extension on a larger scale of a tragedy that is endemic among them. But perhaps this ignoring of the issues that convulse the world today, which at first glance might seem a limitation, may indicate a deep aesthetic intuition. Perhaps this steadfastness to the timeless quality of art, to that which survives through periods of interruption, diminishment, and transformation, is an act of faith and an offering in its defense. For in one way or another, to our satisfaction or our chagrin, these besetting prob- lems will be resolved one day, and when this happens much of the writing that now seems so vital and pertinent will have become musty documentation. Paul Valery has put it very well in his pro- logue to the French translation of Gabriela Mistral's poems: "I have seen in Latin America ... a laboratory where the essence of our creations and the crystallization of our ideals combine with the virgin principles and the natural energies of a land wholly dedi- cated to the poetic adventure and to the intellectual fruitfulness of the days to come." times inclined to inject a moral lesson into his work, but Carmen Lyra relates the exploits of Brer Fox, Brer Rabbit, and their scampish or victimized associates with the same rollicking inconse- quence as our own Joel Chandler Harris. Like him, she would probably have called herself a "cornfield writer," but she achieved the superlatively difficult task of giving new life to a twice-told tale, putting into it the suggestions conveyed by the landscape, the customs, the traditions of her native land. One of the things that has given me the most food for thought in examining the literary production of the Caribbean today is the absence of so many of the themes that are the focal point of writers elsewhere: the world wars, the struggle between conflicting ideologies, the breakdown of modern civilization. It is as though the Spanish-American writers had turned their back on a world they never made, and in which they feel themselves pawns in a titanic chess game rather than active participants. They have pre- ferred to withdraw and turn their eyes upon their own peculiar problems. To be sure, there is not much that the sense of anxiety and insecurity which grips the world today could say to those who have never known security-torn as they have been by civil wars, political instability, economic depression, and underprivilege. It could only be the extension on a larger scale of a tragedy that is endemic among them. But perhaps this ignoring of the issues that convulse the world today, which at fit glance might seem a limitation, may indicate a deep aesthetic intuition. Perhaps this steadfastness to the timeless quality of art, to that which survives through periods of interruption, diminishment, and transformation, is an act of faith and an offering in its defense. For in one way or another, to our satisfaction or our chagrin, these besetting prob- lems will be resolved one day, and when this happens much of the writing that now seems so vital and pertinent will have become musty documentation. Paul Valery has put it very well in his pro- logue to the French translation of Gabriela Mistral's poems: "I have seen in Latin America ... a laboratory where the essence of our creations and the crystallization of our ideals combine with the virgin principles and the natural energies of a land wholly dedi- cated to the poetic adventure and to the intellectual fruitfulness of the days to come." times inclined to inject a moral lesson into his work, but Carmen Lyra relates the exploits of Brer Fox, Brer Rabbit, and their scampish or victimized associates with the same mllicking inconse- quence as our own Joel Chandler Harris. Like him, she would probably have called herself a "cornfield writer," but she achieved the superlatively difficult task of giving new life to a twice-told tale, putting into it the suggestions conveyed by the landscape, the customs, the traditions of her native land. One of the things that has given me the most food for thought in examining the literary production of the Caribbean today is the absence of so many of the themes that are the focal point of writers elsewhere: the world wars, the struggle between conflicting ideologies, the breakdown of modern civilization. It is as though the Spanish-American writers had turned their back on a world they never made, and in which they feel themselves pawns in a titanic chess game rather than active participants. They have pre- ferred to withdraw and turn their eyes upon their own peculiar problems. To be sure, there is not much that the sense of anxiety and insecurity which grips the world today could say to those who have never known security-torn as they have been by civil wars, political instability, economic depression, and underprivilege. It could only be the extension on a larger scale of a tragedy that is endemic among them. But perhaps this ignoring of the issues that convulse the world today, which at first glance might seem a limitation, may indicate a deep aesthetic intuition. Perhaps this steadfastness to the timeless quality of art, to that which survives through periods of interruption, diminishment, and transformation, is an act of faith and an offering in its defense. For in one way or another, to our satisfaction or our chagrin, these besetting prob- lems will be resolved one day, and when this happens much of the writing that now seems so vital and pertinent will have become musty documentation. Paul Valery has put it very well in his pro. logue to the French translation of Gabriela Mistral's poems: "I have seen in Latin America ... a laboratory where the essence of our creations and the crystallization of our ideals combine with the virgin principles and the natural energies of a land wholly dedi- cated to the poetic adventure and to the intellectual fruitfulness of the days to come."  134 The Caribbean The best summing-up of the guiding principles and objectives of the literature I have touched upon so briefly here, comes from a man who is the essence of the Caribbean, and whose name is a beacon in the literature of all the Spanish-speaking world, Ruben Dario: Yo no, yo persisto. Pretiritas normas Confirman mi anhelo,.mi ser, mi existir. Yo soy el amante de ensueos y formas Que viene de lejos y va al porvenir. 134 The Caribbean 134 The Caribbean The best summing-up of the guiding principles and objectives of the literature I have touched upon so briefly here, comes from a man who is the essence of the Caribbean, and whose name is a beacon in the literature of all the Spanish-speaking world, Rubin Dario: Yo no, yo persisto. Pretsritas normas Confirman mi anhelo,.mi set, mi existir. Yo soy el amante de ensueos y formas Que viene de lejos y va al porvenir. The best summing-up of the guiding principles and objectives of the literature I have touched upon so briefly here, comes from a man who is the essence of the Caribbean, and whose name is a beacon in the literature of all the Spanish-speaking world, Ruben Dario: Yo no, yo persisto. Pretdritas normas Conlrman mi anhelo, .mi ser, mi existir. Yo soy el amante de ensueiios y formas Que viene de lejos y va al porvenir.  13 13 Arturo Torres-Rioseco: SOCIAL EVOLUTION AND THE MEXICAN NOVEL I HAVE affirmed more than once that Latin American literature has already reached its period of maturity. With this in mind we shall be able to undertake a series of studies derived from this statement and arrive at conclusions interesting not only to the liter- ary critic but also to the sociologist, the historian, or the student of political science. In the present essay I wish to consider the social evolution of Mexico as it is revealed in the most representative novels of this geographical zone, since Mexico is the most important sociological laboratory in Latin America. But first, and as introductory remarks, I shall make some brief observations about certain political, social, and economic changes that have taken place in Latin America and that may be used as points of reference in this discussion. The great industrial development in Latin America, which begins in the second half of the nineteenth century, revolutionizes the cultural panorama of the whole continent. Produced by the influx of European immigration, its first consequence is the rapid increase in wealth of the capitalistic class, the extraordinary growth of cities, the creation of institutions of a democratic type, the development of popular education, the weakening of oligarchical and dictatorial governments, the formation of workers' federations, and a progressive leveling of society. Some of these signs of progress 135 Arturo Torres-Rioseco: SOCIAL EVOLUTION AND THE MEXICAN NOVEL I HAVE affirmed more than once that Latin American literature has already reached its period of maturity. With this in mind we shall be able to undertake a series of studies derived from this statement and arrive at conclusions interesting not only to the liter- ary critic but also to the sociologist, the historian, or the student of political science. In the present essay I wish to consider the social evolution of Mexico as it is revealed in the most representative novels of this geographical zone, since Mexico is the most important sociological laboratory in Latin America. But first, and as introductory remarks, I shall make some brief observations about certain political, social, and economic changes that have taken place in Latin America and that may be used as points of reference in this discussion. The great industrial development in Latin America, which begins in the second half of the nineteenth century, revolutionizes the cultural panorama of the whole continent. Produced by the influx of European immigration, its first consequence is the rapid increase in wealth of the capitalistic class, the extraordinary growth of cities, the creation of institutions of a democratic type, the development of popular education, the weakening of oligarchical and dictatorial governments, the formation of workers' federations, and a progressive leveling of society. Some of these signs of progress 135 Arturo Torres-Rioseco: SOCIAL EVOLUTION AND THE MEXICAN NOVEL I HAVE affirmed more than once that Latin American literature has already reached its period of maturity. With this in mind we shall be able to undertake a series of studies derived from this statement and arrive at conclusions interesting not only to the liter- ary critic but also to the sociologist, the historian, or the student of political science. In the present essay I wish to consider the social evolution of Mexico as it is revealed in the most representative novels of this geographical zone, since Mexico is the most important sociological laboratory in Latin America. But first, and as introductory remarks, I shall make some brief observations about certain political, social, and economic changes that have taken place in Latin America and that may be used as points of reference in this discussion. The great industrial development in Latin America, which begins in the second half of the nineteenth century, revolutionizes the cultural panorama of the whole continent. Produced by the influx of European immigration, its first consequence is the rapid increase in wealth of the capitalistic class, the extraordinary growth of cities, the creation of institutions of a democratic type, the development of popular education, the weakening of oligarchical and dictatorial governments, the formation of workers' federations, and a progressive leveling of society. Some of these signs of progress  136 The Caribbean are permanent and others temporary, but at bottom a process of economic, political, and social evolution has been established, a process which reactionary forces may be able to retard but never to destroy. Towards the end of the nineteenth century there appear as great cities Buenos Aires, Mexico, Sao Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, and San- tiago de Chile; cattlemen, industrialists, miners, farmers, bankers, businessmen, and speculators begin to amass huge fortunes. A vigorous middle class arises which soon will dominate the political and intellectual horizon of our nations, founding its growth and power on solid democratic principles. The industrial life of the cities improves the economic level of the workers, and through the formation of unions creates in them a stronger social conscious- ness. At the same time, as the cities grow richer they feel the desire for a greater culture; hence, the advance in popular educa- tion. The words Democracy and Liberty begin to acquire a very real significance, thus weakening Autocracy, which is the prevailing political system of the first half of the nineteenth century. One by one the caudillos begin to fall and they are replaced by the first constitutional and democratic pmsidents, such as Juirez, Balmaceda, and Sarmiento. In our century this progress is more evident: immigration in- creases; mining is greatly developed; oil, nitrates, rubber, sugar, coffee, wheat, and even bananas and tourism become new sources of wealth. But coincident with this prodigious progress of industry, commerce, and exploitation of raw materials, we observe the dis- turbing lack of balance in the distribution of wealth. Economic inequality seems to be a fatal necessity in our societies, and the moe the fortunes of the rich increase the more evident are the poverty and the misery of the peasant, the unskilled labore, and the Indian. Political democracy has betrayed the people by emating new priv- ileges for some and new injustices for others. One feels the need for the creation of a democratic structure that could be applied to the social and economic life of the people. The great masses of exploited men, guided first by the democratic example of the United States and second by the golden promises of leftist propaganda, acquire a consciousness of their human rights; thus, we face the biggest problem of Latin America, that is, the 136 The Caribbean 136 The Caribbean are permanent and others temporary, but at bottom a process of economic, political, and social evolution has been established, a process which reactionary forces may be able to retard but never to destroy. Towards the end of the nineteenth century thee appear as great cities Buenos Aires, Mexico, Sao Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, and San- tiago de Chile; cattlemen, industrialists, miners, farmers, bankers, businessmen, and speculators begin to amass huge fortunes. A vigorous middle class arises which soon will dominate the political and intellectual horizon of our nations, founding its growth and power on solid democratic principles. The industrial life of the cities improves the economic level of the workers, and through the formation of unions creates in them a stronger social conscious- ness. At the same time, as the cities grow richer they feel the desire for a greater culture; hence, the advance in popular educa- tion. The words Democracy and Liberty begin to acquire a very real significance, thus weakening Autocracy, which is the prevailing political system of the first half of the nineteenth century. One by one the caudillos begin to fall and they are replaced by the first constitutional and democratic presidents, such as Juirez, Balmaceda, and Sarmiento. In our century this progress is more evident: immigration in- creases; mining is greatly developed; oil, nitrates, rubber, sugar, coffee, wheat, and even bananas and tourism become new sources of wealth. But coincident with this prodigious progress of industry, commerce, and exploitation of raw materials, we observe the dis- turbing lack of balance in the distribution of wealth. Economic inequality seems to be a fatal necessity in our societies, and the more the fortunes of the rich increase the mom evident are the poverty and the misery of the peasant, the unskilled laborer, and the Indian. Political democracy has betrayed the people by creating new priv- ileges for some and new injustices for others. One feels the need for the creation of a democratic structure that could be applied to the social and economic life of the people. The great masses of exploited men, guided first by the democratic example of the United States and second by the golden promises of leftist propaganda, acquire a consciousness of their human rights; thus, we face the biggest problem of Latin America, that is, the are permanent and others temporary, but at bottom a process of economic, political, and social evolution has been established, a process which reactionary forces may be able to retard but never to destroy. Towards the end of the nineteenth century there appear as great cities Buenos Aires, Mexico, Sao Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, and San- tiago de Chile; cattlemen, industrialists, miners, farmers, bankers, businessmen, and speculators begin to amass huge fortunes. A vigorous middle class arises which soon will dominate the political and intellectual horizon of our nations, founding its growth and power on solid democratic principles. The industrial life of the cities improves the economic level of the workers, and through the formation of unions creates in them a stronger social conscious- ness. At the same time, as the cities grow richer they feel the desire for a greater culture; hence, the advance in popular educa- tion. The words Democracy and Liberty begin to acquire a very real significance, thus weakening Autocracy, which is the prevailing political system of the first half of the nineteenth century. One by one the caudillos begin to fall and they are mplaced by the first constitutional and democratic pmsidents, such as Juarez, Balmaceda, and Sarmiento. In our century this progress is more evident: immigration in- creases; mining is greatly developed; oil, nitrates, rubber, sugar, coffee, wheat, and even bananas and tourism become new sources of wealth. But coincident with this prodigious progress of industry, commerce, and exploitation of raw materials, we observe the dis- turbing lack of balance in the distribution of wealth. Economic inequality seems to be a fatal necessity in our societies, and the more the fortunes of the rich increase the more evident am the poverty and the misery of the peasant, the unskilled laborer, and the Indian. Political democracy has betrayed the people by creating new priv- ileges for some and new injustices for others. One feels the need for the creation of a democratic structure that could be applied to the social and economic life of the people. The great masses of exploited men, guided first by the democratic example of the United States and second by the golden promises of leftist propaganda, acquire a consciousness of their human rights; thus, we face the biggest problem of Latin America, that is, the  CULTURE 137 CULTURE 137 CULTURE struggle between capital and labor, between the exploiters and exploited, between misery and wealth. Democracy is the loser. When the masses demand decent living conditions and fair wages the so-called forces of law and order are mobilized, and the protest or strike is suppressed by the police or the army. Thus we have here a fast anti-democratic peocess in which con- stitutional guarantees are violated, opening the way to dictatorship and despotism. With methods of this kind the abyss which separates the worker from the boss, the liberal from the reactionary, liberty from totalitarianism, is enlarged; and this is the reason why Latin American nations pass with incredible facility from demagogic democracy to absolute forms of dictatorships. Brutal dictatorship produces the formation of rebellious groups, or underground re- sistance; democratic activities become forces of violence, and the men who represent the progressive spirit find themselves all of a sudden among the most militant radicals. Liberal youth, always ready to sacrifice itself, joins these resistance groups and openly challenges the forces of reaction and absolutism. This is a common process in all the countries of Latin America. For the purpose of this paper, however, I shall leave aside the progress of liberalism in South America; the struggle of 1918 against the Chilean oligarchy; the university reform in Argentina of the same year; the establishment of the popular universities in Peru; the founding of the Aprista party of Haya de la Torre and the fostering of its principles throughout the continent; and I shall limit myself to studying the case of Mexico. II In the year 1910 the revolution against the dictatorship of Porfirio Diaz broke out. The tyrant had ruled his country for thirty years with an iron hand. With the murder of the humani- tarian Francisco Madero, a period of anarchy began which lasted nearly twenty years. Ambitious generals and immoral political chieftains betrayed the most elementary principles of the Madero movement. When it appeared that the revolution had been a com- plete failure, the government of Lazaro Cardenas succeeded in giving a higher meaning to the revolutionary ideal, and Mexico entered into an era of peace and democratic reconstruction, the struggle between capital and labor, between the exploiters and exploited, between misery and wealth. Democracy is the loser. When the masses demand decent living conditions and fair wages the so-called forces of law and order are mobilized, and the protest or strike is suppressed by the police or the army. Thus we have here a fast anti-democratic process in which con- stitutional guarantees are violated, opening the way to dictatorship and despotism. With methods of this kind the abyss which separates the worker from the boss, the liberal from the reactionary, liberty from totalitarianism, is enlarged; and this is the reason why Latin American nations pass with incredible facility from demagogic democracy to absolute forms of dictatorships. Brutal dictatorship produces the formation of rebellious groups, or underground re- sistance; democratic activities become forces of violence, and the men who represent the progressive spirit find themselves all of a sudden among the most militant radicals. Liberal youth, always ready to sacrifice itself, joins these resistance groups and openly challenges the forces of reaction and absolutism. This is a common process in all the countries of Latin America. For the purpose of this paper, however, I shall leave aside the progress of liberalism in South America; the struggle of 1918 against the Chilean oligarchy; the university reform in Argentina of the same year; the establishment of the popular universities in Peru; the founding of the Aprista party of Haya de la Torre and the fostering of its principles throughout the continent; and I shall limit myself to studying the case of Mexico. II In the year 1910 the revolution against the dictatorship of Porfirio Diaz broke out. The tyrant had ruled his country for thirty years with an iron hand. With the murder of the humani- tarian Francisco Madero, a period of anarchy began which lasted nearly twenty years. Ambitious generals and immoral political chieftains betrayed the most elementary principles of the Madero movement. When it appeared that the revolution had been a com- plete failure, the government of Lazaro Cardenas succeeded in giving a higher meaning to the revolutionary ideal, and Mexico entered into an era of peace and democratic reconstruction, the struggle between capital and labor, between the exploiters and exploited, between misery and wealth. Democracy is the loser. When the masses demand decent living conditions and fair wages the so-called forces of law and order are mobilized, and the protest or strike is suppressed by the police or the army. Thus we have here a fast anti-democratic process in which con- stitutional guarantees are violated, opening the way to dictatorship and despotism. With methods of this kind the abyss which separates the worker from the boss, the liberal from the reactionary, liberty from totalitarianism, is enlarged; and this is the reason why Latin American nations pass with incredible facility from demagogic democracy to absolute forms of dictatorships. Brutal dictatorship produces the formation of rebellious groups, or underground re- sistance; democratic activities become forces of violence, and the men who represent the progressive spirit find themselves all of a sudden among the most militant radicals. Liberal youth, always ready to sacrifice itself, joins these resistance groups and openly challenges the forces of reaction and absolutism. This is a common process in all the countries of Latin America. For the purpose of this paper, however, I shall leave aside the progress of liberalism in South America; the struggle of 1918 against the Chilean oligarchy; the university reform in Argentina of the same year; the establishment of the popular universities in Peru; the founding of the Aprista party of Haya de la Torre and the fostering of its principles throughout the continent; and I shall limit myself to studying the case of Mexico. II In the year 1910 the revolution against the dictatorship of Porfirio Diaz broke out. The tyrant had ruled his country for thirty years with an iron hand. With the murder of the humani- tarian Francisco Madero, a period of anarchy began which lasted nearly twenty years. Ambitious generals and immoral political chieftains betrayed the most elementary principles of the Madero movement. When it appeared that the revolution had been a com- plete failure, the government of Lizaro Cdrdenas succeeded in giving a higher meaning to the revolutionary ideal, and Mexico entered into an era of peace and democratic reconstruction, the  138 The Caribbean results of which are evident today. Cardenas' regime marks the highest moment of the revolution. The Mexican writers who, during the time of Porfirio Diaz, had escaped reality, cultivating almost exclusively lyric poetry and the romantic novel, entered with the revolution into a world of bitter and stark realism. It was as if all of a sudden artists andewriters had made a discovery of the fatherland. The same year of the fall of the tyrant, Justo Sierra founded the National University of Mexico; at that time also the Ateneo de la Juventud was formed by young thinkers, men of letters, and artists full of an intense faith in the culture and the destiny of their country. Among the found- ers of this institution we find some of those men that soon were to be the leaders of new cultural movements: Antonio Caso and Jose Vasconcelos in philosophy, Pedro Henriquez Urefla and Alfonso Reyes in literature, Diego Rivera in painting, and Manuel Ponce in music. The Ateneo forgets the Olympian attitude of the writers of the Porfirio Diaz epoch, and tries to get closer to the people; thus it creates a society for public lectures and organizes the first popular university of the nation. We are witnessing a revolutionary cul- tural movement. All these intellectual leaders are men of social ideals; therefore, they are innovators in sociology and literature, and soon they will discover the formula which characterizes this last half-century of Mexican art: art for the people. Since 1911 there has also existed in Mexico a social phenomenon called the Indianist movement. The interest in the Indian goes beyond the desire to incorporate him into the civic life of the nation, to make him a civilized being. One has to study his prehistory; hence the development of archeology (Alfonso Caso, Gamio); one must interpret him in painting (Orozco, Rivera, Al- faro Siqueiros); in music (Chivez, Revueltas); and in literature (Heriberto Frias, Mediz Bolie, Azuela). One of the founders of the Ateneo de la Juventud, D. Jos6 Vas- concelos, who had become Secretary of Education in 1921, began a series of radical reforms. He is the great popularizer of art in Mexico; he took the statues from the museums and scattered them about plazas and public parks; he brought about the publi- cation of a series of world classics (The Bible, Aeschylus, Dante) to be distributed gratis among the people; he sent hundreds of 138 The Caribbean 138 The Caribbean results of which are evident today. Cardenas' regime marks the highest moment of the revolution. The Mexican writers who, during the time of Porfirio Diaz, had escaped reality, cultivating almost exclusively lyric poetry and the romantic novel, entered with the revolution into a world of bitter and stark realism. It was as if all of a sudden artists and writers had made a discovery of the fatherland. The same year of the fall of the tyrant, Justo Sierra founded the National University of Mexico; at that time also the Ateneo de la Juventud was formed by young thinkers, men of letters, and artists full of an intense faith in the culture and the destiny of their country. Among the found- ers of this institution we find some of those men that soon were to be the leaders of new cultural movements: Antonio Caso and Jos6 Vasconcelos in philosophy, Pedro Henriquez Urefia and Alfonso Reyes in literature, Diego Rivera in painting, and Manuel Ponce in music. The Ateneo forgets the Olympian attitude of the writers of the Porfirio Diaz epoch, and tries to get closer to the people; thus it creates a society for public lectures and organizes the first popular university of the nation. We are witnessing a revolutionary cul- tural movement. All these intellectual leaders are men of social ideals; therefore, they are innovators in sociology and literature, and soon they will discover the formula which characterizes this last half-century of Mexican art: art for the people. Since 1911 there has also existed in Mexico a social phenomenon called the Indianist movement. The interest in the Indian goes beyond the desire to incorporate him into the civic life of the nation, to make him a civilized being. One has to study his prehistory; hence the development of archeology (Alfonso Caso, Gamio) ; one must interpret him in painting (Orozco, Rivera, Al- faro Siqueiros); in music (Chivez, Revueltas); and in literature (Heriberto Frias, Mediz Belie, Azuela). One of the founders of the Ateneo de la Juventud, D. Jos6 Vas- concelos, who had become Secretary of Education in 1921, began a series of radical reforms. He is the great popularizer of art in Mexico; he took the statues from the museums and scattered them about plazas and public parks; he brought about the publi- cation of a series of world classics (The Bible, Aeschylus, Dante) to be distributed gratis among the people; he sent hundreds of results of which are evident today. Cardenas' regime marks the highest moment of the revolution. The Mexican writers who, during the time of Porfirio Diaz, had escaped reality, cultivating almost exclusively lyric poetry and the romantic novel, entered with the revolution into a world of bitter and stark realism. It was as if all of a sudden artists and writers had made a discovery of the fatherland. The same year of the fall of the tyrant, Justo Sierra founded the National University of Mexico; at that time also the Ateneo de la Juventud was formed by young thinkers, men of letters, and artists full of an intense faith in the culture and the destiny of their country. Among the found- ers of this institution we find some of those men that soon were to be the leaders of new cultural movements: Antonio Caso and Jose Vasconcelos in philosophy, Pedro Henriquez Urefia and Alfonso Reyes in literature, Diego Rivera in painting, and Manuel Ponce in music. The Ateneo forgets the Olympian attitude of the writers of the Porfirio Diaz epoch, and tries to get closer to the people; thus it creates a society for public lectures and organizes the first popular university of the nation. We are witnessing a revolutionary cul- tural movement. All these intellectual leaders are men of social ideals; therefore, they are innovators in sociology and literature, and soon they will discover the formula which characterizes this last half-century of Mexican art: art for the people. Since 1911 there has also existed in Mexico a social phenomenon called the Indianist movement. The interest in the Indian goes beyond the desire to incorporate him into the civic life of the nation, to make him a civilized being. One has to study his prehistory; hence the development of archeology (Alfonso Caso, Gamio) ; one must interpret him in painting (Orozco, Rivera, Al- faro Siqueiros); in music (Chivez, Revueltas); and in literature (Heriberto Frias, Mediz Belie, Azuela). One of the founders of the Ateneo de la Juventud, D. Jos6 Vas- concelos, who had become Secretary of Education in 1921, began a series of radical reforms. He is the great popularizer of art in Mexico; he took the statues from the museums and scattered them about plazas and public parks; he brought about the publi- cation of a series of world classics (The Bible, Aeschylus, Dante) to be distributed gratis among the people; he sent hundreds of  CULTURE 139 CULTURE 139 CULTURE teachers to remote Indian villages; he called the great muralists to decorate government buildings; he encouraged young composers and writers. In short, Vasconcelos is the soul of the educational, intellectual, and artistic life of his generation. In the meantime, literature goes through a process of change. Two great poets transform and give new vigor to poetry. Enrique Gonzalez Martinez gives to it new depth and thought; Ram6n L6pez Velarde enriches it with provincial themes, and finally, in his definitive poem, Suave Patria, gives us a masterful interpreta- tion of the greatness and beauty of his homeland. The revolutionary novel becomes a mirror where one can see that complex and chaotic world which is contemporary Mexican society. Plastic and literary forms become symbols and to the brutal scenes of a fatal reality correspond the tragic scenes of Rivera's and Orozco's pic- tures and the dramatic novels of M. Azuela, Martin Luis Guzmin and Gregorio L6pez y Fuentes. The whole process of the revolution is portrayed in the novel. In Los de abajo (1916) we find the failure of those ideals of reform and justice which were the core of Madero's philosophy. Azuela sees the revolution without a partisan attitude, such as it is in its bitter reality, and this is why many of his critics say that he is not an authentic revolutionary writer. Nevertheless, the hero of Los de abajo, Demetrio Macias, is the most exact replica of that general of the revolution that appears after Madero's death: a general without ideals, without culture, fighting for personal ambition; a general who dies without leaving a trace in the history or in the soul of his country. The long gallery of popular types which parades through this novel reflects the ignorance, the cruelty, the ambitions of many army men, who by a whim of fortune, became political leaders. The Mexican sociologist Jess Silva Herzog makes the follow- ing comments on Los de abajo, recognizing its documentary and realistic value: The Mexican revolution, outside of a few political ideas, did not have a previous ideology, an economic and social program. The ideology of the revolution developed slowly, along with the heat of battles, the fire of civic struggle, and the unleashing of popular passions. Here we have the novel of Mariano Azuela which paints with exactitude the revolutionary landscape, a novel which teachers to remote Indian villages; he called the great muralists to decorate government buildings; he encouraged young composers and writers. In short, Vasconcelos is the soul of the educational, intellectual, and artistic life of his generation. In the meantime, literature goes through a process of change. Two great poets transform and give new vigor to poetry. Enrique Gonzilez Martinez gives to it new depth and thought; Ram6n L6pez Velarde enriches it with provincial themes, and finally, in his definitive poem, Suave Patria, gives us a masterful interpreta- tion of the greatness and beauty of his homeland. The revolutionary novel becomes a mirror where one can see that complex and chaotic world which is contemporary Mexican society. Plastic and literary forms become symbols and to the brutal scenes of a fatal reality correspond the tragic scenes of Rivera's and Orozco's pic- tures and the dramatic novels of M. Azuela, Martin Luis GuzmAn and Gregorio Lopez y Fuentes. The whole process of the revolution is portrayed in the novel. In Los de abajo (1916) we find the failure of those ideals of reform and justice which were the core of Madero's philosophy. Azuela sees the revolution without a partisan attitude, such as it is in its bitter reality, and this is why many of his critics say that he is not an authentic revolutionary writer. Nevertheless, the hero of Los de abajo, Demetrio Macias, is the most exact replica of that general of the revolution that appears after Madero's death: a general without ideals, without culture, fighting for personal ambition; a general who dies without leaving a trace in the history or in the soul of his country. The long gallery of popular types which parades through this novel reflects the ignorance, the cruelty, the ambitions of many army men, who by a whim of fortune, became political leaders. The Mexican sociologist Jesus Silva Herzog makes the follow- ing comments on Los de abajo, recognizing its documentary and realistic value: The Mexican revolution, outside of a few political ideas, did not have a previous ideology, an economic and social program. The ideology of the revolution developed slowly, along with the heat of battles, the fire of civic struggle, and the unleashing of popular passions. Here we have the novel of Mariano Azuela which paints with exactitude the revolutionary landscape, a novel which teachers to remote Indian villages; he called the great muralists to decorate government buildings; he encouraged young composers and writers. In short, Vasconcelos is the soul of the educational, intellectual, and artistic life of his generation. In the meantime, literature goes through a process of change. Two great poets transform and give new vigor to poetry. Enrique Gonzalez Martinez gives to it new depth and thought; Ram6n L6pez Velarde enriches it with provincial themes, and finally, in his definitive poem, Suave Patria, gives us a masterful interpreta- tion of the greatness and beauty of his homeland. The revolutionary novel becomes a mirror where one can see that complex and chaotic world which is contemporary Mexican society. Plastic and literary forms become symbols and to the brutal scenes of a fatal reality correspond the tragic scenes of Rivera's and Orozco's pic- tures and the dramatic novels of M. Azuela, Martin Luis Guzmin and Gregorio L6pez y Fuentes. The whole process of the revolution is portrayed in the novel. In Los de abajo (1916) we find the failure of those ideals of reform and justice which were the core of Madero's philosophy. Azuela sees the revolution without a partisan attitude, such as it is in its bitter reality, and this is why many of his critics say that he is not an authentic revolutionary writer. Nevertheless, the hero of Los de abajo, Demetrio Macias, is the most exact replica of that general of the revolution that appears after Madero's death: a general without ideals, without culture, fighting for personal ambition; a general who dies without leaving a trace in the history or in the soul of his country. The long gallery of popular types which parades through this novel reflects the ignorance, the cruelty, the ambitions of many army men, who by a whim of fortune, became political leaders. The Mexican sociologist Jesns Silva Herzog makes the follow- ing comments on Los de abajo, recognizing its documentary and realistic value: The Mexican revolution, outside of a few political ideas, did not have a previous ideology, an economic and social program. The ideology of the revolution developed slowly, along with the heat of battles, the fire of civic struggle, and the unleashing of popular passions. Here we have the novel of Mariano Azuela which paints with exactitude the revolutionary landscape, a novel which  140 The Caribbean 140 The Caribbean 140 The Caribbean is at the same time a work of art and a real and convincing his- torical document. Azuela did not mean to write a revolutionary novel; this genre was not in vogue then. Its merit consists in the fact that Azuela wrote what he saw and as he saw it, and relates the impressions left in his spirit by the war.t The evolution of the revolutionary movement is so well defined in Los de abajo that I cannot resist the temptation of quoting again a few lines of Sefior Silva Herzog's article which explain the process of the revolution and which can be applied to Azuela's novel: ... The war assumed the form of a class struggle and became radical and bloody. At bottom it was the struggle of the poor against the rich, of the "haves and the havenots," of the proletariat against the bourgeoisie, the church and the landowners. The socializing philosophy of the revolution, nebulous at the beginning, did not have its origin in the minds of the leaders but in the suffering of the hungry and abandoned masses. Perhaps we should make an exception of the Zapata rebellion, since from its very beginning this movement had a perfectly clear ideal, an ideal which its leaders summed up in two words: land and liberty.2 This class struggle gives meaning and color to The Underdogs, and the theory that the socializing thought did not have its origin in the minds of the leaders is conclusively proved in the com- parison that Macias, hero of The Underdogs, makes between the revolution and a stone thrown from the top of a mountain: the human hand gave the impulse, but soon the stone keeps on rolling by its own momentum. The crisis of the Mexican Revolution studied by Silva Herzog in his essay (lack of ideological orientation, lack of honesty of the leaders, too much politics) can be observed in the moral turpitude of the first leaders of the revolution as they appear in the novel of Martin Luis Guzman entitled The Eagle and the Serpent (1928), which is a living document of the early years of the revolt. The novel consists of a series of brutal deeds and a description of his- torical characters, among whom the most prominent are Carranza, Villa, Angeles, and Obreg6n. It would be useless to try to find in this novel a definite ideal of moral conduct or a serious belief in 1 Cuadernos americanos, 5 (Sept.-Oct., 1943). 2 Ibid. is at the same time a work of art and a real and convincing his- torical document. Azuela did not mean to write a revolutionary novel; this genre was not in vogue then. Its merit consists in the fact that Azuela wrote what he saw and as he saw it, and relates the impressions left in his spirit by the war.' The evolution of the evolutionary movement is so well defined in Los de abajo that I cannot resist the temptation of quoting again a few lines of Sefinor Silva Herzog's article which explain the process of the revolution and which can be applied to Azuela's novel: ... The war assumed the form of a class struggle and became radical and bloody. At bottom it was the struggle of the poor against the rich, of the "haves and the havenots," of the proletariat against the bourgeoisie, the church and the landowners. The socializing philosophy of the revolution, nebulous at the beginning, did not have its origin in the minds of the leaders but in the suffering of the hungry and abandoned masses. Perhaps we should make an exception of the Zapata rebellion, since from its very beginning this movement had a perfectly clear ideal, an ideal which its leaders summed up in two words: land and liberty5 This class struggle gives meaning and color to The Underdogs, and the theory that the socializing thought did not have its origin in the minds of the leaders is conclusively proved in the com- parison that Macias, hero of The Underdogs, makes between the revolution and a stone thrown from the top of a mountain: the human hand gave the impulse, but soon the stone keeps on rolling by its own momentum. The crisis of the Mexican Revolution studied by Silva Herzog in his essay (lack of ideological orientation, lack of honesty of the leaders, too much politics) can be observed in the moral turpitude of the first leaders of the revolution as they appear in the novel of Martin Luis Guzman entitled The Eagle and the Serpent (1928), which is a living document of the early years of the revolt. The novel consists of a series of brutal deeds and a description of his- torical characters, among whom the most prominent are Carranza, Villa, Angeles, and Obregdn. It would be useless to try to find in this novel a definite ideal of moral conduct or a serious belief in 1 Cuadernos americanos, 5 (Sept.-Oct., 1943). 2 Ibid. is at the same time a work of art and a real and convincing his- torical document. Azuela did not mean to write a revolutionary novel; this genre was not in vogue then. Its merit consists in the fact that Azuela wrote what he saw and as he saw it, and relates the impressions left in his spirit by the war.' The evolution of the revolutionary movement is so well defined in Los de abajo that I cannot resist the temptation of quoting again a few lines of Sefior Silva Herzog's article which explain the process of the revolution and which can be applied to Azuela's novel: ... The war assumed the form of a class struggle and became radical and bloody. At bottom it was the struggle of the poor against the rich, of the "haves and the havenots," of the proletariat against the bourgeoisie, the churth and the landowners. The socializing philosophy of the revolution, nebulous at the beginning, did not have its origin in the minds of the leader but in the suffering of the hungry and abandoned masses. Perhaps we should make an exception of the Zapata rebellion, since from its very beginning this movement had a perfectly clear ideal, an ideal which its leaders summed up in two words: land and liberty2 This class struggle gives meaning and color to The Underdogs, and the theory that the socializing thought did not have its origin in the minds of the leaders is conclusively proved in the com- parison that Macias, hero of The Underdogs, makes between the revolution and a stone thrown from the top of a mountain: the human hand gave the impulse, but soon the stone keeps on rolling by its own momentum. The crisis of the Mexican Revolution studied by Silva Herzog in his essay (lack of ideological orientation, lack of honesty of the leaders, too much politics) can be observed in the moral turpitude of the first leaders of the revolution as they appear in the novel of Martin Luis Guzman entitled The Eagle and the Serpent (1928), which is a living document of the early years of the revolt. The novel consists of a series of brutal deeds and a description of his- torical characters, among whom the most prominent are Carranza, Villa, Angeles, and Obregon. It would be useless to try to find in this novel a definite ideal of moral conduct or a serious belief in 1 Cuadernos americanos, 5 (Sept.-Oct., 1943). 2 Ibid.  CULTURE 141 CULTURE 141 CULTURE 141 social reform. On the contrary, we find in every chapter the bru- tality of the generals, the utter ignorance of the soldiers, bossism, arbitrary actions, disrespect for the most elementary laws. There is a moment, just before 1915, in which all the leaders are hope- lessly inadequate. Guzman describes this situation in the following words: Under the leadership of Carranza the Revolution went straight toward dictatorship. Carranza dreamt of the fantastic possibility of being a second Porfirio Diaz.... Nobody could imagine Villa as the leader of a reform movement, since even considered as a "brutal force," he had so many defects that his contact implied more dangers than the most inflammable explosive. Obregdn, that great winner of battles, also was threatening to become a "caudillo." (Villismo y Carrancismo.) These are the supreme chieftains of the revolution, and Guzmin sees them such as they are. Therefore, his attitude is frankly pes- simistic. In his novel The Shadow of the Caudillo (1929) Guzmin accuses Obreg6n and Calles of electoral intervention and points them out as the real murderers of Gmez and Serrano, the two re- bellious generals. Guzmin is one of those intellectuals for whom the revolution should have been something different: a morally articulated structure, a patriotic undertaking. He has faith in the salvation of an oppressed and hungry people. Guzmin, like Vasconcelos, represents the evolution of that political thinking of Mexico which finds its final expression in the government of Lizaro Cirdenas. Of all the novelists of the revolution the one who knows best the rural people, their habits, language, and psychology is Gregorio Ldpez y Fuentes. In his most famous books, Campamento (1931), Land (1932), and The Indian (1935), he presents vivid pictures of the revolution and philosophizes about its meaning. The themes of his novels are the basic points of the revolutionary movement, namely: (a) distribution of land, called in Mexico the ejido ques- tion, and the nationalization of the subsoil; (b) separation of the Church from politics; (c) dignifying of the Indian through liberty and education; and (d) limitation of the power and influence of foreigners. The Indian is his masterpiece. The book consists of a succession of scenes of Indian life in a mountain village. The rural school- social reform. On the contrary, we find in every chapter the bru- tality of the generals, the utter ignorance of the soldiers, bossism, arbitrary actions, disrespect for the most elementary laws. There is a moment, just before 1915, in which all the leaders are hope- lessly inadequate. Guzmin describes this situation in the following words: Under the leadership of Carranza the Revolution went straight toward dictatorship. Carranza dreamt of the fantastic possibility of being a second Porfirio Diaz.. . . Nobody could imagine Villa as the leader of a eform movement, since even considered as a "brutal force," he had so many defects that his contact implied more dangers than the most inflammable explosive. Obreg6n, that great winner of battles, also was threatening to become a "caudillo." (Villismo y Carrancismo.) These are the supreme chieftains of the revolution, and Guzmkn sees them such as they are. Therefore, his attitude is frankly pes- simistic. In his novel The Shadow of the Caudillo (1929) Guzmin accuses Obreg6n and Calles of electoral intervention and points them out as the real murderers of Gomez and Serrano, the two re- bellious generals. Guzmin is one of those intellectuals for whom the revolution should have been something different: a morally articulated structure, a patriotic undertaking. He has faith in the salvation of an oppressed and hungry people. Guzman, like Vasconcelos, represents the evolution of that political thinking of Mexico which finds its final expression in the government of Lizaro Cirdenas. Of all the novelists of the revolution the one who knows best the rural people, their habits, language, and psychology is Gregorio Ltpez y Fuentes. In his most famous books, Campamento (1931), Land (1932), and The Indian (1935), he presents vivid pictures of the revolution and philosophizes about its meaning. The themes of his novels are the basic points of the revolutionary movement, namely: (a) distribution of land, called in Mexico the ejido ques- tion, and the nationalization of the subsoil; (b) separation of the Church from politics; (c) dignifying of the Indian through liberty and education; and (d) limitation of the power and influence of foreigners. The Indian is his masterpiece. The book consists of a succession of scenes of Indian life in a mountain village. The rural school- social reform. On the contrary, we find in every chapter the bru- tality of the generals, the utter ignorance of the soldiers, bossism, arbitrary actions, disrespect for the most elementary laws. There is a moment, just before 1915, in which all the leaders are hope- lessly inadequate. Guzmin describes this situation in the following words: Under the leadership of Carranza the Revolution went straight toward dictatorship. Carranza dreamt of the fantastic possibility of being a second Porfirio Diaz.... Nobody could imagine Villa as the leader of a reform movement, since even considered as a "brutal force," he had so many defects that his contact implied more dangers than the most inflammable explosive. Obregan, that great winner of battles, also was threatening to become a "caudillo." (Villismo y Carrancismo.) These are the supreme chieftains of the revolution, and Guzmin sees them such as they are. Therefore, his attitude is frankly pes- simistic. In his novel The Shadow of the Caudillo (1929) Guzmin accuses Obreg6n and Calles of electoral intervention and points them out as the real murderers of Gimez and Serrano, the two re- bellious generals. Guzmin is one of those intellectuals for whom the revolution should have been something different: a morally articulated structure, a patriotic undertaking. He has faith in the salvation of an oppressed and hungry people. Guzmin, like Vasconcelos, represents the evolution of that political thinking of Mexico which finds its final expression in the government of Lizaro Cirdenas. Of all the novelists of the revolution the one who knows best the rural people, their habits, language, and psychology is Gregorio Ltpez y Fuentes. In his most famous books, Campamento (1931), Land (1932), and The Indian (1935), he presents vivid pictures of the revolution and philosophizes about its meaning. The themes of his novels are the basic points of the revolutionary movement, namely: (a) distribution of land, called in Mexico the ejido ques- tion, and the nationalization of the subsoil; (b) separation of the Church from politics; (c) dignifying of the Indian through liberty and education; and (d) limitation of the power and influence of foreigners. The Indian is his masterpiece. The book consists of a succession of scenes of Indian life in a mountain village. The rural school-  142 The Caribbean 142 The Caribbean 142 The Caribbean teacher appears for the first time as the hero of a novel. He is a modern teacher with new ideas on educational reform, agricul- tural improvement, the building of roads, and laws fair to the Indian. Here we witness an obvious evolution in the process of dealing with social, racial, and political matters. The schoolteacher is more interested in economic and social changes than in cold classroom discipline. Here is a picture of the master in front of his class: The teacher, upon preparing his lessons, thought rather about planning his social program. The Indians had told him that the custom of forced labor was still in use, although it had been legally abolished; it was necessary, then, to denounce this abuse, even at the risk of antagonizing the village authorities. The Indians told him that the lands they had received had not improved their economic situation, because they had no tools with which to cultivate them, and because, being forced to work for the bosses, they had no time to work their own land. The teacher felt that he had to obtain loans and subsidies, so that the Indian farmers would not fall into the clutches of speculators accustomed to buy- ing the crops before they are harvested. They needed tools and instructors to teach them new agricultural methods. The Indians told him that often they had to give away their products, which they could not sell because of the lack of means of transportation. The teacher thought it necessary to have a road-not like the one the authorities had built in the valley, to connect God knows what remote places, along which the Indian travels on foot, swallowing the dust raised by the car-but a road that would serve the tribes, isolated now by their old racial fear.s As we see, we are dealing with a question in which it is indis- pensable to have economic reform to satisfy a revolutionary code. The authorities must protect the native farmer, and all forms of duress and exploitation must end. Only thus will dignified work regenerate the Indian. Work is then the solution of the great agrarian problem of Mexico; work and not chance or good luck, as many farmers believe. To prove this point Ldpez y Fuentes wrote his novel, Huasteca, in which he tells us of the rise and fall of a rural family on whose lands oil was found. Determining fac- tors in the sad adventure of this family are chance, the lack of 3 El Indio (Norton & Co.), pp. 154-155. teacher appears for the first time as the hero of a novel. He is a modern teacher with new ideas on educational reform, agricul- tural improvement, the building of roads, and laws fair to the Indian. Here we witness an obvious evolution in the process of dealing with social, racial, and political matters. The schoolteacher is more interested in economic and social changes than in cold classroom discipline. Here is a picture of the master in front of his class: The teacher, upon preparing his lessons, thought rather about planning his social program. The Indians had told him that the custom of forced labor was still in use, although it had been legally abolished; it was necessary, then, to denounce this abuse, even at the risk of antagonizing the village authorities. The Indians told him that the lands they had received had not improved their economic situation, because they had no tools with which to cultivate them, and because, being forced to work for the bosses, they had no time to work their own land. The teacher felt that he had to obtain loans and subsidies, so that the Indian farmers would not fall into the clutches of speculators accustomed to buy- ing the crops before they are harvested. They needed tools and instructors to teach them new agricultural methods. The Indians told him that often they had to give away their products, which they could not sell because of the lack of means of transportation. The teacher thought it necessary to have a road-not like the one the authorities had built in the valley, to connect God knows what remote places, along which the Indian travels on foot, swallowing the dust raised by the car-but a road that would seer the tribes, isolated now by their old racial fear.s As we see, we are dealing with a question in which it is indis- pensable to have economic reform to satisfy a revolutionary code. The authorities must protect the native farmer, and all forms of duress and exploitation must end. Only thus will dignified work regenerate the Indian. Work is then the solution of the groat agrarian problem of Mexico; work and not chance or good luck, as many farmers believe. To prove this point Lpez y Fuentes wrote his novel, Huasteca, in which he tells us of the rise and fall of a rural family on whose lands oil was found. Determining fac- tors in the sad adventure of this family are chance, the lack of 3 El Indio (Norton & Co.), pp. 154-155. teacher appears for the first time as the hero of a novel. He is a modern teacher with new ideas on educational reform, agricul- tural improvement, the building of roads, and laws fair to the Indian. Here we witness an obvious evolution in the process of dealing with social, racial, and political matters. The schoolteacher is more interested in economic and social changes than in cold classroom discipline. Here is a picture of the master in front of his class: The teacher, upon preparing his lessons, thought rather about planning his social program. The Indians had told him that the custom of forced labor was still in use, although it had been legally abolished; it was necessary, then, to denounce this abuse, even at the risk of antagonizing the village authorities. The Indians told him that the lands they had received had not improved their economic situation, because they had no tools with which to cultivate them, and because, being forced to work for the bosses, they had no time to work their own land. The teacher felt that he had to obtain loans and subsidies, so that the Indian farmers would not fall into the clutches of speculators accustomed to buy- ing the crops before they are harvested. They needed tools and instructors to teach them new agricultural methods. The Indians told him that often they had to give away their products, which they could not sell because of the lack of means of transportation. The teacher thought it necessary to have a road-not like the one the authorities had built in the valley, to connect God knows what remote places, along which the Indian travels on foot, swallowing the dust raised by the car-but a road that would serve the tribes, isolated now by their old racial fear s As we see, we are dealing with a question in which it is indis- pensable to have economic reform to satisfy a revolutionary code. The authorities must protect the native farmer, and all forms of duress and exploitation must end. Only thus will dignified work regenerate the Indian. Work is then the solution of the great agrarian problem of Mexico; work and not chance or good luck, as many farmers believe. To prove this point Lopez y Fuentes wrote his novel, Huasteca, in which he tells us of the rise and fall of a rural family on whose lands oil was found. Determining fac- tors in the sad adventure of this family are chance, the lack of 8 El Indio (Norton & Co.), pp. 154-155.  CULTURE 143 CULTURE 143 CULTURE foresight of the Mexican, his spirit of ostentation, his lack of character in the face of economic failure, and last but not least, the influence of foreign companies. In his novel, Land (Tierra), dealing with the uprising of Zapata and with the assassination of this hem, we find, along with the dramatic thread of the story, many opinions on agrarian policies. Zapata is not only the great general who beats the federal armies, but also the apostle who fights for the division of the land among the Indians. The social zeal of L6pez y Fuentes is so intense that at times he forgets he is writing a novel, as when he quotes, for example, "the law of the sixth of January," a legal document that establishes the division of the land. We often find in this novel paragraphs like the following: How about the lands? Shall they continue in the hands of the rich? Shall we continue being slaves of the landholders? We shall continue to fight until we recover the lands they have taken from us.4 The moral and didactic purpose of these novels is sometimes so obvious that we think we are listening to a schoolteacher, or to a preacher addressing his neophytes to show them how to avoid falling into vice and error. Such is the case of My General (1934) and Huasteca. Nevertheless, there are some literary critics who see in other works of L6pez y Fuentes the most successful approach to the theme of the regeneration of the Indian in America. Thus Fernando Alegria writes: It is possible that the novel which synthesizes in epic and artistic form the complex drama of the American Indian has not been written. However, I like to think that L6pez y Fuentes and Icaza are the best authors of an Indianist novel which tries to go beyond the concrete details of reality to embrace in vigorous symbols the universal meaning of the drama of the American Indian. L6pez y Fuentes seeks in his novel, The Immovable Pilgrims (Los peregrinos inmdviles), the metaphysical roots of the conflict which divides the Mexican people; he seeks the religious and magic origin of a race with two heads that insists, nevertheless, in remaining united, wounding itself, bleeding and exploited, but wonderfully insistent and dynamic. 4 Tierra, ed. Mexico, 85. foresight of the Mexican, his spirit of ostentation, his lack of character in the face of economic failure, and last but not least, the influence of foreign companies. In his novel, Land (Tierra), dealing with the uprising of Zapata and with the assassination of this hero, we find, along with the dramatic thread of the story, many opinions on agrarian policies. Zapata is not only the great general who beats the federal armies, but also the apostle who fights for the division of the land among the Indians. The social zeal of L6pez y Fuentes is so intense that at times he forgets he is writing a novel, as when he quotes, for example, "the law of the sixth of January," a legal document that establishes the division of the land. We often find in this novel paragraphs like the following: How about the lands? Shall they continue in the hands of the rich? Shall we continue being slaves of the landholders? We shall continue to fight until we recover the lands they have taken from us.4 The moral and didactic purpose of these novels is sometimes so obvious that we think we are listening to a schoolteacher, or to a preacher addressing his neophytes to show them how to avoid falling into vice and error. Such is the case of My General (1934) and Huasteca. Nevertheless, there are some literary critics who see in other works of L6pez y Fuentes the most successful approach to the theme of the regeneration of the Indian in America. Thus Fernando Alegria writes: It is possible that the novel which synthesizes in epic and artistic form the complex drama of the American Indian has not been written. However, I like to think that L6pez y Fuentes and Icaza are the best authors of an Indianist novel which tries to go beyond the concrete details of reality to embrace in vigorous symbols the universal meaning of the drama of the American Indian. Ldpez y Fuentes seeks in his novel, The Immovable Pilgrims (Los peregrinos inmdviles), the metaphysical roots of the conflict which divides the Mexican people; he seeks the religious and magik origin of a race with two heads that insists, nevertheless, in remaining united, wounding itself, bleeding and exploited, but wonderfully insistent and dynamic. 4 Tierra, ed. Mexico, 85. foresight of the Mexican, his spirit of ostentation, his lack of character in the face of economic failure, and last but not least, the influence of foreign companies. In his novel, Land (Tierra), dealing with the uprising of Zapata and with the assassination of this hero, we find, along with the dramatic thread of the story, many opinions on agrarian policies. Zapata is not only the great general who beats the federal armies, but also the apostle who fights for the division of the land among the Indians. The social zeal of L6pez y Fuentes is so intense that at times he forgets he is writing a novel, as when he quotes, for example, "the law of the sixth of January," a legal document that establishes the division of the land. We often find in this novel paragraphs like the following: How about the lands? Shall they continue in the hands of the rich? Shall we continue being slaves of the landholders? We shall continue to fight until we recover the lands they have taken from us.4 The moral and didactic purpose of these novels is sometimes so obvious that we think we are listening to a schoolteacher, or to a preacher addressing his neophytes to show them how to avoid falling into vice and error. Such is the case of My General (1934) and Huasteca. Nevertheless, there are some literary critics who see in other works of L6pez y Fuentes the most successful approach to the theme of the regeneration of the Indian in America. Thus Fernando Alegria writes: It is possible that the novel which synthesizes in epic and artistic form the complex drama of the American Indian has not been written. However, I like to think that L6pez y Fuentes and Icaza are the best authors of an Indianist novel which tries to go beyond the concrete details of reality to embrace in vigorous symbols the universal meaning of the drama of the American Indian. L6pez y Fuentes seeks in his novel, The Immovable Pilgrims (Los peregrinos inmoviles), the metaphysical roots of the conflict which divides the Mexican people; he seeks the religious and magic origin of a race with two heads that insists, nevertheless, in remaining united, wounding itself, bleeding and exploited, but wonderfully insistent and dynamic. 4 Tierra, ed. Mexico, 85.  144 The Caribbean Ruben Romero, another novelist of this period, has occasionally a mystic conception of the revolution. One of his characters says: The Revolution is a noble desire to rise, and I shall rise; it is the hope of a fairer life, and I believe in it. Today more than yesterday I feel that I belong to the Revolution, because I became poor again all of a sudden. The Revolution, like God, destroys and creates, and we seek it, as we seek God, only when sorrow afflicts us. But, in spite of this desire to rise, there is an excess of violence, brutality, and injustice in his revolutionary world. Often, after having shown the courage and nobility of the people, Romero ends his story with an episode in which it is evident that all has been lost, and that bossism appears again, fed by the blood of the heroes. The Mexican critic Rafael M6noz, writing on Romero's work, asks this question: Where is the great novel of the writers of the Revolution? Where is the work of art which presents with clearness, good style and good taste, the origins, development, failures, and successes of the Revolution? Where is, in short, the novel which contains a synthesis, the soul of the Revolution?s He himself gives the answer: In reality there isn't such a novel, among other reasons because nobody has tried to write it. The Revolution has covered such an extensive area, is so deep in its origin, so varied in its appearances, so long in duration, so complex in its problems, that it is not pos- sible, within the modern technique of the novel, to write a work of art which might contain all that can be said of the Revolution.6 It is only right to think like Rafael M65oz on reading the novels of Jose Rubdn Romero: Desertion (Desbandada, 1934), The Inno- cent Town (1934), My Horse, My Dog and My Rifle (1936); it is right to think this way, for it seems that Romero should have been the author of the interpretative novel of the revolution. Ro- mero masters a genuinely popular style derived from the spoken language; he has a rich repertoire of anecdotes about people and events; he kno-vs well provincial customs and the psychology of the 5 Homenaje a Rubin Romero (Lear, Mexico, 1937), p. 18. 6 Ibid. 144 The Caribbean Ruben Romero, another novelist of this period, has occasionally a mystic conception of the revolution. One of his characters says: The Revolution is a noble desire to rise, and I shall rise; it is the hope of a fairer life, and I believe in it. Today more than yesterday I feel that I belong to the Revolution, because I became poor again all of a sudden. The Revolution, like God, destroys and creates, and we seek it, as we seek God, only when sorrow afflicts us. But, in spite of this desire to rise, there is an excess of violence, brutality, and injustice in his revolutionary world. Often, after having shown the courage and nobility of the people, Romero ends his story with an episode in which it is evident that all has been lost, and that bossism appears again, fed by the blood of the heroes. The Mexican critic Rafael Muoz, writing on Romero's work, asks this question: Where is the great novel of the writers of the Revolution? Where is the work of art which presents with clearness, good style and good taste, the origins, development, failures, and successes of the Revolution? Where is, in short, the novel which contains a synthesis, the soul of the Revolution?5 He himself gives the answer: In reality there isn't such a novel, among other reasons because nobody has tried to write it. The Revolution has covered such an extensive area, is so deep in its origin, so varied in its appearances, so long in duration, so complex in its problems, that it is not pos- sible, within the modern technique of the novel, to write a work of art which might contain all that can be said of the Revolution.s It is only right to think like Rafael Mnnoz on reading the novels of Jos6 Rubdn Romero: Desertion (Desbandada, 1934), The Inno- cent Town (1934), My Horse, My Dog and My Rifle (1936); it is right to think this way, for it seems that Romero should have been the author of the interpretative novel of the revolution. Ro- mero masters a genuinely popular style derived from the spoken language; he has a rich repertoire of anecdotes about people and events; he knows well provincial customs and the psychology of the 5 Homenaje a Rubin Romero (Lear, Mexico, 1937), p. 18. 6 Ibid. 144 The Caribbean Rubdn Romero, another novelist of this period, has occasionally a mystic conception of the revolution. One of his characters says: The Revolution is a noble desire to rise, and I shall rise; it is the hope of a fairer life, and I believe in it. Today more than yesterday I feel that I belong to the Revolution, because I became poor again all of a sudden. The Revolution, like God, destroys and creates, and we seek it, as we seek God, only when sorrow afflicts us. But, in spite of this desire to rise, there is an excess of violence, brutality, and injustice in his revolutionary world. Often, after having shown the courage and nobility of the people, Romero ends his story with an episode in which it is evident that all has been lost, and that bossism appears again, fed by the blood of the heroes. The Mexican critic Rafael M65oz, writing on Romero's work, asks this question: Where is the great novel of the writers of the Revolution? Where is the work of art which presents with clearness, good style and good taste, the origins, development, failures, and successes of the Revolution? Where is, in short, the novel which contains a synthesis, the soul of the Revolution?5 He himself gives the answer: In reality there isn't such a novel, among other reasons because nobody has tried to write it. The Revolution has covered such an extensive area, is so deep in its origin, so varied in its appearances, so long in duration, so complex in its problems, that it is not pos- sible, within the modern technique of the novel, to write a work of art which might contain all that can be said of the Revolution.6 It is only right to think like Rafael M65oz on reading the novels of Jos6 Ruben Romero: Desertion (Desbandada, 1934), The Inno- cent Town (1934), My Horse, My Dog and My Rifle (1936); it is right to think this way, for it seems that Romero should have been the author of the interpretative novel of the revolution. Ro- mero masters a genuinely popular style derived from the spoken language; he has a rich repertoire of anecdotes about people and events; he kno-vs well provincial customs and the psychology of the SHomenaje a Rubidn Romero (Lear, Mexico, 1937), p. 18. 6 Ibid.  CULTURE 145 CULTURE 145 CULTURE people; and finally, he himself took part in the revolution. And yet, Romero has not written the representative work of this cycle. Why? According to my way of thinking, Romero lacks conviction. He is too skeptical and flighty; his constant humor usually is only in- difference and cynicism. Perhaps we should make an exception in the case of his novel, The Useless Life of Pito Pirez (1938). Here, the central character, Pito Pdrez, is a synthesis of the tormented soul of the Mexican people. It is interesting to notice that, at a distance of one hundred years, Ruben Romero coincides in his aesthetic manner and psy- chological interpretation with Fernindez de Lizardi, on creating the hero of a picaresque novel who expresses in sensibility and actions both the best and worst of the Mexican. In The Useless Life of Pito Pirez we find what we may call the tragedy of the revolution. The life of Pito Perez is the symbol of a nation which has not fulfilled its destiny and which drifts without ideals or ambitions, oppressed by the bosses, haunted by the police, until one day, like Pito, it falls dead on a heap of rubbish and its ashes are scattered by the wind. One cannot help thinking that Romero had the Mexican people in mind when he wrote Pito's testament: To the poor I leave my contempt because of their cowardice, because they do not rise and take possession of everything in an impulse of supreme justice. Miserable slaves of a church which preaches resignation and of a government which demands sub- mission, without giving them a thing in exchange.s The Mexican people are not bad, but nobody has ever recognized their courage and their dignity. Pito Perez knows this: "I never had faith in anybody; I never respected anybody. Why? Because nobody had faith in me, because nobody respected me." The people of Mexico, like those of all the countries of Latin America, lived for a whole century under the spell of that Messianic formula imported from France: "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity." But one day these people awoke and realized their mistake. Let us listen again to Pito Perez: 7 La rida intil de Pito Pirez (Mexico, 1938), p. 225. people; and finally, he himself took part in the revolution. And yet, Romero has not written the representative work of this cycle. Why? According to my way of thinking, Romero lacks conviction. He is too skeptical and flighty; his constant humor usually is only in- difference and cynicism. Perhaps we should make an exception in the case of his novel, The Useless Life of Pito Pirez (1938). Here, the central character, Pito Perez, is a synthesis of the tormented soul of the Mexican people. It is interesting to notice that, at a distance of one hundred years, Rubin Romero coincides in his aesthetic manner and psy- chological interpretation with FernAndez de Lizardi, on creating the hero of a picaresque novel who expresses in sensibility and actions both the best and worst of the Mexican. In The Useless Life of Pito Pirez we find what we may call the tragedy of the revolution. The life of Pito Pirez is the symbol of a nation which has not fulfilled its destiny and which drifts without ideals or ambitions, oppressed by the bosses, haunted by the police, until one day, like Pito, it falls dead on a heap of rubbish and its ashes are scattered by the wind. One cannot help thinking that Romero had the Mexican people in mind when he wrote Pito's testament: To the poor I leave my contempt because of their cowardice, because they do not rise and take possession of everything in an impulse of supreme justice. Miserable slaves of a church which preaches resignation and of a government which demands sub- mission, without giving them a thing in exchange.' The Mexican people are not bad, but nobody has ever recognized their courage and their dignity. Pito Pirez knows this: "I never had faith in anybody; I never respected anybody. Why? Because nobody had faith in me, because nobody respected me." The people of Mexico, like those of all the countries of Latin America, lived for a whole century under the spell of that Messianic formula imported from France: "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity." But one day these people awoke and realized their mistake. Let us listen again to Pito Pirez: 7 La rida intil de Pito Pirez (Mexico, 1938), p. 225. people; and finally, he himself took part in the revolution. And yet, Romero has not written the reprsentative work of this cycle. Why? According to my way of thinking, Romern lacks conviction. He is too skeptical and flighty; his constant humor usually is only in- difference and cynicism. Perhaps we should make an exception in the case of his novel, The Useless Life of Pito Prez (1938). Here, the central character, Pito P6rez, is a synthesis of the tormented soul of the Mexican people. It is interesting to notice that, at a distance of one hundred years, Ruben Romero coincides in his aesthetic manner and psy- chological interpretation with Fernandez de Lizardi, on creating the hero of a picaresque novel who expresses in sensibility and actions boththe best and worst of the Mexican. In The Useless Life of Pito P/rez we find what we may call the tragedy of the revolution. The life of Pito Prez is the symbol of a nation which has not fulfilled its destiny and which drifts without ideals or ambitions, oppressed by the bosses, haunted by the police, until one day, like Pito, it falls dead on a heap of rubbish and its ashes are scattered by the wind. One cannot help thinking that Romero had the Mexican people in mind when he wrote Pito's testament: To the poor I leave my contempt because of their cowardice, because they do not rise and take possession of everything in an impulse of supreme justice. Miserable slaves of a church which preaches resignation and of a government which demands sub- mission, without giving them a thing in exchange.7 The Mexican people are not bad, but nobody has ever recognized their courage and their dignity. Pito Pirez knows this: "I never had faith in anybody; I never respected anybody. Why? Because nobody had faith in me, because nobody respected me." The people of Mexico, like those of all the countries of Latin America, lived for a whole century under the spell of that Messianic formula imported from France: "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity." But one day these people awoke and realized their mistake. Let us listen again to Pito Perez: La sida intil de Pito Pirez (Mexico, 1938), p. 225.  146 The Caribbean X Liberty, Equality, Fraternity! What a ridiculous farce! Liberty is killed by all those who have some authority; equality is destroyed by money, and fraternity dies at the hands of our egoism.' I do not know if the Mexicans heed this novelist who has so much intuition, but they ought to listen to him, because he knows the town life of his nation better than any other writer, and we must remember that the misery and poverty of urban and provincial life in Mexico are one of its main sources of unhappiness. The modern politician thinks that Mexico City is the nation and that the country has been saved because the Federal capital has mag- nificent hotels, prosperous banks, skyscrapers, monuments, thousands of motorcars, a population of three million. In Mexico we observe a characteristic Spanish American phenomenon: The nation has a huge head on a dwarfish body. If we transpose this lack of equilib- rium to the economic field we are sure that Mexico City is ruining the rest of the country. Must we remind the "politicos" that Mexico City was not the initial center of the revolution? The Useless Life of Pito Perez is a document of the moral and material misery of his country. After reading this novel, we are sure that the social and economic evolution of Mexico can be shown more convincingly in the legislation, the political theories, and the speeches of the sena- tors than in a trip of observation and study throughout its towns and rural districts. There are still other novelists of this period to whom the revolu- tion has been a great disappointment. Rafael Mnnoz, in his novel Let's Go Along with Pancho Villa (1931), shows an intimate knowl- edge of the psychology and heroic deeds of this general. We find in this work the same platitudes in the mouths of the peasants: justice, land, liberty, bread; but what impels these men to fight is the wor- ship of Pancho.Villa and a desire to avenge individual humiliations and suffering. There are two outstanding characteristics in this novel: first, a strong anti-American feeling, shown in the assault on the American border town of Columbus and the punitive expedition of General Pershing; and second, an exaltation of Mexicanism, ex- pressed in a feeling of loyalty to the leader, personal courage, and strength of character. There is a symbolic type in this book, Tiburcio Maya, a fanatical follower of Villa. The brutal general kills Maya's 8 Ibid., p. 225. 146 The Caribbean 146 The Caribbean X Liberty, Equality, Fraternity! What a ridiculous farce! Liberty is killed by all those who have some authority; equality is destroyed by money, and fraternity dies at the hands of our egoism.' I do not know if the Mexicans heed this novelist who has so much intuition, but they ought to listen to him, because he knows the town life of his nation better than any other writer, and we must remember that the misery and poverty of urban and provincial life in Mexico are one of its main sources of unhappiness. The modern politician thinks that Mexico City is the nation and that the country has been saved because the Federal capital has mag- nificent hotels, prosperous banks, skyscrapers, monuments, thousands of motorcars, a population of three million. In Mexico we observe a characteristic Spanish American phenomenon: The nation has a huge head on a dwarfish body. If we transpose this lack of equilib- rium to the economic field we are sure that Mexico City is ruining the rest of the country. Must we remind the "politicos" that Mexico City was not the initial center of the revolution? The Useless Life of Pito Pdrez is a document of the moral and material misery of his country. After reading this novel, we are sure that the social and economic evolution of Mexico can be shown more convincingly in the legislation, the political theories, and the speeches of the sena- tors than in a trip of observation and study throughout its towns and rural districts. There are still other novelists of this period to whom the revolu- tion has been a great disappointment. Rafael Mfoz, in his novel Let's Go Along with Pancho Villa (1931), shows an intimate knowl- edge of the psychology and heroic deeds of this general. We find in this work the same platitudes in the mouths of the peasants: justice, land, liberty, bread; but what impels these men to fight is the wor- ship of Pancho.Villa and a desire to avenge individual humiliations and suffering. There are two outstanding characteristics in this novel: first, a strong anti-American feeling, shown in the assault on the American border town of Columbus and the punitive expedition of General Pershing; and second, an exaltation of Mexicanism, ex- pressed in a feeling of loyalty to the leader, personal courage, and strength of character. There is a symbolic type in this book, Tiburcio Maya, a fanatical follower of Villa. The brutal general kills Maya's 8 Ibid., p. 225. X Liberty, Equality, Fraternity! What a ridiculous farce! Liberty is killed by all those who have some authority; equality is destroyed by money, and fraternity dies at the hands of our egoism.s I do not know if the Mexicans heed this novelist who has so much intuition, but they ought to listen to him, because he knows the town life of his nation better than any other writer, and we must remember that the misery and poverty of urban and provincial life in Mexico are one of its main sources of unhappiness. The modern politician thinks that Mexico City is the nation and that the country has been saved because the Federal capital has mag- nificent hotels, prosperous banks, skyscrapers, monuments, thousands of motorcars, a population of three million. In Mexico we observe a characteristic Spanish American phenomenon: The nation has a huge head on a dwarfish body. If we transpose this lack of equilib- rium to the economic field we are sure that Mexico City is ruining the rest of the country. Must we remind the "politicos" that Mexico City was not the initial center of the revolution? The Useless Life of Pito Pirez is a document of the moral and material misery of his country. After reading this novel, we are sure that the social and economic evolution of Mexico can be shown more convincingly in the legislation, the political theories, and the speeches of the sena- tors than in a trip of observation and study throughout its towns and rural districts. There are still other novelists of this period to whom the revolu- tion has been a great disappointment. Rafael Mnfioz, in his novel Let's Go Along with Pancho Villa (1931), shows an intimate knowl- edge of the psychology and heroic deeds of this general. We find in this work the same platitudes in the mouths of the peasants: justice, land, liberty, bread; but what impels these men to fight is the wor- ship of Pancho.Villa and a desire to avenge individual humiliations and suffering. There are two outstanding characteristics in this novel: first, a strong anti-American feeling, shown in the assault on the American border town of Columbus and the punitive expedition of General Pershing; and second, an exaltation of Mexicanism, ex- pressed in a feeling of loyalty to the leader, personal courage, and strength of character. There is a symbolic type in this book, Tiburcio Maya, a fanatical follower of Villa. The brutal general kills Maya's 8 Ibid., p. 225.  CULTURE 147 CULTURE 147 CULTURE wife and his only daughter, but the old man still follows him like a faithful dog. Finally he is taken prisoner by the Americans, who try to make him reveal Villa's hiding place. He suffers all kinds of tortures, he rejects an offer of fifty thousand dollars, and finally he is hanged from a tree, but he remains silent, without betraying his idol. III I have mentioned the names of the outstanding novelists of the revolutionary period. Now I shall deal with the writers of the post-revolutionary generation. In this group an interest in social problems is of paramount importance, while the picturesque and dramatic sense of the struggle loses ground. A few of these writers are political theorists for whom literature is only a propaganda tool. They use the novel as a loudspeaker to reach the masses and preach social revolution. Their ultimate purpose is to create a system of socialist government in Mexico. The best known writer of this group is Jose Mancisidor, author of Riotous Crowd (La Asonada, 1931), The Red City (La ciudad roja, 1932), Traverse Board (La rosa de los vientos, 1941). The most common episodes in these novels are labor toubles, strikes, police intervention, assassinations, brutality of the army, and in- justice on the part of the "patrones." Mancisidor sets down his ideals as a novelist when he writes in Riotous Crowd: If the reader, judging by the name of this work, thinks that he will find in it scenes of shooting, blood, and fire, he is mistaken. In these pages pregnant with truth, the characters move about without a noble ideal, without a definite aim, without a worthy con- ception of their own ambitions. They are all military men, men tossed up to positions of power by the waves of our Revolution, which, like many other Revolutions, ends by devouring its own children.0 Mancisidor tries to write documentary novels with the object of giving his readers an idea of the tragedy of Mexico. He accuses the generals of having betrayed their people: 9 Riotous Crowd, Introduction. wife and his only daughter, but the old man still follows him like a faithful dog. Finally he is taken prisoner by the Americans, who try to make him reveal Villa's hiding place. He suffers all kinds of tortures, he rejects an offer of fifty thousand dollars, and finally he is hanged from a tree, but he remains silent, without betraying his idol. III I have mentioned the names of the outstanding novelists of the revolutionary period. Now I shall deal with the writers of the post-revolutionary generation. In this group an interest in social problems is of paramount importance, while the picturesque and dramatic sense of the struggle loses ground. A few of these writers are political theorists for whom literature is only a propaganda tool. They use the novel as a loudspeaker to reach the masses and preach social revolution. Their ultimate purpose is to create a system of socialist government in Mexico. The best known writer of this group is Jose Mancisidor, author of Riotous Crowd (La Asonada, 1931), The Red City (La ciudad roja, 1932), Traverse Board (La rosa de los vientos, 1941). The most common episodes in these novels are labor troubles, strikes, police intervention, assassinations, brutality of the army, and in- justice on the part of the "patrones." Mancisidor sets down his ideals as a novelist when he writes in Riotous Crowd: If the reader, judging by the name of this work, thinks that he will find in it scenes of shooting, blood, and fire, he is mistaken. In these pages pregnant with truth, the characters move about without a noble ideal, without a definite aim, without a worthy con- ception of their own ambitions. They are all military men, men tossed up to positions of power by the waves of our Revolution, which, like many other Revolutions, ends by devouring its own children.0 Mancisidor tries to write documentary novels with the object of giving his readers an idea of the tragedy of Mexico. He accuses the generals of having betrayed their people: 9 Riotous Crowd, Introduction. wife and his only daughter, but the old man still follows him like a faithful dog. Finally he is taken prisoner by the Americans, who try to make him reveal Villa's hiding place. He suffers all kinds of tortures, he rejects an offer of fifty thousand dollars, and finally he is hanged from a tree, but he remains silent, without betraying his idol. III I have mentioned the names of the outstanding novelists of the revolutionary period. Now I shall deal with the writers of the post-revolutionary generation. In this group an interest in social problems is of paramount importance, while the picturesque and dramatic sense of the struggle loses ground. A few of these writers are political theorists for whom literature is only a propaganda tool. They use the novel as a loudspeaker to reach the masses and preach social revolution. Their ultimate purpose is to create a system of socialist government in Mexico. The best known writer of this group is Jose Mancisidor, author of Riotous Crowd (La Asonada, 1931), The Red City (La ciudad roja, 1932), Traverse Board (La rosa de los vientos, 1941). The most common episodes in these novels are labor troubles, strikes, police intervention, assassinations, brutality of the army, and in- justice on the part of the "patrones." Mancisidor sets down his ideals as a novelist when he writes in Riotous Crowd: If the reader, judging by the name of this work, thinks that he will find in it scenes of shooting, blood, and fire, he is mistaken. In these pages pregnant with truth, the characters move about without a noble ideal, without a definite aim, without a worthy con- ception of their own ambitions. They are all military men, men tossed up to positions of power by the waves of our Revolution, which, like many other Revolutions, ends by devouring its own children.' Mancisidor tries to write documentary novels with the object of giving his readers an idea of the tragedy of Mexico. He accuses the generals of having betrayed their people: 9 Riotous Crowd, Introduction.  148 The Caribbean 148 The Caribbean 148 The Caribbean The generals of our army have been the greatest obstacle to the attainment of popular aspirations. The troops, the hungry soldiers, are the cannon fodder sacrificed so that the general may rise to power or fall in the swamp of his crooked ambitions.10 On this rotten social foundation Mancisidor wishes to build his golden city for crowds of people oppressed by the yoke of im- memorial traditions. Mancisidor is, then, a national writer who fol- lows a rather universal trend, combining in his novels the human experience of his land, with the broad political doctrines which are disturbing the world of today. I shall only mention here the works of three novelists who must be taken into consideration in a more detailed study of this literary cycle. They are Mauricio Magdaleno, with his books Campo Celis (1935), Splendor (El Resplandor, 1937), The Big Earth (La Tierra grande, 1949), Cornsilk (Cabello de elote, 1949) ; Jorge Ferretis, with Hot Land (Tierra caliente, 1935), The South Burns (El Sur quema, 1937), When D. Quijote Gets Fat (Cuando en- gorda el Quijote, 1937), Saint Automobile (San autom6vil, 1938), Men in the Storm (Hombres en tempestad, 1942), and Xavier Icaza, author of Panchito Chapopote (1928). I shall, however, study in a detailed manner two novels which to me represent the ripe product of the last literary crop of Mexico. They are Nayar (1941), by Miguel Angel Menndez, and El luto humano (1943), by Jos6 Revueltas. The action of Nayar takes place among the Cora Indians of Nayarit, in the high sierras near the Pacific. In spite of all efforts to conquer the Cora tribe since the early days of the colony, these brave Indians have maintained their independence; and there they are in the Sierra de Nayar, isolated, free from contact with Spaniards and halfbreeds, living with their superstitions and old customs. One day the author and his friend, the halfbreed Ramn Cardoba, arrive in the Sierra de Nayar. Ramn, a fugitive from justice, has killed the judge of San Blas who had a love affair with his wife; the author, a clerk in the custom house of San Blas, has decided to accompany his friend Ram6n in his flight. They undertake a long trip along the Santiago River to the forest. The author is preoccupied with two important matters: the 10 Ibid. The generals of our army have been the greatest obstacle to the attainment of popular aspirations. The troops, the hungry soldiers, are the cannon fodder sacrificed so that the general may rise to power or fall in the swamp of his crooked ambitions.10 On this rotten social foundation Mancisidor wishes to build his golden city for crowds of people oppressed by the yoke of im- memorial traditions. Mancisidor is, then, a national writer who fol- lows a rather universal trend, combining in his novels the human experience of his land, with the broad political doctrines which are disturbing the world of today. I shall only mention here the works of three novelists who must be taken into consideration in a more detailed study of this literary cycle. They are Mauricio Magdaleno, with his books Campo Celis (1935), Splendor (El Resplandor, 1937), The Big Earth (La Tierra grande, 1949), Cornsilk (Cabello de elote, 1949) ; Jorge Ferretis, with Hot Land (Tierra caliente, 1935), The South Burns (El Sur quema, 1937), When D. Quijote Gets Fat (Cuando en- gorda el Quijote, 1937), Saint Automobile (San autom6vil, 1938), Men in the Storm (Hombres en tempestad, 1942), and Xavier Icaza, author of Panchito Chapopote (1928). I shall, however, study in a detailed manner two novels which to me represent the ripe product of the last literary crop of Mexico. They are Nayar (1941), by Miguel Angel Menfndez, and El luto humano (1943), by Jos6 Revueltas. The action of Nayar takes place among the Cora Indians of Nayarit, in the high sierras near the Pacific. In spite of all efforts to conquer the Cora tribe since the early days of the colony, these brave Indians have maintained their independence; and there they are in the Sierra de Nayar, isolated, free from contact with Spaniards and halfbreeds, living with their superstitions and old customs. One day the author and his friend, the halfbreed Ramon Cordoba, arrive in the Sierra de Nayar. Ramon, a fugitive fmm justice, has killed the judge of San Blas who had a love affair with his wife; the author, a clerk in the custom house of San Blas, has decided to accompany his friend Ram6n in his flight. They undertake a long trip along the Santiago River to the forest. The author is preoccupied with two important matters: the 10 Ibid. The generals of our army have been the greatest obstacle to the attainment of popular aspirations. The troops, the hungry soldiers, are the cannon fodder sacrificed so that the general may rise to power or fall in the swamp of his crooked ambitionst0 On this rotten social foundation Mancisidor wishes to build his golden city for crowds of people oppressed by the yoke of im- memorial traditions. Mancisidor is, then, a national writer who fol- lows a rather universal trend, combining in his novels the human experience of his land, with the broad political doctrines which are disturbing the world of today. I shall only mention here the works of three novelists who must be taken into consideration in a more detailed study of this literary cycle. They are Mauricio Magdaleno, with his books Campo Celis (1935), Splendor (El Resplandor, 1937), The Big Earth (La Tierra grande, 1949), Cornsilk (Cabello de elote, 1949) ; Jorge Ferretis, with Hot Land (Tierra caliente, 1935), The South Burns (El Sur quema, 1937), When D. Quijote Gets Fat (Cuando en- gorda el Quijote, 1937), Saint Automobile (San automdvil, 1938), Men in the Storm (Hombres en tempestad, 1942), and Xavier Icaza, author of Panchito Chapopote (1928). I shall, however, study in a detailed manner two novels which to me represent the ripe product of the last literary crop of Mexico. They are Nayar (1941), by Miguel Angel Menfndez, and El luto humano (1943), by Jos6 Revueltas. The action of Nayar takes place among the Cora Indians of Nayarit, in the high sierras near the Pacific. In spite of all efforts to conquer the Cora tribe since the early days of the colony, these brave Indians have maintained their independence; and there they are in the Sierra de Nayar, isolated, free from contact with Spaniards and halfbreeds, living with their superstitions and old customs. One day the author and his friend, the halfbreed Ram6n Cdrdoba, arrive in the Sierra de Nayar. Ram6n, a fugitive from justice, has killed the judge of San Blas who had a love affair with his wife; the author, a clerk in the custom house of San Blas, has decided to accompany his friend Ramon in his flight. They undertake a long trip along the Santiago River to the forest. The author is preoccupied with two important matters: the 10 Ibid.  CULTURE 149 CULTURE 149 world in which they move and the misery of the people who live in those places. It is March and the bean stalks are in bloom; by the month of May the crop will be ready to be harvested: The Crop! A miracle of nature, sudden blooming of the Earth, which wants men to live. Miserable fallows, superficial scratchings of the wooden plough pulled by sickly mules, in which you drop any kind of seed and it blooms. Crop that the farmer sells even before he has cleared the forest, at whatever price they offer him; for if he does not accept the offer he does not sow, and if he does not sow he does not eat.11 The two friends travel by night in the black, wild forest. They pass through the land of the salt pits where the workers go blind from looking at the salt under the sun. They arrive at a little Indian island from which they are expelled by the Indians, who do not trust white men. They go through towns and villages. On their way to the "Tigre" they meet a group of Cora Indians, miners in trouble with the "gringos" who exploit the gold mines. The boss appears and a battle ensues in which four men lose their lives. Mr. Land, the foreign exploiter, is one of the victims. The author and Ram6n become friends of the Cora chief, Pedro Gervasio, and together they continue their journey through Sinaloa, Durango, Zacatecas, and Jalisco. The author describes the life of the Coras, their patriarchal government, religious ceremonies, witchcraft, superstitions, and legends. These are the people who refuse to accept the friendship of the Spaniards. The reason is obvious. Take, for example, the "pueblo" of Saint Teresa. It used to be a large "pueblo" but now it is deserted. After the arrival in the village of a halfbreed merchant, the Indians, who refused to deal with him, abandoned their homes. The merchant lost his customers, but the Indians needed money to buy or rent new lands. Then the merchant be- came a moneylender. If after a certain time the Indians could not pay their debts, the merchant would send his partner, Major Cometa, at the head of a group of army men, to collect. The Indians came to the conclusion that the only way to put an end to these abuses was to own bullets and rifles. The fight between the "cristeros" and the government troops reaches the Indian settle- 11 Nayar, p. 69. world in which they move and the misery of the people who live in those places. It is March and the bean stalks are in bloom; by the month of May the crop will be ready to be harvested: The Crop! A miracle of nature, sudden blooming of the Earth, which wants men to live. Miserable fallows, superficial scratchings of the wooden plough pulled by sickly mules, in which you drop any kind of seed and it blooms. Crop that the farmer sells even before he has cleared the forest, at whatever price they offer him; for if he does not accept the offer he does not sow, and if he does not sow he does not eat.11 The two friends travel by night in the black, wild forest. They pass through the land of the salt pits where the workers go blind from looking at the salt under the sun. They arrive at a little Indian island from which they are expelled by the Indians, who do not trust white men. They go through towns and villages. On their way to the "Tigre" they meet a group of Cora Indians, miners in trouble with the "gringos" who exploit the gold mines. The boss appears and a battle ensues in which four men lose their lives. Mr. Land, the foreign exploiter, is one of the victims. The author and Ramn become friends of the Cora chief, Pedro Gervasio, and together they continue their journey through Sinaloa, Durango, Zacatecas, and Jalisco. The author describes the life of the Coras, their patriarchal government, religious ceremonies, witchcraft, superstitions, and legends. These are the people who refuse to accept the friendship of the Spaniards. The reason is obvious. Take, for example, the "pueblo" of Saint Teresa. It used to be a large "pueblo" but now it is deserted. After the arrival in the village of a halfbreed merchant, the Indians, who refused to deal with him, abandoned their homes. The merchant lost his customers, but the Indians needed money to buy or rent new lands. Then the merchant be- came a moneylender. If after a certain time the Indians could not pay their debts, the merchant would send his partner, Major Cometa, at the head of a group of army men, to collect. The Indians came to the conclusion that the only way to put an end to these abuses was to own bullets and rifles. The fight between the "cristeros" and the government troops reaches the Indian settle- 11 Nayar, p. 69. CULTURE 193 world in which they move and the misery of the people who live in those places. It is March and the bean stalks are in bloom; by the month of May the crop will be ready to be harvested: The Crop! A miracle of nature, sudden blooming of the Earth, which wants men to live. Miserable fallows, superficial scratchings of the wooden plough pulled by sickly mules, in which you drop any kind of seed and it blooms. Crop that the farmer sells even before he has cleared the forest, at whatever price they offer him; for if he does not accept the offer he does not sow, and if he does not sow he does not eat."1 The two friends travel by night in the black, wild forest. They pass through the land of the salt pits where the workers go blind from looking at the salt under the sun. They arrive at a little Indian island from which they are expelled by the Indians, who do not trust white men. They go through towns and villages. On their way to the "Tigre" they meet a group of Cora Indians, miners in trouble with the "gringos" who exploit the gold mines. The boss appears and a battle ensues in which four men lose their lives. Mr. Land, the foreign exploiter, is one of the victims. The author and Ramon become friends of the Cora chief, Pedro Gervasio, and together they continue their journey through Sinaloa, Durango, Zacatecas, and Jalisco. The author describes the life of the Coras, their patriarchal government, religious ceremonies, witchcraft, superstitions, and legends. These are the people who refuse to accept the friendship of the Spaniards. The reason is obvious. Take, for example, the "pueblo" of Saint Teresa. It used to be a large "pueblo" but now it is deserted. After the arrival in the village of a halfbreed merchant, the Indians, who refused to deal with him, abandoned their homes. The merchant lost his customers, but the Indians needed money to buy or rent new lands. Then the merchant be- came a moneylender. If after a certain time the Indians could not pay their debts, the merchant would send his partner, Major Cometa, at the head of a group of army men, to collect. The Indians came to the conclusion that the only way to put an end to these abuses was to own bullets and rifles. The fight between the "cristeros" and the government troops reaches the Indian settle- 11 Nayar, p. 69.  150 The Caribbean ments. The Indians are caught between two enemy groups. One of them cries, Long live King Christ!; the other, Long live the Government! Gervasio explains the Cora Indian situation this way: It makes no difference. Both are halfbreeds. It is the same enemy. They are divided in order to fight, and they use us as bait. That's why we keep away from both. No matter who wins, we always lose.12 Precisely, that's what always happens. The "cristeros" take the village; they kill the men and rape the women; they cut the school- teacher's ears off and steal the food of the Indians. Then the government troops take the town; they destroy churches, they kill the men who are left and rape the women. So on this occasion, when the federal troops and the "cristeros" appear, Gervasio and his men decide to hide in the caves of the sierra. There they live, among spiders, scorpions, bats, red ants, waiting for the "redeemers of the country" to go away. Indian messengers bring Gervasio news of the atrocious brutality of both soldiers and "cristeros." Finally, the "redeemers" leave. The Indians return and find the ruins of their homes. A messenger, sent by Gervasio to see what has happened to other farms and ranches, finds them all destroyed by floods, rains, and bullets. Seeing this picture of desolation, the Indians decide to migrate to the lowlands. The only read open to them was to find work in the sugar plantations, in the tobacco fields, in the grazing lands where the masters are halfbreeds.1s But fate spoils the plans of the tribe. When Gervasio is ready to abandon his beloved sierra, an Indian delegation arrives to demand the death of the medicine man Uchuntu, whom they blame for their miseries. Ram6n is opposed to this barbaric accusation, but Gervasio bows to the demands of the tribe, and Uchuntu is condemned to be burned alive. Ram6n, wishing to save the life of a human being, runs in search of help to the federal soldiers, who unfortunately arrive when the body is on fire. The soldiers shoot from a distance, and Ramon is killed. 12 Nayar, p. 189. 1s Ibid., p. 245. 150 The Caribbean ments. The Indians are caught between two enemy groups. One of them cries, Long live King Christ!; the other, Long live the Government! Gervasio explains the Cora Indian situation this way: It makes no difference. Both are halfbreeds. It is the same enemy. They are divided in order to fight, and they use us as bait. That's why we keep away from both. No matter who wins, we always lose.2 Precisely, that's what always happens. The "cristeros" take the village; they kill the men and rape the women; they cut the school- teacher's ears off and steal the food of the Indians. Then the government troops take the town; they destroy churches, they kill the men who are left and rape the women. So on this occasion, when the federal troops and the "cristeros" appear, Gervasio and his men decide to hide in the caves of the sierra. There they live, among spiders, scorpions, bats, red ants, waiting for the "redeemers of the country" to go away. Indian messengers bring Gervasio news of the atrocious brutality of both soldiers and "cristeros." Finally, the "redeemers" leave. The Indians return and find the ruins of their homes. A messenger, sent by Gervasio to see what has happened to other farms and ranches, finds them all destroyed by floods, rains, and bullets. Seeing this picture of desolation, the Indians decide to migrate to the lowlands. The only road open to them was to find work in the sugar plantations, in the tobacco fields, in the grazing lands where the masters are halfbreeds.ts But fate spoils the plans of the tribe. When Gervasio is ready to abandon his beloved sierra, an Indian delegation arrives to demand the death of the medicine man Uchuntu, whom they blame for their miseries. Ram6n is opposed to this barbaric accusation, but Gervasio bows to the demands of the tribe, and Uchuntu is condemned to be burned alive. Ramon, wishing to save the life of a human being, runs in search of help to the federal soldiers, who unfortunately arrive when the body is on fire. The soldiers shoot from a distance, and Ram6n is killed. 12 Nayar, p. 189. 1s Ibid., p. 245. 150 The Caribbean ments. The Indians are caught between two enemy groups. One of them cries, Long live King Christ!; the other, Long live the Government! Gervasio explains the Cora Indian situation this way: It makes no difference. Both are halfbreeds. It is the same enemy. They are divided in order to fight, and they use us as bait. That's why we keep away from both. No matter who wins, we always lose.12 Precisely, that's what always happens. The "cristeros" take the village; they kill the men and rape the women; they cut the school- teacher's ears off and steal the food of the Indians. Then the government troops take the town; they destroy churches, they kill the men who are left and rape the women. So on this occasion, when the federal troops and the "cristeros" appear, Gervasio and his men decide to hide in the caves of the sierra. There they live, among spiders, scorpions, bats, red ants, waiting for the "redeemers of the country" to go away. Indian messengers bring Gervasio news of the atrocious brutality of both soldiers and "cristeros." Finally, the "redeemers" leave. The Indians return and find the ruins of their homes. A messenger, sent by Gervasio to see what has happened to other farms and ranches, finds them all destroyed by floods, rains, and bullets. Seeing this picture of desolation, the Indians decide to migrate to the lowlands. The only road open to them was to find work in the sugar plantations, in the tobacco fields, in the grazing lands where the masters are halfbreeds.1s But fate spoils the plans of the tribe. When Gervasio is ready to abandon his beloved sierra, an Indian delegation arrives to demand the death of the medicine man Uchuntu, whom they blame for their miseries. Ram6n is opposed to this barbaric accusation, but Gervasio bows to the demands of the tribe, and Uchuntu is condemned to be burned alive. Ram6n, wishing to save the life of a human being, runs in search of help to the federal soldiers, who unfortunately arrive when the body is on fire. The soldiers shoot from a distance, and Ram6n is killed. 12 Nayar, p. 189. 1s Ibid., p. 245.  CULTURE 151 CULTURE 151 CULTURE Now Gervasio is in jail in Tepic. He could save himself by saying that he was following the desire of the tribe, but he rmains silent. He turns his back on the halfbreed who questions him; the court clerk, knowing the psychology of the Indian so well, answers his own questions and smiles. There is no more evident proof of the failure of the revolutionary principles than the one contained in this novel. The author deals here with the Cora Indians, but isn't this a question that can be applied to any group of Indians in Mexico? We face here the old problem of the struggle between civilization and barbarism, except that in this case the values have been switched: barbarism is represented by judges, army officers, priests, landlords, money lenders; civilization, by the innocent and pure Indians. The child- ish world of the Coras is trampled upon and destroyed by hordes of villains, who, thirsting for blood, disgrace the name of Christ, as well as by soldiers, who, instead of preserving order, are evil forces of disintegration and chaos. We witness here the case of a liberty-loving tribe of Indians who, having been able to keep their independence during four centuries of colonial oppression, fall now before the onslaught of a government whose sacred duty it was to protect them. Menendez makes in this novel one of the most serious accusations of our time; and if the Mexican politicians remain indifferent in the presence of these abuses, it means that they are not worthy of being con- sidered the representatives of the people or the interpreters of a revolutionary philosophy. The degree of intensity with which Menendez attacks the Indian problem reveals in him a capacity for human understanding and tenderness rare among the writers of his generation. The novel of Jos6 Revueltas is entitled Human Mourning (El luto humano, 1943), and might well be called the Novel of Death. It is the story of a group of workmen fleeing from a storm, one of them carrying the corpse of his little daughter. During the course of the tragic flight they die, one by one, until the last ones are devoured by the buzzards. But death, or rather, the proximity of death, is only a pretext for the author to relate to us the most intense episodes of his characters' lives. In a continuous psychological zigzag these people go from real experience to the Now Gervasio is in jail in Tepic. He could save himself by saying that he was following the desire of the tribe, but he remains silent. He turns his back on the halfbred who questions him; the court clerk, knowing the psychology of the Indian so well, answers his own questions and smiles. There is no more evident proof of the failure of the revolutionary principles than the one contained in this novel. The author deals here with the Cora Indians, but isn't this a question that can be applied to any group of Indians in Mexico? We face here the old problem of the struggle between civilization and barbarism, except that in this case the values have been switched: barbarism is represented by judges, army officers, priests, landlords, money lenders; civilization, by the innocent and pure Indians. The child- ish world of the Coras is trampled upon and destroyed by hordes of villains, who, thirsting for blood, disgrace the name of Christ, as well as by soldiers, who, instead of preserving order, are evil forces of disintegration and chaos. We witness here the case of a liberty-loving tribe of Indians who, having been able to keep their independence during four centuries of colonial oppession, fall now before the onslaught of a government whose sacred duty it was to protect them. Menfndez makes in this novel one of the most serious accusations of our time; and if the Mexican politicians remain indifferent in the presence of these abuses, it means that they are not worthy of being con- sidered the representatives of the people or the interpreters of a revolutionary philosophy. The degree of intensity with which Menendez attacks the Indian problem reveals in him a capacity for human understanding and tenderness rare among the writers of his generation. The novel of Jose Revueltas is entitled Human Mourning (El luto humano, 1943), and might well be called the Novel of Death. It is the story of a group of workmen fleeing from a storm, one of them carrying the corpse of his little daughter. During the course of the tragic flight they die, one by one, until the last ones are devoured by the buzzards. But death, or rather, the proximity of death, is only a pretext for the author to relate to us the most intense episodes of his characters' lives. In a continuous psychological zigzag these people go from real experience to the Now Gervasio is in jail in Tepic. He could save himself by saying that he was following the desire of the tribe, but he remains silent. He turns his back on the halfbreed who questions him; the court clerk, knowing the psychology of the Indian so well, answers his own questions and smiles. There is no more evident proof of the failure of the revolutionary principles than the one contained in this novel. The author deals here with the Cora Indians, but isn't this a question that can be applied to any group of Indians in Mexico? We face here the old problem of the struggle between civilization and barbarism, except that in this case the values have been switched: barbarism is represented by judges, army officers, priests, landlords, money lenders; civilization, by the innocent and pure Indians. The child- ish world of the Coras is trampled upon and destroyed by hordes of villains, who, thirsting for blood, disgrace the name of Christ, as well as by soldiers, who, instead of preserving order, are evil forces of disintegration and chaos. We witness here the case of a liberty-loving tribe of Indians who, having been able to keep their independence during four centuries of colonial oppmssion, fall now before the onslaught of a government whose sacred duty it was to protect them. Mendndez makes in this novel one of the most serious accusations of our time; and if the Mexican politicians remain indifferent in the presence of these abuses, it means that they are not worthy of being con- sidered the representatives of the people or the interpreters of a revolutionary philosophy. The degree of intensity with which Menendez attacks the Indian problem reveals in him a capacity for human understanding and tenderness rare among the writers of his generation. The novel of Jose Revueltas is entitled Human Mourning (El luto humano, 1943), and might well be called the Novel of Death. It is the story of a group of workmen fleeing from a storm, one of them carrying the corpse of his little daughter. During the course of the tragic flight they die, one by one, until the last ones are devoured by the buzzards. But death, or rather, the proximity of death, is only a pretext for the author to relate to us the most intense episodes of his characters' lives. In a continuous psychological zigzag these people go from real experience to the  152 The Caribbean zone of remembering and then from the latter to the former. It is as if, close to death, man should stop suddenly and begin to live backwards. Let us hear what the author says: Their lives now had only one terminal dimension. From then on the minutes were going to be only a preparation. Their old past, rich or poor, would recommence in their remembrance: childhood, youth, love, suffering, eagerness, all that had been life would prepare itself from now on for death.14 From this process of remembering derive the disturbing scenes in the lives of the characters of this book, scenes which are terrible nightmares in the mind of Revueltas. He offers a guide of all the types created by the Mexican Revolution: the general, the governor, the judge, the schoolteacher, the priest, the labor leader, the assassin, the "cristero," the striker, and the strikebreaker. He also presents in Human Mourning the most fundamental problems of post-revolu- tionary Mexico: the violence of rural life; the rapacity and the poison symbolized in the Mexican emblem, the Eagle and the Serpent; the dispossession of Indian villages; the agrarian reform with its modern system of irrigation and farming; the syndical movement; the right to strike; the appearance of a new type of man in the labor movement; the religious schism with the establishment of a Mexican church; the reform of rural education; the develop- ment of a new generation of teachers with a revolutionary con- sciousness; the clash between teachers and "cristeros"; easy death, deep hatred, blind faith, and utter cynicism. In Human Mourning everything ends in failure and death: the revolution, in the hands of ignoramuses and thieves; the strikes, in the desertion of the workers; the agrarian reform, in the spirit of exploitation of the banks; rural education, with the brutality of the peasants, who punish the liberal teacher by cutting off his tongue; pure Christian faith, in the deification of the criminal "cristeros," who sacrifice their lives to superstition and hatred. Very rarely does an encouraging idea appear in the mind of this writer. He expresses admiration for a man only in passing, and immediately his pessimistic mood defeats his intent. He says the following about General Zapata: 14 El luto humano, p. 66. There is an English version entitled The Stone Knife. 152 The Caribbean 152 The Caribbean zone of remembering and then from the latter to the former. It is as if, close to death, man should stop suddenly and begin to live backwards. Let us hear what the author says: Their lives now had only one terminal dimension. From then on the minutes were going to be only a preparation. Their old past, rich or poor, would recommence in their remembrance: childhood, youth, love, suffering, eagerness, all that had been life would prepare itself from now on for death.'t From this process of remembering derive the disturbing scenes in the lives of the characters of this book, scenes which are terrible nightmares in the mind of Revueltas. He offers a guide of all the types created by the Mexican Revolution: the general, the governor, the judge, the schoolteacher, the priest, the labor leader, the assassin, the "cristero," the striker, and the strikebreaker. He also presents in Human Mourning the most fundamental problems of post-revolu- tionary Mexico: the violence of rural life; the rapacity and the poison symbolized in the Mexican emblem, the Eagle and the Serpent; the dispossession of Indian villages; the agrarian reform with its modern system of irrigation and farming; the syndical movement; the right to strike; the appearance of a new type of man in the labor movement; the religious schism with the establishment of a Mexican church; the reform of rural education; the develop- ment of a new generation of teachers with a revolutionary con- sciousness; the clash between teachers and "cristeros"; easy death, deep hatred, blind faith, and utter cynicism. In Human Mourning everything ends in failure and death: the revolution, in the hands of ignoramuses and thieves; the strikes, in the desertion of the workers; the agrarian reform, in the spirit of exploitation of the banks; rural education, with the brutality of the peasants, who punish the liberal teacher by cutting off his tongue; pure Christian faith, in the deification of the criminal "cristeros," who sacrifice their lives to superstition and hatred. Very rarely does an encouraging idea appear in the mind of this writer. He expresses admiration for a man only in passing, and immediately his pessimistic mood defeats his intent. He says the following about General Zapata: 14 El luto humano, p. 66. There is an English version entitled The Stone Knife. zone of remembering and then from the latter to the former. It is as if, close to death, man should stop suddenly and begin to live backwards. Let us hear what the author says: Their lives now had only one terminal dimension. From then on the minutes were going to be only a preparation. Their old past, rich or poor, would recommence in their remembrance: childhood, youth, love, suffering, eagerness, all that had been life would prepare itself from now on for death.14 From this process of remembering derive the disturbing scenes in the lives of the characters of this book, scenes which are terrible nightmares in the mind of Revueltas. He offers a guide of all the types created by the Mexican Revolution: the general, the governor, the judge, the schoolteacher, the priest, the labor leader, the assassin, the "cristero," the striker, and the strikebreaker. He also presents in Human Mourning the most fundamental problems of post-revolu- tionary Mexico: the violence of rural life; the rapacity and the poison symbolized in the Mexican emblem, the Eagle and the Serpent; the dispossession of Indian villages; the agrarian reform with its modern system of irrigation and farming; the syndical movement; the right to strike; the appearance of a new type of man in the labor movement; the religious schism with the establishment of a Mexican church; the reform of rural education; the develop- ment of a new generation of teachers with a revolutionary con- sciousness; the clash between teachers and "cristeros"; easy death, deep hatred, blind faith, and utter cynicism. In Human Mourning everything ends in failure and death: the revolution, in the hands of ignoramuses and thieves; the strikes, in the desertion of the workers; the agrarian reform, in the spirit of exploitation of the banks; rural education, with the brutality of the peasants, who punish the liberal teacher by cutting off his tongue; pure Christian faith, in the deification of the criminal "cristeros," who sacrifice their lives to superstition and hatred. Very rarely does an encouraging idea appear in the mind of this writer. He expresses admiration for a man only in passing, and immediately his pessimistic mood defeats his intent. He says the following about General Zapata: 14 El luto humano, p. 66. There is an English version entitled The Stone Knife.  CULTURE LUE153 CULTURE 153 CULTURE Zapata wata generlfrmthe peple. Hledid ntnowewhee Veedun tent titnated. Dnting the eat ef 1914, he befitved that hit enetniet, the Caeranea men, were attaching Veeden. Zapata mat a mtan of the people, ef the pure and eternal people, in the midst nfa savageandjtevltin. Thoeepeeplemwhoehnewtwhat Veedun tent, did net hkete, en the ethee hand, anything elte. They weee ahteletely ignerant nf eeeything elte. And life left themn lneking hatkwareds, tnening theie haeks en dll that teat the Retaln- tin, en that deae, deck, high, noble, and tinittee presse ef the HumnMourning reeaenthemnstintimate fibeesnf the Mexican teal. Revneltas eventspeahseef "Menican death," that deathmwhieh it caeried nnt hy the profensional ceimninnl, and wehieh givet hime "that heed emetien, that voluptuout masenlinity, that invigerating animal sensation." He else tpenkstnf "Mexiean leve," defined that: Ynn heleng tn me hedy and seal. Phytieally, intently, spieftually, ynnhbeleeg teme. Astyenaenemandtthenynhenme ahes. Vent benet are mine, ynue head, ynae teeth, ynne feet, pent theaghts are mine. Yetu heleng to me. Yen ttill altwayshbelongtonme.1" Etsentially Mexi can ate all the characte of thit nevel. The new man, the pace and energeitwnrke,ettewell as the generent Natieidad mat enpeeting tn teantfnrm the land, and hit dneteine peesuppoted the eistenee of anewmtypeof man, afeeeman in a line land. That mhy Ceeilia, twho mat the land of Menien, lneed him, eeen though the did net knew the secet, deep forees nnder- lyingtnucha love.lt There are, hoeere, othee eharacters-thote weho have not foend their may oc their aimt in life, perhaps 80 pee teat ti the Menitats. They are altoteveealed in HmanMoning: Calixto and Ursule were tomething elte. They mete the hitter, hlind, deaf, ceomplex, centeadietery trantition totward something that it wnaiting in the fatte. They mete the unexpestted detirm, the confuted hepe mhich appeart in a people trying In ditcoverests destiny.t' 15 El late fumneoe, p. 229. 16Ibid., p. 68. t I it., p. 298. 18El late heemeno, p. 299. Zapata tent a genteeal Item the peeple. He did net knem wehee Verdnas ntated. Dating the macelf 1914, he helieved that his enemiet, the Caecanea men, mete attaching Veedan. Zapata mat amnof the peeple, of the pate and eternal peeple,inethe midt al a tavage and just reveelutien. Thoe peeple mhe hem tehat Verdn tent, did eel knete, en the other hand, anything cite. They mete ahtolutely igneeant of eerything clte. And life left them lathing heckteaedt, lacning theft hachs en all that tent the Reeolu- lien, en that dent, deck, high, nehle, end tinittee pmocest of the HumanMounengtreeals the mettimhatelfiherstefthe Meaican teal. Reeueltat even speaks ef 'Meedcan death," that death tehich it tattled eat hy the proeesnienal ciminal, and wehich givehima "that hard emetien, that volaptuent matcnlinity, that ieeigerating animaltsentatien." Heealse speakteof"Meicanaloee," defined thus: Yen heleng te me hedy and teel. Phytically, mnerally, spiritully, yen heleng te lae. At yea ace ow end wehen yea heceme athet. Yent benet ate mine, yourehead, your teeth, your feet, yourethoughts ace mine. Yoeahelengleome. Yea mill alwaeythbeleng to et.t Ettentially Menican ace all the charactert ef this novel. The new man, the pete end energetic merhee, at welt at the genecent Natividad mat enpecting to transform the land, end hit docteine presuppoed theexistenefaewmtypeeofma,eafree man ina feecland. That'tmwhy Cecilia,mwhoastthe lndefMeic, led him, eeen theaghshe didnetknm theecrt,deep fecende- lyine tuch eloet.tt Thereeee,hoeer,thrtcharactert-themhe haentfeand theft may er theft eates in ife, pechapt 89 pee tent ef the Metdcans. They amre otevealed in Heman Meuning: Celito and Uctule mee tomething cite. They mete the hitter, hlind, deal, nemplen, centraditery transitien temnrd temething that is mailing in the fetue. They were the unexpestted detirm, the cenfeted koe which appears in a peeple trying te ditcoer its dettiay.tt 15El ltl huanoe, p. 229. It Ibid., p. ft. 17 Ibid., p. 298. 18 El latn humaee, p. 299. Zapnta tent a genteeal fete the peeple. He did net hnem tehere Verdun tent titeated. Derieg the war ef 1914, he helieved that hit entmies, the Cacranza men, mete attaching Verdn. Zapata mat aman ef the peeple, ef the pure nd etereal peeple, la the midt of atnavnge and jutreeltien. Thoeepeepletwhttkewmmht Veedue mat, did net keew, ee the ether hand, anything clte. They mee ahteletely ignernt ef everythieg cite. And life left them lathing hackmardt, tucning theft backt en elf that met the Reeole- tin, en that dent, deck, high, nohle, and tinittec ptocett ef the tetelntiee.'t Reman Mouninlg reealt the mott intimate fihers ef the Mexican soul. Revueltas evee speaks ef 'Menitn death," that death wehich is tattled otthy the prefessional criminal, end wehich givet him "that heed emotion, that eolupteoes matculiaity, that ineigecating ansmal sentetien." Heehlsocppeksof "Meican loe," defined tht: Yea heleng In me hody and teal. Phyticelly, merally, spieitually, yea heleng In mae. At yen ace nom end wehen yen hecome athes. Vent hones ate mine, your heed, peat teeth, your feel, your theughts ace mine. Yoenheleng tome. Yen mill almaythbelong tonmelt' Ettentilly Mexican ace all the chatacters of thit noel. The ne an, the pace end energetic merke, at mell at the generous Natieidad mat enpecting to trnstformt the land, end hit doctrine presuppsed thecexiteneef anemtyppeofman,eafeeeinaina feecland. That'smwhy Cecilia,mwhoemasthe landf Meic, loeed him, teven theugh the did net hnem the tecet, deep forcet under- lying tech a love.'-t There ace, hoee, other charactert-thse weho have net feund theft may er theft eates in life, pechapt 80 pee tent of the Mexicant. They ace ekeo reealed in Heman Mourning: Calinte end Urtelo mete something clte. They mete the hittec, blind, deaf, nomplex, contraditory transitin tomaed tomething that it mailing in the futue. They mete the unexpestsed detire, the cenfased hepe which eppeea in a peeple trping te discoer its dettiay.tt It El late hnmene, p. 229. 11 Ibid., p. 68. 1]Ibid., p. 211. 11 El Ilet hlant, p. 299.  154 The Caribbean Here is, then, all the political and social thought of Revueltas. Land in itself, as it is in Mexico today, is useless. Land is a dark goddess. Land demands the effort, the dignity, the hope of man. Transformed by means of fertilizers, irrigation, cooperatives, it would become free and new; and the Mexican woman, Cecilia, loved Natividad because unconsciously she established that unity without which the world would end: love and work, that is to say, Woman and Earth. The others, Calixto and Ursula, went blindly through life. Although they also had illusions, their future was more uncertain, their life less pure. Their existence was hope- ful, but without direction. Thus with all the Mexican nation. Some men die for an ideal; others kill for pleasure, need, or lust; a few are creative men who affirm, have faith, love; others doubt, deny, hate. And they all go around in the wheel of time upon the same tragic land, until one day they remain quiet under that land, so as to leave a place to oncoming generations. All the people in this novel die. The feast of the vultures tragically underlines the last page of this book, but it would not be just to think that all hope has died in the heart of the author. When the defeated peasants ask Ursulo: "Why must we remain here, to eat earth?" he answers, putting a handful of earth into his mouth, "And why not?" Thus, he is setting down a line of con- duct, an ideal. The earth, the noble example, the idea, the revo- lution, all remain. The example of the new man does not die, the love of the woman able to understand a man with those ideals does not die. The contemporary Mexican novel, as a product of life, also goes revolving around in that indestructible unity of action, dreams, illusions, hopes, in the wheel of time. It does not matter if it affirms or denies the revolutionary movement; if it deals with rot, ugliness, brutality, beauty, it does not matter. The novel is an integral part of that unity which is the entire soul of a people in movement, a people passing thrmugh cactus deserts, salt pits, ceme- teries, and also through green forests and snow-capped sierras. Not all is "human mourning" in Mexico! 154 The Caribbean 154 The Caribbean Here is, then, all the political and social thought of Revueltas. Land in itself, as it is in Mexico today, is useless. Land is a dark goddess. Land demands the effort, the dignity, the hope of man. Transformed by means of fertilizers, irrigation, cooperatives, it would become free and new; and the Mexican woman, Cecilia, loved Natividad because unconsciously she established that unity without which the world would end: love and work, that is to say, Woman and Earth. The others, Calixto and Ursulo, went blindly through life. Although they also had illusions, their future was more uncertain, their life less pure. Their existence was hope- ful, but without direction. Thus with all the Mexican nation. Some men die for an ideal; others kill for pleasure, need, or lust; a few are creative men who affirm, have faith, love; others doubt, deny, hate. And they all go around in the wheel of time upon the same tragic land, until one day they remain quiet under that land, so as to leave a place to oncoming generations. All the people in this novel die. The feast of the vultures tragically underlines the last page of this book, but it would not be just to think that all hope has died in the heart of the author. When the defeated peasants ask Ursulo: "Why must we remain here, to eat earth?" he answers, putting a handful of earth into his mouth, "And why not?" Thus, he is setting down a line of con- duct, an ideal. The earth, the noble example, the idea, the revo- lution, all remain. The example of the new man does not die, the love of the woman able to understand a man withthose ideals does not die. The contemporary Mexican novel, as a product of life, also goes revolving around in that indestructible unity of action, dreams, illusions, hopes, in the wheel of time. It does not matter if it affirms or denies the revolutionary movement; if it deals with rot, ugliness, brutality, beauty, it does not matter. The novel is an integral part of that unity which is the entire soul of a people in movement, a people passing through cactus deserts, salt pits, ceme- teries, and also through green forests and snow-capped sierras. Not all is "human mourning" in Mexico! Here is, then, all the political and social thought of Revueltas. Land in itself, as it is in Mexico today, is useless. Land is a dark goddess. Land demands the effort, the dignity, the hope of man. Transformed by means of fertilizers, irrigation, cooperatives, it would become free and new; and the Mexican woman, Cecilia, loved Natividad because unconsciously she established that unity without which the world would end: love and work, that is to say, Woman and Earth. The others, Calixto and Ursulo, went blindly through life. Although they also had illusions, their future was more uncertain, their life less pure. Their existence was hope- ful, but without direction. Thus with all the Mexican nation. Some men die for an ideal; others kill for pleasure, need, or lust; a few are creative men who affirm, have faith, love; others doubt, deny, hate. And they all go around in the wheel of time upon the same tragic land, until one day they remain quiet under that land, so as to leave a place to oncoming generations. All the people in this novel die. The feast of the vultures tragically underlines the last page of this book, but it would not be just to think that all hope has died in the heart of the author. When the defeated peasants ask Ursulo: "Why must we remain here, to eat earth?" he answers, putting a handful of earth into his mouth, "And why not?" Thus, he is setting down a line of con- duct, an ideal. The earth, the noble example, the idea, the revo- lution, all remain. The example of the new man does not die, the love of the woman able to understand a man with those ideals does not die. The contemporary Mexican novel, as a product of life, also goes revolving around in that indestructible unity of action, dreams, illusions, hopes, in the wheel of time. It does not matter if it affirms or denies the revolutionary movement; if it deals with rot, ugliness, brutality, beauty, it does not matter. The novel is an integral part of that unity which is the entire soul of a people in movement, a people passing through cactus deserts, salt pits, ceme- teries, and also through green forests and snow-capped sierras. Not all is "human mourning" in Mexico!  14 14 Doris Stone: SCHOOLS THAT LIVE A NATION has only one natural heritage: land. If the soil is abused, the nation is abused. Therefore man, the citizen, must know how to preserve that heritage, how to conserve the natural resources of the country. This is the fundamental key to all hap- piness. And man is not born knowing. His adjustment, adaptability to life, is the result of an accumulation of experiences on his part and on that of a community. This is not a mere philosophy. It is a fact. It becomes very evident the more remote the individual or group is from the ordinary centers of national or international intercourse. The isolated, the ignorant, or, better said, those poorly trained in the fundamentals of living, are most responsible in ruin- ing that which constitutes the backbone of a people: the land. There is only one solution of this problem: education in a vital living sense. The country of Costa Rica in Central America has been fortunate in that the area apart from its urban or densely ppoulated zones has lent itself to experiments in human living in accordance with the environment and the needs of particular and divers groups. Southern Costa Rica has served admirably in this case because of the mixtures of cultures and their corresponding necessities. This commingling is found in a relatively small ter- ritory with a physical environment similar to the Caribbean and Atlantic littoral of northern, southern, and eastern Central America. Doris Stone: SCHOOLS THAT LIVE A NATION has only one natural heritage: land. If the soil is abused, the nation is abused. Therefore man, the citizen, must know how to preserve that heritage, how to conserve the natural resources of the country. This is the fundamental key to all hap- piness. And man is not born knowing. His adjustment, adaptability to life, is the result of an accumulation of experiences on his part and on that of a community. This is not a mere philosophy. It is a fact. It becomes very evident the more remote the individual or group is from the ordinary centers of national or international intercourse. The isolated, the ignorant, or, better said, those poorly trained in the fundamentals of living, are most responsible in ruin- ing that which constitutes the backbone of a people: the land. There is only one solution of this problem: education in a vital living sense. The country of Costa Rica in Central America has been fortunate in that the area apart from its urban or densely populated zones has lent itself to experiments in human living in accordance with the environment and the needs of particular and divers groups. Southern Costa Rica has served admirably in this case because of the mixtures of cultus and their corresponding necessities. This commingling is found in a relatively small ter- ritory with a physical environment similar to the Caribbean and Atlantic littoral of northern, southern, and eastern Central America. Doris Stone: SCHOOLS THAT LIVE A NATION has only one natural heritage: land. If the soil is abused, the nation is abused. Therefore man, the citizen, must know how to preserve that heritage, how to conserve the natural resources of the country. This is the fundamental key to all hap- piness. And man is not born knowing. His adjustment, adaptability to life, is the result of an accumulation of experiences on his part and on that of a community. This is not a mere philosophy. It is a fact. It becomes very evident the more remote the individual or group is from the ordinary centers of national or international intercourse. The isolated, the ignorant, or, better said, those poorly trained in the fundamentals of living, are most responsible in ruin- ing that which constitutes the backbone of a people: the land. There is only one solution of this problem: education in a vital living sense. The country of Costa Rica in Central America has been fortunate in that the area apart from its urban or densely populated zones has lent itself to experiments in human living in accordance with the environment and the needs of particular and divers groups. Southern Costa Rica has served admirably in this case because of the mixtures of cultures and their corresponding necessities. This commingling is found in a relatively small ter- ritory with a physical environment similar to the Caribbean and Atlantic littoral of northern, southern, and eastern Central America. 155 155 155  156 The Caribbean The tecond largest plateau ef Cetta Rica is knoswn as the Gee- eral Valley. This is deained by the Generat River wuhich jamns the Platanaest aed Cute-Beasto fnm the Diquic ee Rie Geade de Tieaba. tn late pee-Coumebian tiese alt of chic region uppeaes to base been inhabited by Boreuca Indians, a sedentaey geoup wchose culturalerootteem tonpointt etern Suth Aeica, inpa- ticularEcuadoreand Per. The Tatanmancan Range, highect in Central Amceeica, laeees the division hetsceen the Caribbean and the Pacific slapes of Costa Rica. Tbe ectioen hnown at Talameanca ie in tenth the aea drained by the Sinxatla Riee aed its teibutariet. Here, hefoee the Spanish Conquet,dwelca numbheroftibeseach with adiffeent tongue amnang whbich weree included the Tcercbas, Cabicuest, and Beibeit. AlwereeofeastcernSouthAmeeicantockswith amanner oflliingshaowing grcatimilarity ttheain-feetcultuest of Venezueta and noethern Colomchia. Shortly befoee the Spanish aerivat the Beibeis bad conqueced the Cabecacet, icnposing themr lay cute and nmnch aftcheie speech, but accepting the religion and geere hnnowledge at the othee. All groups in thit acea, howcever, comebined against the wchite invader, and the lace remeainstchat the people at Talancanca were neere really cubdued or conveerted by colonial Spain. Pranciscan fathers built mtissions, and Spanich teen deet in new-ifermed taunt. But aenund 1700 the Indians eebelled, and weith decided and hitterrestentment burned the tehice comntnitics and momntarily again becatee mastcees of cheie onn heeitage. Ascapunishmcentaeorthesecoffniecandeualdetuc- tians, the calanial gocernmaent transplanted canme of the mt re- belliout graups to the Pacific tide of the cange, and founded the Indian colonies of Ujarras, Salite, and Ticcaba in land belong- ing tc the alrecady subdued Boraca Indians. Land wcas not scarce in southeastern Costa Rica. Thece scene moreeicrestand eaeth than pecplectoinhaiti. Intrcthnoc until 1945, tehen a fine wacs cat fac the propoced Pan-Amterican Hlighweay, did mnen tense the Central Plateau becomce interested in thiscarea. ThengovernentnofCosta Ricalfound itselficedcith the problent at lane gcoups, distinct in language and cultuce, weho acne utterty unpepared to pectent themstetest against the unseen- 156 The Caribbean 156 The Caribbean The secnnd laegect plateau at Cocca Rica it beaten at the Gen- terat Valley. This it drained by the General Rier schich jamns the Plntanares and Coto-Bets In tenet the Diquis cc Rio Grande de Terraba. In late pee-Colucmbian timuet all of chit region appears to have been inhabited by Boruca Indiant, a sedentary group wbate cultueal cents teem toepint to wscetern South Americin pan- ticularEfcuadoreand Perta. The Tatanmancan Range, highest in Centrat Amereica, inrms the divsision between the Caribbean and the Pacific clopes of Costa Rica. The cection beaten at Talamnanca is in tcuth the area deemned by the Sixaola Riven and its tcibutaies. Hens, betoe the Spanish Conquest, dteelt a numtber aftrIibes each weith a different tongue amoeng tehich scene included the Tieabas, Cabicaces, and Beibric. Alswerccofeasteen SouthbAmerican stocktwithbaanner ofiliingshswinggeatcimilarityctotheai-fest cultues at Veezuela and nrthere Colomcbia. Shorctly hefene the Spanith arrival the Bribris bad conquered the Cabecarec, itepocieg themr lay cule and teach of their speech, bat accepting the eligion and greater knwledge oi the ocher. Alt groups in thit aea, hoee, cotebined against the tehite invader, and the tact remnains that the people oi Talamcanca weree ee really subdued or conveerted by colonial Spain. Pranciscan fachers built mcissins, and Spanish teen dwelt in newc-foreted tawnt. But aconcd 17110 the Indians rebelled, and wteih decided and bitte ccresenttment banned the tehite commeunities and toetarily again becatee mcasters of themr cwn heritage. As apuisheentforthesenffenivesad brtal destuc- clans, the colonial gov'ernment transplanted eate of the mosct re- bellious geoups cc the Pacific tide of the range, and founded the Indian colonies of Ujarras, Salice, and Tieaba in land belong- ing tc the already subdued Boeuca Indians. Land teat eat scarce in southeastern Casta Rica. There tee te estnadearth than peoplectoinhabit it. Inctrutheno until 1945, when a line teat cut inn the proposed Pan-Amterican Highteay, did teen leanm the Centcal Plateau becomce ineeseted in this area. The governmentnofCcstacRicaifonditselffaccdcwth the problemc of lace groupt, dictinct in language and culture, teho werenutterly unpreparedctoprtct themstelvescagainst the uscu- The cecond laegect plateau of Costa Rica it beaten as the Gee- entl Valley. This is draned by the General Riven tehich jamns the Platanarec and Coto-Beusto Inoene the Diquis cc Rio Geande de Ticcaba. In late pre-Cotumbaian tia-tn all of this egion appears to bane been inhabited by Bonuca Indinsc, a tedentary group tehose cultural cents seemttapoint to wsceten South Aeica, in pan- ticular Eicuador and Pern. The Talamcancan Range, highest in Central Aterica, metes the division betweene the Caribbean and the Pacific slopes of Cocca Rica. The cection knoswn at Talateanca is in tenth the arna drained by the Sinaola Riven and its cribuaaiet. Here, befoe the Spanish Conquest, dweltt a nuteberof tribes each wteih a different tngute amoeng tehich wcne included the Terrabas, Cabcaes, and Bribeic. AlltterecofeasteneSouth Aterican stockthaeanner oftliing showcing geatsimilarity tothenrin-foest cltues of Venezuela and northern Colombcia. Shortly helene the Spanich arrieal the Bribris bad conqucerd the Cabcaec, imcposing ther lay rule and teach aftcheir speech, hut accepting the religin and geuter knteledge oi the otber. All groups in chit area, hoteern, cotebined against the tehite invade, and the tact emeains chat the people of Talateanca terce necver really subdued en conerted by colonial Spain. Peanciscan fathers built missins, and Spanish teen dteelt in newc-formed Itewnt, fiat around 17i00 the Indians ebelled, and swith decided and bitten resentmcent banned the wchite cotetunities and momtentcardy again became teasters of themr oten heritage. Astapnishmcent fan these offensives andhbrutal detruc- linc, the colonial government transplantedsomen of she moast re- beltious geoups tc the Pacific side oi the range, and tonded the Indian colonies of Ujarrac, Salice, and Tecraba in land belong- ing cc the already cubdued Bocuca Indians. Land teat not scarce in soucheastern Cocca Rica. Thee tee te fesntnandearthbthan peoplentoihaiti. Inctrachnot until 1945, tehen a line teat cat fan the propoced Pan-Amecrican Highteay, did teen frcm the Centeal Plateau becomee inteecsted in this anna. ThesgovecnmencoiCosta Ricafound itselfliaced with the problemc of fourgroups, distinct in langage and cabanae, teho wcene utterly unprepared to protect themstelves against the unseen-  CULTURE LUE157 CULTURE 157 CULTURE pulous individual weith designs to seite and exploit their lood int the vicinity of the highwoay. The titoation mat faethee aggeavated in that fem of these teihes spohe the official tongue, Sponish, andoeachwas inadiffeent stage of eonomic adsocial develop- meet. Thereswassneed focoaction,oandtheoctionmas edation. The government organized a "Junta," or committeof flve, to carry one this peoject. Is is composed ofoalawyec,oaeepesettive of the Notinol Geogeophic Institute, an enginee, an edocoto, nd an antheopologist. The economic aid came at flest fcom a liqor eon, hot is now a eegular sohoention from Coogress. Four schoohm eeestactedeundercthis plan. Theyacehbased oothe idea of a geange, bust one that takes into consideration the particalar environment and needs of the commusnity in mhich it is situated. The fundamental thooght behind the projece is the recognition that the Indian is a homan heing and can develop into a contributiog and usefutl citinen of the republic instead of heing a charge of the Psychology lies at the roots of this experiment. Foe this reason emphasis is given to both langonges, the Spanish nd that of she particolar geroup. This creates she gmeatec impoetance of teibol legends and histories. One primer in the Cabecar tongue is en useoandanotheroinfBeihoiisheingmwien. Indians trained in Spanish and their native speech employ this primer to teach the newly aerioed stodent. The idea is to acqoant the pupil mith the peinted mood as scoll as to offee a bridge from theoold to the nem language wchich sueeronds him. The indigenous teachers ace beiog furterschooedo eoahlethe opening of other granges deep in the hoer of Beibrci and Cahfcar tereitory wohero a knowledge of Spanish is practicolly non-existent. Stiff, in connection with thit plan, aSl aoriginal costoms wchich can he incorpocated in modemn fiving oe wohich do not hindec the natinalioation of the individnal ace encour aged. The eduation in itself is functional. Arithmetic, foe example, is taught mith noumheos hoe ahso mith obijects of the enoironment such as acao or hashets of corn, pounds of meat ovegetahles, or kintals of coffee or rice, and the measuring of a lot in the agri- culenrof field. Finally, the more odoanced studenes ame tought the use of moneyhby working in the school commissary. These com- ms acisae stocked only mith ettensials not oheainable in the area, puous individal with designs to seize and exploit their land in the oicinity of the highmay. The sienation inns furether aggravated in that fem of these teibos spohe the official tngne, Spanish, nd each mascin a different stageoof economicndsocial develop- ment. There mat need fornaction, and thecinmas edaion. The goveenment oeganized a "Junea," orcommittee of floe, to caory ot this pmjne. It is composed of alaer,aepresenttive of the National Geogeaphic Instieute, an engineer, n educaor, and an anthropologist. The economic nid came at flost loom a liqaoe too, hot is nom a reguar suhventin from Congests. Four schools mere started under this plan. They ace hosed on the idea of a gcange, hat one that takes into consideoation the poetical ar environment nd needs of the community in which it it situaed. The fundameneal thought hehiod the peoject is the recognition that the Indian is a human heing and con deoelop into a contrihuting and usmful citizen of the republic instead of being a change of the Psychology lies at the conts of this experimen. Foe this rao emphasis is gioen so bosh languages, the Spanish and that of the pacticular goup. This creaes the gmeater importance of srihal legends and hissocies. One primer in the Cabecae tongue is in use and anothec in Bribri is being moisten. Indiant teained in Spanish and theirnnative speech employ this primec tosteach the nemly arcived student. Thc idea is to acquaint the popil mith the printed word as scoff as to offer a hridge from the old so the new laoguage wchich surroonde him. The indigonous teachers ace being further tchooled to enahle the opening of oshec gcanges deep in the hoesr of Bribrci and Cabecar tecritocy wchere a kowmledge of Spanish it praceically on-existent. Still, in connection scith this plan, ofll ahoriginal customs wchich con he incorporated in modemn living oe wchich do not hinder the ntionaliatin of the individnal ace encouraged. The edocatin in itself is fanctsnal. Arithmetic, fnc example, is taught mith numbers hot alto with obijecte of the environmeot such as flacaor be atkess of coro, poundo of meat orevegetales, or kintals of coffee or nice, and the measuring of a lot in the agri- caltaral field. Finally, the mono adonced students ace etaughe the use of money bymoring inhe choolcommissay. Theseocom- misais0r stockhed only wcith essenialsnoteohtainhble inthe ae, puous individual with designs to seize nd exploit theircland in the oficinity of ohe highway. The sitatsin mat furother aggranated en that fem of thete eribes opohe the official tongue, Spanish, and each mat in a different stage of ecoomic and social develop- moot. There was need foracion, nd the actionwas edcaion. The government oganized a "Junta," ocommitteenof floe, to carry outthis poject. It iscompsednfaaye,nacrpeetative of the National Geographic Institute, n enginee, an educato, and an anthropologist. The economic aid came at fert foom a liqauor tan, lint is now a regular subvention loom Congress. Penn schoolsmwerestartednunderothis plan. Theyarehnased onstheidea of a grange, bat one that takoes into considernsion the pareicular environment and needs of the community ino which it is sieuated. The fnndamental thoaght behind the projoct is the mocognitin that she Indian is a haman heing and can develop into a contributing and useful tzeon of the repeublic instead of heing a change of she Psychology lies at the roots of this experimnt. For this meason emphasis is given to bosh languages, the Spanish and shoe of the parsicolar goup. This ceotes the greatnr importance of erihal legends and historins. One primnr in the Cahb coo tongne is in ame and another in Bribri ishbeingmwite. Indins tined in Spanish nd theironative speech employ this primeroto teach the nemfy arrined studont. The idea is to acqaint the pupil mieh the pointed mood as well as en offer a bridge loom the old to the new fangage wchicoh surconds him. The indigenoos seachers ace heing fuother schooled tn enable the opening of other granges deep in the hence of Bribri and Cabecar territory wchere a Lowledge of Spanish is praceically non-existent. Still, in connection mith this plan, all aboriginal customs wchich can he incorporated in modern living on wchich do oe hinderc the nationalizatin of the individoal ace encouraged. The edocatin in itself is functinal. Arithmetic, foe example, is eaught mieh nombers hoe also mith objects of the enoironment such asavas orhbskessof cornpondseof meat orcvegenbles, or fintafs of coffee or nice, and the measuring of a foe in the agri- cultural field. Finally, the moon adonced suents one staght the ate of money by working in she school comminsary. These com- missaries arestocendonlymwih essentials not obtainableoin theare,  158 The Caribbean such as salt, household medicines, soap, and matches. They sell with a minimum of profit just to the Indians, the gain being used as a token payment to the pupils who work behind the counter. The basis of these schools is farming, and each community differs both in natural environment and in the degree of preparation for our way of life. Vacations vary slightly depending on the crops and the time of planting and harvesting. When this program started, the Bribris of Salitre were really not past rain-forest culture, and by tradition dedicated themselves to hunting, fishing, and as little planting as possible. Their principal domestic occupation was raising the wild pecari. Matrilineal clans formed the basis for their social envionment, each group inhabiting a given area but without an idea of individual ownership of this land. The Cabd- cares were similar to the Bribris, but were slightly more dedicated to cultivation and, at the time of the opening of the grange school in Ujarras, were living as separate families in distinct, not clan, houses. Nevertheless, the region where they dwelt was con- sidered the property of the whole tribe for use as grazing land and, to a certain extent, agriculture. The Tfrrabas, who had been under the influence of Paulinist priests in the latter half of the past century, had their individual farms which were passed on within the family itself and abandoned only when the earth refused to yield. There was little problem with the Borucas. They had been under Spanish influence since the conquest, and in fact had at one time boasted a cabildo or town hall. Their farm lands were governed by a council which allotted given areas, and when the committee took over the direction of this group, they were accustomed to sell or exchange with one another, although no Indian had a title to his property. It is obvious why the school had to mold itself to the local environment before it could exert its influence towards any change of custom. There are certain aspects which are common in all the granges, however. Both sexes work in the fields, and help in the making of compost or natural fertilizers, in irrigating, in terracing against erosion, in grafting, and in seed selection. Two methods of planting are used side by side: a small patch in the aboriginal manner, and a larger one in the scientific way with worked soil and natural fertilizers, for example. The result is that the school takes a vital place in the community. Even the older people 158 The Caribbean 158 The Caribbean such as salt, household medicines, soap, and matches. They sell with a minimum of profit just to the Indians, the gain being used as a token payment to the pupils who work behind the counter. The basis of these schools is farming, and each community differs both in natural environment and in the degree of preparation for our way of life. Vacations vary slightly depending on the crops and the time of planting and harvesting. When this program started, the Bribris of Salitre were really not past rain-forest culture, and by tradition dedicated themselves to hunting, fishing, and as little planting as possible. Their principal domestic occupation was raising the wild pecari. Matrilineal clans formed the basis for their social environment, each group inhabiting a given area but without an idea of individual ownership of this land. The Cab6- cares were similar to the Bribris, but were slightly more dedicated to cultivation and, at the time of the opening of the grange school in Ujarras, were living as separate families in distinct, not clan, houses. Nevertheless, the region where they dwelt was con- sidered the property of the whole tribe for use as grazing land and, to a certain extent, agriculture. The Terrabas, who had been under the influence of Paulinist priests in the latter half of the past century, had their individual farms which were passed on within the family itself and abandoned only when the earth refused to yield. There was little problem with the Borucas. They had been under Spanish influence since the conquest, and in fact had at one time boasted a cabildo or town hall. Their farm lands were governed by a council which allotted given areas, and when the committee took over the direction of this group, they were accustomed to sell or exchange with one another, although no Indian had a title to his property. It is obvious why the school had to mold itself to the local environment before it could exert its influence towards any change of custom. There are certain aspects which are common in all the granges, however. Both sexes work in the fields, and help in the making of compost or natural fertilizers, in irrigating, in terracing against erosion, in grafting, and in seed selection. Two methods of planting are used side by side: a small patch in the aboriginal manner, and a larger one in the scientific way with worked soil and natural fertilizers, for example. The result is that the school takes a vital place in the community. Even the older people such as salt, household medicines, soap, and matches. They sell with a minimum of profit just to the Indians, the gain being used as a token payment to the pupils who work behind the counter. The basis of these schools is farming, and each community differs both in natural environment and in the degree of preparation for our way of life. Vacations vary slightly depending on the crops and the time of planting and harvesting. When this program started, the Bribris of Salitre were really not past rain-forest culture, and by tradition dedicated themselves to hunting, fishing, and as little planting as possible. Their principal domestic occupation was raising the wild pecari. Matrilineal clans formed the basis for their social environment, each group inhabiting a given area but without an idea of individual ownership of this land. The Cabe- cares were similar to the Bribris, but were slightly more dedicated to cultivation and, at the time of the opening of the grange school in Ujarras, were living as separate families in distinct, not clan, houses. Nevertheless, the region where they dwelt was con- sidered the property of the whole tribe for use as grazing land and, to a certain extent, agriculture. The Terrabas, who had been under the influence of Paulinist priests in the latter half of the past century, had their individual farms which were passed on within the family itself and abandoned only when the earth refused to yield. There was little problem with the Borucas. They had been under Spanish influence since the conquest, and in fact had at one time boasted a cabildo or town hall. Their farm lands were governed by a council which allotted given areas, and when the committee took over the direction of this group, they were accustomed to sell or exchange with one another, although no Indian had a title to his pwperty. It is obvious why the school had to mold itself to the local environment before it could exert its influence towards any change of custom. There are certain aspects which are common in all the granges, however. Both sexes work in the fields, and help in the making of compost or natural fertilizers, in irrigating, in terracing against erosion, in grafting, and in seed selection. Two methods of planting are used side by side: a small patch in the aboriginal manner, and a larger one in the scientific way with worked soil and natural fertilizers, for example. The result is that the school takes a vital place in the community. Even the older people  CULTURE 159 CULTURE 159 CULTURE living back in the forest-covered hills come to see the "magic" of corn resplendent with full ears instead of one or two poorly grained ears on a stalk. Little by little the wary villagers copy the new methods. The fundamentals of animal husbandry are also taught to both boys and girls. This includes the proper feeding and care of pigs and chickens and the construction of pens or coops with materials taken from the surrounding forests. The girls learn sewing and cooking, particularly the preparation of the produce from the fields. It is the emphasis in the instruction which changes according to the location. In Salitre, of the Bribris, cultivation is limited to such crops as yuccas, plantains, and rice. These can easily be grown in quantity on land that is not too good and can serve as food for human beings as well as for the pigs and chickens which form the chief elements of their economy. This is also true to a certain extent of the Terrabas. The Cabecares of Ujarras inhabit a fertile, beautiful valley. Here the school has developed truck gardening with the result that vegetables are frequently sent to augment the students' tables in Salitre, or sold in the neighbor- ing non-Indian village of Buenos Aires. Nearly every house in the community of Ujarras has its own vegetable patch. The Borucas, in contrast to the other tribes that live in houses scattered all over their territory, boast of having a town of the most picturesque nature. The Boruca school has cane, cotton, and vegetables, as well as a mill for making brown sugar. This has been a great stimulus for the local inhabitants. They have in- creased their own cane fields, use the mill, and in fact are begin- ning to feel that the school is a fundamental part of their life. The Borucas have an outstanding heritage in cotton weaving and weere famous in colonial times for purple cloth decorated with pat- terns in the single weft weave. The Spaniards demanded kilos of this material as tribute to be sent to the king and the pope. Classes in dyeing the cotton and in weaving have consequently formed part of the curriculum. The best pieces made by the towns- folk, as well as the students, are bought by the school to be sold at a small profit in the capital of the republic. Football, basketball, and baseball have been introduced in all the area, and also the custom of popular assemblies with songs, plays, and dances. This helps to take away the natural shyness living back in the forest-covered hills come to see the "magic" of corn resplendent with full ears instead of one or two poorly grained ears on a stalk. Little by little the wary villagers copy the new methods. The fundamentals of animal husbandry are also taught to both boys and girls. This includes the proper feeding and care of pigs and chickens and the construction of pens or coops with materials taken from the surrounding forests. The girls learn sewing and cooking, particularly the preparation of the produce from the fields. It is the emphasis in the instruction which changes according to the location. In Salitre, of the Bribris, cultivation is limited to such crops as yuccas, plantains, and rice. These can easily be grown in quantity on land that is not too good and can serve as food for human beings as well as for the pigs and chickens which form the chief elements of their economy. This is also true to a certain extent of the Tirrabas. The Cabdcares of Ujarras inhabit a fertile, beautiful valley. Here the school has developed truck gardening with the result that vegetables are frequently sent to augment the students' tables in Salitre, or sold in the neighbor- ing non-Indian village of Buenos Aires. Nearly every house in the community of Ujarras has its own vegetable patch. The Borucas, in contrast to the other tribes that live in houses scattered all over their territory, boast of having a town of the most picturesque nature. The Boruca school has cane, cotton, and vegetables, as well as a mill for making brown sugar. This has been a great stimulus for the local inhabitants. They have in- creased their own cane fields, use the mill, and in fact are begin- ning to feel that the school is a fundamental part of their life. The Borucas have an outstanding heritage in cotton weaving and weere famous in colonial times for purple cloth decorated with pat- terns in the single weft weave. The Spaniards demanded kilos of this material as tribute to be sent to the king and the pope. Classes in dyeing the cotton and in weaving have consequently formed part of the curriculum. The best pieces made by the towns- folk, as well as the students, are bought by the school to be sold at a small profit in the capital of the republic. Football, basketball, and baseball have been introduced in all the area, and also the custom of popular assemblies with songs, plays, and dances. This helps to take away the natural shyness living back in the forest-covered hills come to see the "magic" of corn resplendent with full ears instead of one or two poorly grained ears on a stalk. Little by little the wary villagers copy the new methods. The fundamentals of animal husbandry are also taught to both boys and girls. This includes the proper feeding and care of pigs and chickens and the construction of pens or coops with materials taken from the surrounding forests. The girls learn sewing and cooking, particularly the preparation of the produce from the fields. It is the emphasis in the instruction which changes according to the location. In Salitre, of the Bribris, cultivation is limited to such crops as yuccas, plantains, and rice. These can easily be grown in quantity on land that is not too good and can serve as food for human beings as well as for the pigs and chickens which form the chief elements of their economy. This is also true to a certain extent of the Trrabas. The Cabecares of Ujarras inhabit a fertile, beautiful valley. Here the school has developed truck gardening with the result that vegetables are frequently sent to augment the students' tables in Salitre, or sold in the neighbor- ing non-Indian village of Buenos Aires. Nearly every house in the community of Ujarras has its own vegetable patch. The Borucas, in contrast to the other tribes that live in houses scattered all over their territory, boast of having a town of the most picturesque nature. The Boruca school has cane, cotton, and vegetables, as well as a mill for making brown sugar. This has been a great stimulus for the local inhabitants. They have in- creased their own cane fields, use the mill, and in fact are begin- ning to feel that the school is a fundamental part of their life. The Borucas have an outstanding heritage in cotton weaving and were famous in colonial times for purple cloth decorated with pat- terns in the single weft weave. The Spaniards demanded kilos of this material as tribute to be sent to the king and the pope. Classes in dyeing the cotton and in weaving have consequently formed part of the curriculum. The best pieces made by the towns- folk, as well as the students, are bought by the school to be sold at a small profit in the capital of the republic. Football, basketball, and baseball have been introduced in all the area, and also the custom of popular assemblies with songs, plays, and dances. This helps to take away the natural shyness  160 The Caribbean 160 The Caribbean of the Indian and to prepare the individual to confront strange or different situations. II Salitre, the headquarters of this educational work, has a boarding school where the best students from all these communities are sent for more advanced preparation with the idea of forming both teachers and better developed citizens. This year, 1951, the day of national independence, September 15, saw the first graduating class and the initiation of a new and revolutionary custom. The Com- mittee of Indian Education has control over the lands inhabited by and surrounding all these peoples. No non-Indian can buy or live within this territory. In order to incorporate these groups even more into the national way of living, the school commenced this year to give to the male graduates both a diploma and a parcel of land in their own area which they and the committee's administrator, an agronomist, choose. A legal title goes with this land, but the owner cannot sell nor turn over his property for a five-year period, and in any case he must consult and roceive the approbation of the committee. Economic aid is given for the con- struction of his house, which is made of materials taken from the forest and his own surroundings, and for the first plantings. The individual is expected to select and save his seed for the future, and if he wants to enlarge or to start a new crop a small monetary advance is permitted. The Indian has the right to sell his produce to whomever he wishes, including the committee for use in the schools. Besides these gifts, every member of the graduating class receives a subscription to one or more agricultural magazines. Then are two prizes for the corresponding best students. The first consists of a pair of blooded hogs, and the second of a rooster and five fine chickens. The committee's administrator assumes from there on the role of tutor for all graduates, and presents a detailed report of their agricultural development at the end of each fiscal year. Annually, on graduation day, the Salitre school sponsors an agricultural .nd animal husbandry fair at which all Indians can participate. There are three divisions: swine, fowl, and agricul- tural products, with money for first prizes, and certificates of hon- of the Indian and to prepare the individual to confront strange or different situations. II Salitre, the headquarters of this educational work, has a boarding school where the best students from all these communities are sent for more advanced preparation with the idea of forming both teachers and better developed citizens. This year, 1951, the day of national independence, September 15, saw the first graduating class and the initiation of a new and revolutionary custom. The Com- mittee of Indian Education has control over the lands inhabited by and surrounding all these peoples. No non-Indian can buy or live within this territory. In order to incorporate these groups even more into the national way of living, the school commenced this year to give to the male graduates both a diploma and a parcel of land in their own area which they and the committee's administrator, an agronomist, choose. A legal title goes with this land, but the owner cannot sell nor turn over his property for a five-year period, and in any case he must consult and receive the approbation of the committee. Economic aid is given for the con- stroction of his house, which is made of materials taken from the forest and his own surroundings, and for the first plantings. The individual is expected to select and save his seed for the future, and if he wants to enlarge or to start a new crop a small monetary advance is permitted. The Indian has the right to sell his produce to whomever he wishes, including the committee for use in the schools. Besides these gifts, every member of the graduating class receives a subscription to one or more agricultural magazines. There are two prizes for the corresponding best students. The first consists of a pair of blooded hogs, and the second of a rooster and five fine chickens. The committee's administrator assumes from there on the role of tutor for all graduates, and presents a detailed report of their agricultural development at the end of each fiscal year. Annually, on graduation day, the Salitre school sponsors an agricultural a.nd animal husbandry fair at which all Indians can participate. There are three divisions: swine, fowl, and agricul- tural products, with money for first prizes, and certificates of hon- 160 The Caribbean of the Indian and to prepare the individual to confront strange or different situations. II Salitre, the headquarters of this educational work, has a boarding school where the best students from all these communities are sent for more advanced preparation with the idea of forming both teachers and better developed citizens. This year, 1951, the day of national independence, September 15, saw the first graduating class and the initiation of a new and revolutionary custom. The Com- mittee of Indian Education has control over the lands inhabited by and surrounding all these peoples. No non-Indian can buy or live within this territory. In order to incorporate these groups even more into the national way of living, the school commenced this year to give to the male graduates both a diploma and a parcel of land in their own area which they and the committee's administrator, an agronomist, choose. A legal title goes with this land, but the owner cannot sell nor turn over his property for a five-year period, and in any case he must consult and receive the approbation of the committee. Economic aid is given for the con- stroction of his house, which is made of materials taken from the forest and his own surroundings, and for the first plantings. The individual is expected to select and save his seed for the future, and if he wants to enlarge or to start a new crop a small monetary advance is permitted. The Indian has the right to sell his produce to whomever he wishes, including the committee for use in the schools. Besides these gifts, every member of the graduating class receives a subscription to one or more agricultural magazines. Then re two prizes for the corresponding best students. The first consists of a pair of blooded hogs, and the second of a rooster and five fine chickens. The committee's administrator assumes from there on the role of tutor for all graduates, and presents a detailed report of their agricultural development at the end of each fiscal year. Annually, on graduation day, the Salitr school sponsors an agricultural and animal husbandry fair at which all Indians can participate. There are three divisions: swine, fowl, and agricul- tural products, with money for first prizes, and certificates of hon-  CULTURE 161 CULTURE 161 CULTURE orary mention for the second place. Two consecutive certificates are equivalent to a first or money prize. The committee has engineers measuring the farms of all the Indians within the Salitre reservation with a view of registering these properties and giving each owner his plan and title. A population census, as well as a census of domesticated animals, is being carried out in connection with this. Little by little these once-forgotten people are coming forward to take their place in the daily life of their changing communities. The school is the focus, and even the older people gather there to learn to read, or sew, or take part in various festivities. It is hoped that eventually the need for a reservation will not exist, and that these people will be able to defend themselves and form a useful group within the Costa Rican republic. Meanwhile, the school carries on its normal educational functions and at the same time has taken a definite place within each indigenous center as "the house of the people," with the distinct task of, in truth, teaching the people how to live. orary mention for the second place. Two consecutive certificates are equivalent to a first or money prize. The committee has engineers measuring the farms of all the Indians within the Salitre reservation with a view of registering these properties and giving each owner his plan and title. A population census, as well as a census of domesticated animals, is being carried out in connection with this. Little by little these once-forgotten people are coming forward to take their place in the daily life of their changing communities. The school is the focus, and even the older people gather there to learn to read, or sew, or take part in various festivities. It is hoped that eventually the need for a reservation will not exist, and that these people will be able to defend themselves and form a useful group within the Costa Rican republic. Meanwhile, the school carries on its normal educational functions and at the same time has taken a definite place within each indigenous center as "the house of the people," with the distinct task of, in truth, teaching the people how to live. orary mention for the second place. Two consecutive certificates are equivalent to a first or money prize. The committee has engineers measuring the farms of all the Indians within the Salitre reservation with a view of registering these properties and giving each owner his plan and title. A population census, as well as a census of domesticated animals, is being carried out in connection with this. Little by little these once-forgotten people are coming forward to take their place in the daily life of their changing communities. The school is the focus, and even the older people gather there to learn to read, or sew, or take part in various festivities. It is hoped that eventually the need for a reservation will not exist, and that these people will be able to defend themselves and form a useful group within the Costa Rican republic. Meanwhile, the school carries on its normal educational functions and at the same time has taken a definite place within each indigenous center as "the house of the people," with the distinct task of, in truth, teaching the people how to live.  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