UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA CENTER FOR LATIN AMERICAN STUDIES GAINESVILLE, FLORIDA
VOLUME 10, NUMBER 2
DECEMBER 16, 1974
Francisco J. Gangotena G. is a doctoral student in A nthropology at the University of Florida, having recently completed the M.A. He has collaborated on a research project on ecological levels in the A ndes with John Murra, and has published the results of research on children who work in the streets of Quito. His Master's research was a study of the socio-economic system of an Ecuadorian Indian community. He began his investigation of Indian communities in Ecuador in 1966-196 7, when he worked for the Misio'n Andina. Later he spent five months working in Galte in 1973, specifically for the purpose of completing research for the Master's thesis. The following article is based on this research, which is filly reported in Mr. Gangotena's Master's thesis.
Agricultural development or increase in production are terms which enjoy popularity among people working for improved standards of living. A farmer who is able to bring more abundant and better products to the market has a better chance of getting a higher profit granted that the demand remains the same. Low profit is, therefore, a result of malfunctioning of the system of production either because of low technology, or both low technology and unbalanced ownership of the means of production. Based on these concepts it has been said that two groups with almost irreconcilable views confront each other today on the subject of agricultural development in Latin America: the technocrats and the reformers (Feder, 1971). The former are in favor of stimulating output and efficiency of production by channeling more resources into it, but without making major changes in the agrarian structure. The reformers, without being opposed to modern technologies, see barriers to efficient production in the existing agrarian structure. These two groups aim at a greater production which finally is equated with a higher profit in close connection with a market system. It is possible, however, to point out the existence of a third group, which looks for change of the existing structure in the ownership of the means of production and an improvement in production, but which has a different understanding of production
and change of structure from that of technocrats and reformers. People in the third group, which could be called "indigenous" we are referring to Indian peasant areas of Latin America are prone to assimilate techniques which will increase their agricultural production. due to their contact with "outside" cultures (mestizo and "white"). This production, however, is not understood in the framework of profit (gross production minus cost of production = profit), but rather in the context of a
-traditional socio-economic system, which will be reaffirmed through an increase in production.
When the reformers work for changing the "obsolete" structure, they have as a goal a ''re-arrangement" of the relations among producers, and consequently among distributors and consumers. They look for "new forms." The indigenous group, on the other hand, gears its efforts toward a recovery of old forms which, even though adapted to new circumstances, present marked and peculiar characteristics of their own.
A case study carried out in the highlands of Ecuador among the Indian group of Galte illustrates these concepts. Galte is a hacienda (25,850 acres) which lies on a sloped terrace in the southwestern corner of the province of Chimborazo, Ecuador. The valley of Palmira, and further north, the valley of Guamote, stretch at the foot of the hacienda. Galte resembles a balcony
)Agricultural Development and
i C '
A HUASIPUNGUERO FAMILY
facing the undulant and cold valley of Palmira. In these slopes live 1,680 Galtenos, Quichua speakers who are descendants of the Puruhaes.
It seems evident that during the Puruhi-Shyri period, and later during Inca domination, the individuals as such did not have a right to the land, but rather the ayllu (extended family) as a community was vested with the right to the usufruct of the land (Crist 1964: 3). The Spanish conquest brought new lords, and changed the over-all organization by the introduction of the encomienda system, but the socio-economic organization at the community and ayllu level was not altered.
Guamote, the small town in the valley on which the Galteiios depended, was given to the Agustinian priests by the Spanish authorities as an encomienda. The work and responsibility of the Agustinians encompassed not only religious aspects, but also organization of production. Thus, when obrajes (textile mills) were established in the town of Guamote after 1750, the Agustinians gleaned their labor force from the Indians. Initially, the friars controlled only the labor, but little by little, as they began to need more raw material, they also gained control of the Indians' heards or sheep in the paraino where the Indian communities were located; among them Galte. This led, naturally, to control of the land as well.
Due to "misbehavior" and "low moral standards" the Agustinians were expelled from the region of Guamote by Bishop Ordd-nez and the president of Ecuador, Garcia Moreno, in 1875. In the same year, a portion of the country of Guamote what today are the haciendas Galte and Tiprn was acquired by another group of priests, the Redentoristas (Redemptorists), as an immense hacienda. The Exploitative labor system, or concertao/e, remained the same as in the encomienda system under the Agustinians. At that time the Indians were supposed to work five days a week for the Redentoristas in exchange for a piece of land. This form of work received the name of huasipungo in 1918, when the concertaje system was abolished by law.
In 1905 the hacienda Galte passed to secular hands. The Indians were transferred with the whole hacienda. They suffered terribly at the hands of their new patron. Bruised, beaten, and exploited, the men could do nothing but sit by and watch as the patr6n' continually abused their wives and daughters.
The first violent confrontation took place in 1928 when the son of the patroln attempted to expel six of the huasipungueros (family-head dwelling in a huasipungo) for rebelliousness. He and a group of mestizos from Guamote who had accompanied him were met by nearly a thousand Indians armed with shovels and hoes in Chuquira (a section of the hacienda). The Indians succeeded in forcing the mestizos back. Although this action was not an "officially" organized levantaniento (uprising or revolt), it marks the beginning of group awareness for the Indians of Galte. Two years later, 1930, the six huasipungueros who the patron had tried to expell during the confrontation of Chuquira were finally forced off their lands with the help of the army and the authorities of the town of Palmira.
I I1 s )" f 0I thi kanis andI(1 the abuse of their women were constant blows which molded their leaders. It has been said that the leader is the product of circumstances and is the conscience of a human group in conflict. The leadership of one hIiasipunguero. Ambrosio Lasso, began to emerge in 1929. Due to "rebelliousness and lack of discipline" six huasipungueros lost their plots and land and were expelled from the neighboring hacienda of Pull in 1929; among them was Ambrosio Lasso. He was 27 years old. Within a year he returned to Pull. Six years later, after a con fron t ation with the ma'ordomno of the hacienda, he witnessed the rape of his wife by the hacienda employees. The same year, 1935, Ambrosio Lasso directed an uprising (Levantamiento de Pull) in which the roiting Indians killed two mayordomnos. This time, he was sent to jail on the Galtipogos Islands. Here he learned to read and write at the age of thirty-three. In 1936 he was released and went to Galte where, surprisingly, he was accepted by the patr6n. From this time on, the "Coronel Ambrosio Lasso" as he was known in the area led the Indians of the area and symbolized the fast tempo of Galte in the process of change. Soon Ambrosio Lasso became the liaison between the Galteffos and external organizations interested in changing the Indian situation.
The external influence of the Comit6 Central de Defensa lndi'gena and of the Federaci6n Ecuatoriana de Indios was felt first in the systematic huasipunguero meetings and second in the "official" protests made by Galtelios to the local authorities during the 1930's and 40's. By this time, the Galtenos began to present the local authorities in Palmira and Guamote, or the Labor Inspector in Riobamba, or even the Minister of Social Provision and Labor in Quito, with written complaints about the "rough working conditions" under which they were forced to work (A. Lasso's documents).
The Galtefios, after having formed a union, the Sindicato Agricola Campesino Galte (1952), made their first entrance into the legal terrain in 1958 with the presentation of a law suit against the patron in the Labor Inspection, because salaries had not been paid since 1953. The Galtei'os won their case. This victory gave the Indians confidence. On February 3, 1962 they returned to the Labor Inspection with an accusation containing twenty-eight points. The basic complaint was that the patron had not paid them their wages since 1959. Since their petitions were not heard by the patr6n, the Galteifos declared their
first hue/ga (strike) on August 23, 1962.
The first land reform law was passed in 1964. Although Galte's powerful Indian leader, Lasso, was pleased with the new law, he was not ready to accept it; or more specifically, to accept its terms. He seemed determined that, with a little more work, the Indians of Galte could receive the lands they wanted rather than having to settle for the inferior lands assigned to them by the patrdn through the resettlement clause of the law (article 67).
In 1966 a trial began between the patr6n and the Indians (who were defended by their communist lawyer). The Indians were fighting against resettlement; they wanted, in addition, compensation for the back wages and vacations they had never received. After three years the case was still in court. With the court case a stalemate, the Indians resorted to boycotting the harvest of the hacienda (worth between 20-30,000 dollars). Roads in and out of Galte were blocked. The mayordomo was forced to flee Galte. The patron was not allowed back on the land, and went bankrupt because of an old debt to the bank.
The blow had been given. After the strike, the patr6n was allowed to return to Galte; however, he was afraid to plant again. Thus, much of the land lay fallow for the next three years (1970-1973). The Indians slowly expanded the boundaries of their plots, taking over only what they were able to cultivate. The patrn had a hacienda he could not sell, he owed money to the bank, and even more, he had lost his position in Galte. Since 1970, the name of the owner of Galte was pronounced by the Galtenos without the title .'patr'n. '' The only exit left to the ex-patr6n was to try to sell the hacienda to the Instituto de Reforma Agraria (IERAC). After three years of government manipulation -- what has been called el bailey de los millones (IERAC: Marzo 9, 1971) Galte was bought by IERAC.
For the Galteiios the legal proceedings which followed the last strike have been of little importance. For them, the month of January, 1970, when the strike was over and the ''patron'' disappeared, was the day nukanchic kishpichishka karkanchic,
on which they walked inside the ex-patr6n's church, took La Virgen (statue of Our Lady), and moved her to their own Centro Cilico, so that their own celebrations (Carnaval and August) and their daily existence would take place on their own land.
The change of structure in the land tenure system of Galte had been the first step of what can be called "agricultural development" for these peasants, following the model of the reformers. The aspect which deserves special attention in the transformation in the ownership of the means of production in Galte is that the Indians have turned back to and reaffirmed their indigenous socio-economic system which existed in the area prior to the Inca conquest. It is a system which does not stress production in terms of market/profit, but rather emphasizes forms of reciprocity based on personal relationships.
Thus, when Galtefios talk about their "new way of life" and increment in production, they are not referring to an increase in profit in the market system. Their struggle during the last seventy years has had the goal of gaining control over the means of production, so that through an improved production of which they are in control they can strengthen their traditional socio-economic system.
The characteristics of this socio-economic system are basically three: self-sufficiency, lack of money, and emphasis on personal relations.
First, the socio-economic system of Galte is largely self-sufficient. Usually this type of system is equated with simplicity and economic independence, which implies isolation. Perhaps a better way to understand self-sufficiency is to define it as the capacity of a human group to satisfy basic needs within its own network without having to resort to other systems which create a situation of subordination. This non-subordination does not mean the independence of the component parts but rather a balanced interrelation of them in such a way that all parts need each other for survival.
The Galtefios can satisfy their basic needs within their own network and on their own terms.The huasipungos are not isolated units. Since they are located on different ecological levels and cultivate different products, in order to satisfy their necessities they must exchange products. This interaction is carried out both within Galte through three forms of cooperation or association, and outside through the external ihunti (another form of cooperation), which creates a dependence between the interacting parts (Gangotena, 1974). This dependence means complementarity and security. The huasipungo which is located on the lower ecological level needs to interact with the upper level and with the coastal region to complete its basic food supply. Furthermore, the interaction is needed in order to create a kind of insurance or security that the basic unit will have the basic products it requires if its crops fail due to natural calamities such as freezing, drought, or lancha (frostbite). Since the other levels plant at different times, under different ecological conditions, there is a chance of obtaining from another ecological level what they cannot get at home.
With regard to the second characteristic, there is no money involved in the indigenous economic system of Galte. In contrast to the Western economy, where production and exchange are based on numerically countable goods (money), the Indian economy is based on exchange of goods and labor without the use of money. The economy of Galte follows the
7'. ift -4
WORKING IN THE FIELDS OF GALTE
lines noted and discussed by John MIIrra when he talks about Andean indigenous systems: ". the traffic of Andean products from one ecological level to the others was not carried out through commerce, but through mechanisms which maximized the reciprocal use of human energies" (1973).
Third, the socio-economic system of Galte invests its excess production by capitalizing or building upon personal relations. In a society where money is not a basic means of exchange and markets are marginal, an opportunity for investment consists in the creation of stronger or new reciprocities. The more a huasipungo produces, the better opportunities it has to externalize its generosity and to institutionalize its hospitality. The effort expended to create obligations will have its pay-off later when the basic unit needs complementary products, labor, or even total help as in the case of disaster (death, sickness, loss of land, etc.).
In summary, it could be said either about the socio-economic system of Galte or any other that people tend to improve their efficiency in satisfying their wants. This efficiency depends partly on the means of production, technology, and relations of production. The technocrats focus their attention on technology only, the reformers and the indigenous group emphasize the three elements. Technocrats as well as reformers have as a general goal an increase in production for improvement in a market system; the third group, on the other hand, does not have as the goal of its struggle a better production as such. The goal of the indigenous group is rather to increase its production so that it can reaffirm its
autochthonous system based on personal (dvadic) relations of reciprocity.
Crist, Raymond E. "The Indian in the Andean America." Reprint
(1964) from The American Journal of Economics and Sociology,
V. XXIII. N. 2 and 3 (1964), pp. 131-143 and 303-314.
Feder, Ernest. The Rape of the Peasantry. Anchor Books, Garden
(1971) City, New York.
Gangotena, Francisco J. The Socio-Economic System of an Ecua(1974) dorean Indian Community. Master's Thesis presented
at the University of Florida, Gainesville.
IERAC. Secci6n Estadi'sticas. Archivo. Quito: Oficina Central.
Lasso, Ambrosio (documentos personales).
Murra, John V., "Los Li'mites y las limitaciones del archipilago
vertical en los Andes," papel presentado en el Congreso sobre el Hombre Andino, Arica, Chile (1973)
To T. Lynn Smith
The following article is a speech given by Dr. Sam Schulman on the occasion of the
retirement of T. Lynn Smith, Graduate Research Professor of Sociology at the University
of Florida, in June 1974. Dr. Schulman was the first person to receive the Ph.D. in
Sociology at the University of Florida, and studied under T. Lynn Smith. He is now in
the Sociology Department at the University of Houston.
It was in a cafe in Bogota, Colombia. I was there in 1963 to guest lecture at the Facultad de Sociologia of the National University and, shortly thereafter, to conduct a series of interviews at the Colombian Institute for Agrarian Reform. At my table were a small number of the profesoriat and a baker's dozen of the students of the Facultad. We were drinking a variety of aniseperfumed liquor-aguardiente-in shot glasses, nibbling at sweet chunks of fresh fruit. The quantities of both forms of nutrient were enormous and consumed with rapidity. (Parenthetically, I remember that the lecture I gave at the Facultad was delivered in a euphoric haze; of the interviews at the Institute I recall nothing, but subsequently I was told by a number of the interviewees-whom I later met under other circumstance-that they were both productive and quite jovial. That day ended with my absolute respect for Colombian nutrients, professors, and students, and with one of the most horrible hangovers I'd ever had in my life.)
It was in this cafe as I listened to the Colombians that I felt within me a rebirth of poetry. There was a melodic quality to the clear Spanish. There was a romance to the interlude, a most informal contact between teachers and students, enriching to both.
There was a vibrancy, an electricity, to what was being said with waving and gesticulating hands. And what was being said-that sociology is not, nor should it ever be, a discipline locked in a closet but should be attuned to the dynamism, the needs and wants, of people-this, too, was like a cool breeze on a sweaty summer day. All of these things blended into a poetry that was to stay with me long past the resultant hangover and, hopefully, is with me still.
I had begun as a poet, hardly a good one, but one filled with cravings, and love, and intensity, and words that tripped all over each other. I felt like a poet even if people seldom read-or understood, if they read-the jigsaw puzzles that were my poems. There was, I thought, something of a profundity to what I wrote-and some people saw it. But often the profundity I placed in my efforts was not the same profundity they saw. Truthfully, at times the profundity they saw was so much more profound than the profundity I meant. They were often more insightful and subtle than I. Even when I misspelled words or made typographical errors, they saw meaning in such things. In such a line as "Watch mankind in its wild efforts at salvation," where "salvation" became, through my typewriter, "salivation," and "wild" became "wilt,"
and "effort" became "effart"-in such errors they saw meaning. As an undergraduate at the University of New Mexico I was known for my poetic profundity, self-acknowledged and validated by significant others. I was, I guess, at that time well on my way to being a third-rate William Carlos Williams or E.E. Cummings. In those days I scoffed at science, the invader of humanity's symbiosis with its environment, the producer of the death machines I had ridden short years before which indiscriminately spewed gas-gel and a nuclear holocaust upon already beaten and exhausted cities, the chief monitor of regimented minds. And social science I saw as a pitifully small and ulcerated ear or tail of the scientific sow. Human engineers, slide rules stuck into their shirt pockets as membership badges in a reprehensible fraternity, deeply disturbed my poetic soul. Social science brought forth visions of soul-regimentation, the absolute antithesis of the soulfreedom of poetry.
This does not mean I did not play the game of science/academics. I did, and fairly well. But it was a facade behind which I belittled those who took it, and themselves, seriously. There were a couple of people I liked who played the game from the other side of the lectern-Paul Walters and Lyle Saunders, sociologists-but I could see through their facades and I sensed the poetry within them. I felt their kinship for the human spirit. So for years I lived unfettered, free as my verse, a Jonathan Livingston Seagull of the late 1940's. There were rare moments when I stopped in my flight to watch some significant event or remark upon some special thing that may not have fit exactly into my personal scheme. I read hungrily: novels, other peoples' poetic endeavors, publications of the then-Left, my text-books. There was a thick book on Brazil, a country I did not know, that had been assigned as a text. I read it, and I read it again. It was not poetic. It was succinctly worded, almost parsimonious in style, quasiencyclopedic. Upon reading it I knew a true learning experience. It was a pleasant, enriching stop in my overall flight pattern. I wrote a note to its author, a Professor T. Lynn Smith at Vanderbilt University, the first, the only, fanletter I have ever written to anyone. I thought that this professor (who undoubtedly carried a slide rule in his pocket) might like to hear from a student who admired his work, from a poet who took time out from his poesy. This began a series of communications and personal contacts that was to last a quarter of a century and, if the Powers will, may last another quarter of a century.
In 1950, with the acquisition of a master's degree, sojourns in Chile and Mexico, and unsuccessful ventures of a poet selling shoes, teaching school, and exterminating houses in Miami intervening, those contacts with Professor Smith resulted in my arrival in Gainesville with my wife, my guitar (all poets generally carry guitars), and a duffle bag containing all of our material possessions. Deeply suspicious of sociology-but not of Professor Smith-I could scarcely imagine that I would be the first Ph.D. in sociology to graduate from the University of Florida. It was a tentative venture, the adventure of a free spirit testing what had to be an inimical environment. It was not. Sociology encompassed the third-rate poet and Professor Smith aggrandized his potential.
Perhaps at this point I should take the time necessary to describe the accomplishments of T. Lynn Smith, for this dinner in his honor. If I told you of that boy from the Colorado mountains who worked with his strong back and keen mind to become one of the
most important figures in American sociology and in American higher education. I am not telling you something you do not already know. But I would hazard a guess that not all of you know how Professor Smith aggrandized the potential of a third-rate poet, and for my sake and that of the teacher whom we honor, I think you should.
Let me return to those days of the early 1950's when first I tramped the stairs of Peabody Hall. There were a few around then who hardly fit the description I had in my mind's eye of sociologists. John Maclachlan, who loved good music, good liquor, who loved to watch kids play sand-lot baseball, who could rarely remember where he parked his car, and who was a living repository of the sociology of southern folklore. Winston Ehrmann, who took ill occasionally of an undefined recurrent tropical ailment, who could relate with compassion the travails of the people of Southeast Asia with whom he lived and worked in the war, and who was one of the first sociologists to ask meaningful questions about sex on campus. There were others but, above all, there was T. Lynn Smith. There were others at the apogee of distinguished careers, others whose names were yet to be known widely-others who taught me, but I had one Teacher who moulded me. Like most students, I have grown out of that initial mould but its configurations are always discernible in whatever I do in my professional life.
Some of Professor Smith's students (a very few) were as illequipped as I to undertake advanced studies in sociology. I must have been a prime case. I know I required much attention and guidance. All students who have come under Professor Smith's tutelage require attention and guidance, and he responds to all of them. I needed more: he responded more. There was no phase of my academic endeavor and very little of my life beyond the classroom or laboratory that did not come under his surveillance. When requested, his help was there. Even when not requested, his help was there. How well I recall the many times when, working with the unkown intricacies of the calculator or, yea! the slide rule, a somewhat flushed friendly face with frowning eyes would appear at my shoulder and a soft voice would say, "No, dammit, Sam'l. That's not the way to do it. Let me show you how." The lessons of T. Lynn Smith were disciplined, devoid of frills, direct. Above all, there was a kindness to this professor who was to me, as to his other students, a paternal figure. A demanding parent, but one filled with a love for his discipline and vast compassion for those whom he led into and through its numerous articulated parts. And when times were rough-scholarly times and personal times-there was no activity in his heavy schedule that held higher priority than a father-and-son chat with a student. I remember such troubled times, and I also remember his strong Colorado-wrangler's hand on my shoulder. This was, this is, the man, my teacher.
And what was it that he taught me? Well, there were some things about sociology and some things about life. There was, of course, the substance of the discipline and I do not negate that, but much of the substance of a discipline can be absorbed through many teachers, a good deal without teachers at all. I speak here of the tenor, the feel, the integration of substance and structure and spirit of the discipline. In this light, here are some of the things he taught me.
Ihat sociology is hard work. There may x be a few academi es
who have written more, read more, travelled and observed more, taught more to more students over a greater period of time. There may be a few-damned few! There is probably no one who takes the Protestant work ethic more seriously than T. Lynn Smith. God, Professor Smith must believe, gave us brains and muscle to do with, and Professor Smith has spent his entire life following God's mandate in this regard. As he works so he demands of those who work with him. The least comfortable place for a practicing sociologist is an easy chair when there is something left undone. Sociology should tax the basic tools within the sociologist's tool-kit-inquisitiveness, knowledge, and the application of knowledge-and it is not a
job for dilettantes.
That esoteric sociology is a luxury. The human condition and
the problems associated with it preclude at this point in time excessive grand theorizing. The sociological practitioner has much to do getting his hands dirty in the groves and at the grass roots, and has yet much to do at that level before he can plot effectively a map or formulate a model into which the
dynamism of humanity will completely fit.
That, along with his basic tools, there is a modality to which
the sociologist must conform. That modality marries an essential pragmatism with compassion for one's fellows. The sociologist without compassion is an automation, a poor cog.
To encapsule these lessons (as seen by the young third-rate poet): there is a poetry that is grander than words, for it is life itself, and the sociologist is blessed to be so close to it. Through this man, my teacher, I learned this. I ceased depending upon my word poems and learned to participate in the grander poem. For this I thank him.
In 1954. almost exactly 20 years go, I received my degree. I launched into the academic milieu. Gradually I was drawn into the grind: the many preparations for classes, the innumerable comittees, the cranking out of publications, the small steps up the academic ladder. In a decade I found myself losing the poetic sense I had known in graduate school. I had become a fairly effective cog.
But that cafe in Bogota blew fresh air into my lungs. It bears note that part of Professor Smith's impact has been in Latin America and among Latin Americans, and the Dean of the Facultad de Sociologia was Orlando Fals Borda, my fellow student at Florida. Fals kept his poetry alive. It permeated his institution, its professors, its students, and, by a circuitous route, came back to me.
T. Lynn Smith is first a good man. He is then a great man, a great man who has shared his greatness with his colleagues and, above all, with his students. "I think continually of those who were truly great," wrote a first-rate poet of words, Stephen Spender. He wrote:
I think continually of those who were truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history Through corridors of light where the hours are suns,
Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition
Was that their lips, still touched with fire,
Should tell of the Spirit, clothed from head to foot in song.
Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields,
See how these names are feted by the waving grass
?\nid b the streamers of Nhite cloud
And whispers of wind in the listening sky.
The names of those who in their lives fought for life,
Who wore at their hearts the fire's centre.
Born of the sun, they travelled a short while toward the sun
And left the vivid air signed with their honour.
In your distinguished career, Lynn, you have, indeed, left the vivid air signed with your honor. My teacher, we here, as well as your colleagues and students around this globe, are proud to have been touched by it.
Latin American Studies:
Felicity M. Trueblood is Assistant Professor of History and Latin American Studies at the University of Florida, and coordinator of the Latin A merican Curriculum Development Program The following article also appeared in Dialogo, Center for Latin American Studies, University of Florida, Volume 1, 4 (1974), under the title "A Perspective on Latin A merican Studies."
"Why Latin American Studies in schools, colleges, and universities?" is a commonly asked question. My rejoinder would simply be, why not? Or. as climbers often answer when asked to explain the fatal attraction of Everest or lesser mountain deities, because Latin America is there.
Latin America is there, very much there, and very much with us. To believe that half of this hemisphere can cheerfully divorce itself from the other half is absurd. Yet, this absurdity has been perpetuated in the schools, with courses in world culture areas being devoted to Asia, Africa, and Europe in preference to Latin America. One might be tempted to credit this to the battle of the exotic, except for the inclusion of Europe in so many curricula.
Latin Americanists have unfortunately cooperated in this conspiracy, consciously or unconsciously. For decades, our profession has ignored the opportunities presented by primary and secondary school curricula, and, indeed, has in some cases been actively hostile to the notion that Latin American Studies can begin at any time, from kindergarten through graduate school. Latin Americanists have huddled together at the college and university level, often outcasts from their own disciplinary departments, departments which have delighted in alleging that Latin American Studies is an inferior if not nonexistent discipline, staffed by incompetent, ill-trained pesonnel.
Many Latin Americanists acquiesced in this evaluation, until, let us say, about 1960, when new publics began to be attracted to the field in growing numbers. Changing dependency relationships. and the rise of a new and urgent mythology, Third Worldism, have certainly aided in this process. But, giving credit where credit is due. I believe that much of the change has been caused by the growing numbers of sophisticated, committed, well-trained men and women who have been attracted to the field. Joining older colleagues, who have so long labored unheralded and unsung, they have combined to form a profession with a new sense of mission and vitality and a vast new perspective.
Almost everything is now grist for the Latin Americanist's mill. No discipline is safe, no area of human behavior sacrosanct or
i\ iolatc. On thi growing \wavc of illveomcicnt anid comimitiune t Ima be s n the in jii Amcricanist everywhere-from schools and universities to public sector jobs in the U.S., as well as abroad. Events of recent years have taught us that the U.S. is also en vias de desarrollo and the experience of Latin America has increasing relevance in this country. It is no surprise, then. that more and more LAS graduates are going into such U.S. fields as planning at the state and regional level, urban agencies of all kinds and stripes, and, woe betide. the schools. A number of LAS Ph.D.'s are now working very successfully and productively at the elementary and secondary school level, serving as shock troops for what 0nic hopes will be a rising tide of school-district commitment to the notion that Latin Anierica is important, most important.
We in the profession are indebted to these pioneers, though. to be honest. we must also credit a declining job market in areas which historically have employed LAS graduates. This decline at the university level, for example, niay turn out to be a great blessing. For it is, of course, as we make our profession constructive, meaningful, and, if I may. relevant. that the utility of LAS increases. We thus become not simply purveyers of esoz6rica or exotica.
One detects a new sense of pride, individual and collective, in our profession, a sense of' pride long lacking and sorely needed if we are to achieve our historic public goals: interest in and awareness of Latin America oti its own terms, for its own sake; renovation of' Western hemisphere societies, North and South; greater appreciation of cultural diversity and language; destruction of that geographic and spiritual isolation which is so corrosive to Its all; judicious assessment of the national security needs, actual and perceived, of all Western Hemisphere republics, not just the U.S.; and continuing dialogue. A tall order, this, but one increasingly possible to achieve.
New and Expanded
Three new or expanded instructional activities have been initiated by the Center and associated departments. The first of these is a special program with a B.A./B.S. Certificate in Brazilian area and Portuguese language studies. The requirements are identical to those for the Latii American Certificate, except that the area studies will be focused on Brazil and the language studies oi Portuguese. The program began in Fall quarter 1974. Candidates for the Master of Arts degree in Latin American Studies (M.A.L.A.S.) may also, if they wish, choose to concentrate on the Brazilian area and the Portuguese language in selecting courses to satisfy the degree requirements.
The second new activity, which began in Winter quarter 1974. is an accelerated course in Portuguese (PE 301). It is open to students who already have a good command of Spanish or French, and is designed to prepare students for Portuguese courses at the 300 level or higher after one quarter of intensive study.
The third activity leads to a non-thesis M.A. degree in Anthropology. The intent of the program is to prepare students for non-academic positions where anthropological training in combination with other fields will be of use. Initial emphasis will be oti the trans-disciplinary areas of public archeology, agriculture, education, health, and urban and regional Studies.
The Center also began in Spring quarter 1974 to participate in the Academic Common Market, which is an interstate agreement among Southern states for sharing unusual graduate programs. Nuclear Engineering, Astronomy, and the Master of Arts in Latin American Studies at the University of Florida have been selected for inclusion ill the program. University systems from the states of Kentucky, Tennessee, and West Virginia have chosen the Master of Arts in Latin American Studies as an approved Academic Common Market program.
The center for Latin American Studies announces the publication of two new books: FiscaelPolicyi /rlndostriolization and Develop ent in Latin America, by David Geithman. anid Anazon Town, by Charles Wagley.
The National Meetings of the American Anthropological Association were held in Mexico City this year from November 1924, and were attended by many Latin Aiericanists from the University of Florida. Sy mposia were organized by Dr. S. Jeffrey K. Wilkerson. Assistant Curator, Florida State Museum, and Dr. Paul Doughty. Chairman of the Anthropology Department. Papers were read by Dr. William Carter, Director of the Center for Latin American Studies, Dr. Wilkerson, Dr. Elizabeth Wing, Associate Curator, Florida State Museum, Dr. Samuel Proctor, Distinguished Service Professor of History and Social Sciences and Curator of History at the Florida State Museum. Dr. Maxine Margolis, Assistant Professor of Anthropology, Dr. Anthony Oliver-Smith, Assistant Professor of Social Sciences and Anthropology, Dr. Mary Anna Baden. Assistant Professor of Sociology. and by Nora C. England. Skippy Boynton, Andrew Miracle. Gary Brana-Shute, William True, Joan True. Robert Werge. Emilio Moran, graduate students in Anthropology, and by Mary Derrick. graduate student in Linguistics. Dr. Theron Nunez. Associate Professor of Anthropology, was a discussant in a syIiposiu iI.
The Meetings of the Latin American Studies Association were held in San Francisco on November 14-16 and were attended by Dr. Paul Doughty, outgoing President and Chairman of the Anthropology Department. Ms. Felicity Trueblood, Executive Secretary and Assistant Professor of History and Latin American Studies, Dr. William Carter. Director of the Center for Latin American Studies, Mr. Roy Craven. Director of the University Gallery, Dr. Maxine Margolis, Assistant Professor of Anthropology and a member of the Committee on Women of the Latii American Studies Association. Dr. Ramona Rush. Director of the Communication Research Center, and by graduate students Howard Tupper and Kathy Ewel. Roy
Cra\ en presettted a photographic exhibit on the Maya, Ramona Rush chaired a roundtable on communication research on Latin America, and Howard Tupper and Kathy Ewel made a presentation of current research.
Dr. Clemens Hallman. Associate Professor of Foreign Language Education and Romance Languages, spoke at the Southern Conference on the Teaching of Languages in Atlanta on October 11 on "Teaching Cultural and Cross-Cultural Values.'
Dr. Irene Zimmerman. Latin American Librarian, announces that the library has recently acquired three new atlases of interest to Latin Americanists. They are atlases of Peru, Surinam, and Cuba, and are located in the Latin American Rading Room. Ms. Helen Armstrong, the new Map Librarian, has organized the map library on the first floor, Library East, and is interested in acquiring more maps of Latin America.
Dr. William G. Tyler, Assistant Professor of Economics, has recently returned from a leave of absence in West Germany, where he was Senior Fellow and Visiting Professor at the Kiel Institue of World Economics, Kiel University. While in Kiel he completed work on a fourth book entitled Manu.fictured Export Expansion
and In do.Itriolizanoion in Bra:i. sCehel(tted for publication in 1975. Journal articles within the past 'year, dealing mostly with Brazilian economic development, have included contributions published in The Journal of Development Studies, Revista Brasileira de Economia. Oxflrd Economic Papers. Revista de Estudios Econlmicos. Economic Development and Cultural Change, International Organization, Perquisa e Planejamento Econ6nico, Economic Internazionale. and other professional journals.
Dr. David Denslow, Assistant Professor of Economics, will present a paper to the Southwestern Latin American History Association Conference in April on 'The Applicability of the Fogel-Engerman Approach to Slavery in Latin America.," The commentator will be Robert Fogel.
Dr. Graciela Coulson, Assistant Professor of Romance Languages,
attended the Meetings of the Modern Language Association in December in New York City. Recent publications include "Leopold Marechal: La aventura metafisica." Hispame'rica. College Park, Md., AIlo Ill. No. 7 (1974), and "Los cuentos de Ribeyro, Primer encuentro," Cuadernos Americanos, Mexico, A'io XXXIII, No. 4 (julio-agosto 1974).
The title of the 25th Latin American Conference is "The First American Speak Up,'' rather than "The First Americans Talk Back," as reported in the previous issue of the Latinamericanist. The general public is welcome as observers in sessions from Monday to Thursday, February 17 to 20. These sessions will consist of morning seminars with government officials from the participating nations and afternoon sessions in which government officials will meet with indigenous leaders. All sessions will be conducted in Spanish. The general public is encouraged to attend the last day of the Conference, Friday, when a final public session will be held and simultaneous translation will be provided.
Dr. Bohdan Saciuk, Associate Professor of Spanish and Portuguese and Linguistics, is co-organizer of the second colloquium on Hispanic Linguistics to be held at the colloquiun on Hispanic Linguistics to be held at the Linguistic Institute this summer at the University of South Florida.
Dr. Andris Suarez, Professor of Latin American Studies, has been appointed to the editorial board of Cuban Studies, a journal to be published by the Center of Latin American Studies at the University of Pittsburgh.
[his public document was promulgated at an annual cost of $2,372, or $.475 per copy to inform interested persons of the activities of the Center for Latin American Studies.
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