Caribbean Review

PA

B

SCertificate

1Caribbean-

Latin American

Studies

College of Arts and Sciences
Florida International University
* Over 55 Caribbean and Latin
American related courses offered
from ten departments in the College
of Arts and Sciences.
* Certificate requirements include:
successful completion of five
Caribbean and/or Latin American
related courses and one independent
study/research project, from at least
three departments; demonstration
of related language proficiency in

Spanish, Portuguese, or French.
* Certificate program is open to both
degree and non-degree seeking
students.
* Expanded University support through
special "Program of Distinction"
status awarded to Caribbean-Latin
American Studies.
* Expanded Library holdings in
Caribbean-Latin American materials.
* Periodic campus visits from
distinguished scholars in Caribbean
and Latin American studies.

Caribbean-Latin American Studies Faculty
Ricardo Arias, Philosophy and Religion Ramon G. Mendoza, Modern Languages
Ken 1. Boodhoo, International Relations Raul Moncarz, Economics
judson M. DeCew, Political Science Peter j. Montiel, Economics
Barry B. Levine, Sociology Mark B. Rosenberg, Political Science
Anthony P. Maingot, Sociology Reinaldo Sanchez, Modern Languages
James A. Mau, Sociology Mark D. Szuchman, History
Florentin Maurrasse, Physical Sciences Maida Watson-Breslin, Modern Languages

For further information,
contact:

Mark Rosenberg
Caribbean-Latin American Studies Council
Florida International University
Tamiami Trail
Miami, Florida 33199

Although dormant for a bit, Caribbean Review reawakens at a time when
interest in the Caribbean and Latin America is booming. We hope to once
again help satisfy that interest; that's our part in the boom.
This journal was founded in 1969 in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Our files have
been relocated, we type our lists elsewhere, our address has changed.
We now count heavily on the intellectual resources of Florida Interna-
tional University rather than those of the University of Puerto Rico which
we used to call upon so frequently.
Amidst the changes, amidst the interruptions, there are constants, how-
ever, that do not change.
We remain committed to the Caribbean, Latin America, and their emi-
grant groups.
We remain interested in the broad range of concerns from politics, eco-
nomics, geography, anthropology-through language, history and philos-
ophy-to science (hard and soft), and art (written, verbal, visual, and per-
forming.) As before, we intend to comment on books, cinema, drama.
We accept no restrictions on our intellectual playing field; we haven't
before, we do not now. We consider our product to be science and art,
scholarship and journalism; at once both humanistic and social scientific.
With malice and forethought, we intend to make it difficult for the Intel-
lectual Bookkeepers to narrow us down. It's their problem. Watch 'em
fidget.
Nor has our editorial policy deviated from what we said way back in
Volume One, Number One: "Caribbean Review is open to all writers of
all persuasions. We want opinionated articles. But we will not permit the
Review to serve as a medium for polemic of an uninformed demagogic
nature... We are prejudiced against: pomposity, holier-than-thouness,
obfuscation, irrelevant footnotes, and graceless, unwarranted insults; al-
though the graceful, warranted kind are always welcome. Most every
other quirk, including a faith in the evolution and perfection of mankind
will be tolerated."
Amen!
Now, as to the rebirth...
The mid-wife of the happening is the Student Government Association
of FIU. At their iniative and through their financial support, in conjunction
with the Office of Academic Affairs, Caribbean Review begins anew.
The list of proud parents can be read underneath the masthead. Especially
proud godparents include the artists from FlU's Office of University
Publications.
Readers who want to remember what we've done before can look over
the index to the first six volumes that appears in the last pages of this
issue. Those six volumes represent a virtual storehouse of intellectual
goodies. John Stuart Mill and Thomas Carlyle once wrote for us!
Next issue promises even more valuable materials. Among them will be
Tony Maingot's discussion of the future of the University of the West
Indies, Mark Rosenberg's discussion of the building of that canal, Herb
Hiller will be back with his off-beat commentary on Caribbean tourism,
and much more...
This issue, after what seemed like a long nap, will re-awaken our reader-
ship to the realities and current issues of the Caribbean and Latin Amer-
ica. Bermuda, Belize, Cuba, Colombia, Jamaica, Puerto Rico, are visited.
And back for your information is our listing of recent books.
We are proud of this issue. It is informative, educational, entertaining,
enjoyable and well-written.
Enjoy.

CAlBBCAN

...born again

in '78

The covers an oil on linen painting by Cundo
Bermudez, entitled "Mujer Peinando Su Amante."
Cundo Bermudez, born in Cuba in 1914, now lives
in Puerto Rico. Courtesy of the Metropolitan
Museum and Art Centers, Miami, Florida; from the
Martinez-Ca'as Collection.
CArBEAN trVIEW /1

Strictly an off-beat establishment operated
by a unique proprietor for other non-
conformists, the Oloffson has become the
darling of the world's intelligentsia over the
years.
The Oloffson attracts most of its guests
through recommendations of those who
have stayed before. Less than 10% of its
business comes from travel agents. An
average stay is about ten days.
The Grand Hotel Oloffson was described by
a noted travel writer as, "the darling of the
theater people and the literary set."

HOTEL

IBO LELE
(Pronounced Lay-lay)

Elevation. 1575 teet-located 10 minutes from
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private banquet and convention hail for 70
guests electric plant to ensure light and hot
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ALL MAJOR CREDIT CARDS ACCEPTED
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2/ CAPBBCEAN FEVIEW

Port-Au-Prince, Haiti

The setting lends itself to the atmosphere.
The Oloffson seems strictly a figment of
Charles Addams (a frequent guest)
imagination. A nightmare of 19th century
design, the huge mahogany house is festooned
from the zigzag entrance staircase to the
spires, cupolas and towers on the hundred-
sided roof with every filigree, scroll, dado
and fretwork known to Victorian builders.

GRAND HOTEL
OLOFFSON
P.O. Box 675,
Port-au-Prince,
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.-- came: -o the ti-el -t ith its
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R-K -epresented b.
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GEOR;GE R. SMITH

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0
April/May/June 1978
Two Dollars
Vol. VII No. 2

Editor
Barry B, Levine
Associate Editor
Pedro J. Montiel
Contributing Editors
Ricardo Arias
Ken Boodhoo
Jerry Brown
Judson M. DeCew
Robert E. Grosse
Herbert L. Hiller
Gordon K. Lewis
Anthony P. Maingot
James A. Mau
Florentin Maurrasse
Raul Moncarz
Mark B. Rosenberg
Mark D. Szuchman
Bibliographer
Marian Goslinga

SBBCAN
Ptview

Art Director
Susan Alvarez
Staff Artist
Juan Urquiola
Editorial Manager
Eugenia Edelstein
Editorial Assistants
Marta Casas
Maribel Villasante
Publishing Consultants
Andrew R. Banks
Eileen Marcus
Advertising Consultants
Joe Guzman
Rosa Santiago
Rolando Villanueva

Office Manager
Patricia Dunne

Caribbean Review, a quarterly journal dedicated to
the Caribbean, Latin America, and their emigrant
groups, is published by Caribbean Review, Inc., a
corporation not for profit organized under the laws
of the State of Florida. Caribbean Review receives
supporting grants from the Student Government
Association and the Office of Academic Affairs of
Florida International University and the State of
Florida. This public document was promulgated
at a quarterly cost of $3.434 or $1.72 per copy to
promote international education with a primary
emphasis on creating greater mutual understanding
among the Americas, by articulating the culture
and ideals of the Caribbean and Latin America, and
emigrating groups originating therefrom.
Mailing address: Caribbean Review, Florida Inter-
national University, Tamiami Trail, Miami, Florida
33199. Telephone: (305) 552-2246. Unsolicited
manuscripts (articles, essays, reprints, excerpts,
translations, book reviews, poetry, etc.) are welcome
but should be accompanied by a self-addressed
stamped envelope. Copyright 1978 by Caribbean
Review, Inc. All rights reserved.
Subscription rates: 1 year: $8.00; 2 years: $15.00;
3 years: $20.00. 25% less in the Caribbean and Latin
America. Air Mail: add $3.00 per year. Payment in
Canadian currency or with checks drawn frombanks
outside the U.S. add 10%. Invoicing charge: $2.00.
Subscription agencies please take 15%.
Back Issues: Vol. 1, No. 1, Vol. 1I, No. 2; Vol. III,
No. 1, No. 3, No. 4; Vol. V, No. 3; Vol. VI, No. 1 are
out of print. All other back numbers: $3.00 each.
Microfilm and microfiche copies of Caribbean
Review are available from University Microfilms, A
Xerox Company, 300 North Zeeb Road, Ann Arbor,
Michigan 48106.
International Standard Serial Number:
PRISSN 0008-6525; Library of Congress Number:
AP6, C27; Dewey Decimal Number: 079.7295.

Anatomy of a Riot 4
On Bermuda's politics of race
Frank E. Manning

Belize Among Her Neighbors 13
The Guatemala-Belize
border dispute
A. E. Thorndike

The Sacred Drums
of the Lucumi 20
The most important drums of the
Afro-Cuban people
Roberto Nodal

The Informer 24
A psychological short story
Ren6 Marques
Translated by Charles R. Pilditch

Dreams of Integration 28
The Antilles Confederation, Pan
Africanism, and other movements
promoting Caribbean integration
O. Carlos Stoetzer

The Harder They Come 33
A film review of the banned
Jamaican film
Julianne Burton

A Caribbean Carnival
of Abundance 38
A review of Garcia M&rquez's master
myth, The Autumn of the Patriarch
Ram6n Mendoza

Living the Revolution 44
Oscar Lewis's three first-person
testimonials on the Cuban revolution
Surveyed by Francine Daner

In Re: The West Indies 49
Sir Fred Phillips' book on law and
liberty in the Caribbean
Reviewed by Gordon K. Lewis

Sugar High 52
A review of a recent book on the
sugar industry which challenges our
most cherished beliefs
Jorge I. Dominguez

Recent Books 54
An informative listing of books about
the Caribbean, Latin America, and
their emigrant groups
Marian Goslinga

Index 59
Volumes One through Six
CAr?BBAN rIVIE7 /3

WW

m

co

OM

L._

By Frank E. Manning BERMUDA'S POLITICS OF RACE

Bermuda's race riot in December
1977 --its third in a decade-- attract-
ed worldwide publicity. The exodus
of frightened tourists was for a week
offset by the arrival of news report-
ers from North America and Europe.
Most of them correctly interpreted
the episode as an expression of black
rage against an intractable white
power structure, animated by a
partisan political clash that is also
essentially racial. But what they did
not see is that the system of racial
politics, while periodically produc-
ing riots, works normally to rein-
force the stability, conservatism,
and tranquillity for which the coun-
try is renowned. Bermuda's politics
of race produces these opposite
results because it is not only what
it seems, but also the negation of it.

Death and Destruction
At dawn on Friday, December 2,
1977, the Government of Bermuda
hanged two black convicted mur-
derers: Erskine "Buck" Burrows and
Larry Winfield Tacklyn. Brought to
trial in the summer of 1976, the two
were originally charged as conspir-
ators in the assassinations of Gov-
ernor Sir Richard Sharpies and Po-
lice Commissioner George Duckett,
both white and British. Riddled with
incongruities, the trial was disquiet-
ing and bizarre from the start. Gov-
ernment's case had taken more than
4/ CAPBBCAN FrVlEW

three years to build. Apart from a
confession allegedly signed by Bur-
rows from his prison cell, it rested
on circumstantial evidence. Key
witnesses such as Sharpies' guests
at a dinner party on the evening of
his assassination were never called
to testify. Close associates of Bur-
rows and Tacklyn--many of them
veterans of a radical paramilitary
group that flourished in the early
1970s--were not charged, presuma-
bly for lack of evidence. Some of the
group were said to have left the is-
land, but there were no extradition
proceedings.

Burrows came to court clutching
a Bible but maintaining absolute
silence throughout the trial and re-
fusing defense counsel. Tacklyn re-
tained the services of lan Ramsey,
a Jamaican Queen's Counsel, and
Lois Browne, who is also the leader
of the Progressive Labour Party
(PLP), Bermuda's black parliamen-
tary opposition.Burrows was convict-
ed by a racially mixed jury and sen-
tenced to death by Judge Earle
Seaton, a black Bermudian. Tacklyn
was acquitted.

In the fall Tacklyn and Burrows
were again tried, this time for the
murder of two white civilians in a
1973 supermarket holdup. Both
were convicted and sentenced to
death. Tacklyn appealed and lost,
and was subsequently denied a re-

prieve by the Prerogative of Mercy
Committee.
A final attempt to stay the execu-
tion involved a mass protest and
another legal appeal. The protest,
which began months before with
public forums and a petition cam-
paign instigated by the PLP, built
to a crescendo as the movement
acquired the support of several black
groups, including the churches,
the labor union, and various profes-
sional bodies. The week before the
hanging was marked by packed
church vigils and massive outdoor
rallies.
In the legal appeal, which lasted
into the night of December 1st, Lois
Browne was joined by lawyer Julian
Hall, a black Bermudian who is also
secretary of the ruling United Ber-
muda Party (UBP) but a vocal op-
ponent of capital punishment. It was
the failure of this appeal that trig-
gered the first wave of violence
among a black youth mob waiting
outside the Supreme Court with
sticks and molotov cocktails. Dis-
persed by police tear gas, they beat
a path of destruction through the
back streets of Hamilton. Their
chief targets--which were firebombed
or smashed but not looted--were
commercial properties owned by
whites or blacks associated with
the UBP. Included were several busi-
nesses that are part of the family
empire of Premier David Gibbons,
a white.

Another target of arson was the
plush Southampton Princess Hotel,
where a fire killed two American
tourists and a Bermudian service
worker. The hotel dominates the
east view from the penitentiary
where Burrows and Tacklyn spent
their confinement, and was report-
edly the residence of the imported
hangman who would take their lives
only hours after the fire.
Following the hanging on Friday
morning, Government moved to
halt the violence by declaring a state
of emergency and imposing a dusk
to dawn curfew. But the firebomb-
ing and destruction continued, al-
though rather less openly, on Friday
night. On Saturday afternoon a
crowd of angry blacks gathered on
Court Street, the center of Hamil-
ton's notorious "back of town" dis-
trict and the riot of 1968. A few cars
were stoned, a white cyclist was at-
tacked, and a fire started in a bakery
run by the Black Muslims, a group
to whom militant black Bermudians
have shown ambivalent feelings
since their recent overture to whites
and a subsequent internal split.

The Court Street mob was esti-
mated at 500, about the size of Ber-
muda's regular and reserve police
forces combined. Despite the de-
ployment of the 350-strong Ber-
muda Regiment, the island military
unit, it was decided to request Brit-
ish troops. The first contingent was
flown in from Belize, where they
were guarding the Guatemala bor-
der. Hours later a second group ar-
rived directly from England.
A severe rainstorm curtailed
street activity on Saturday night,
effectively ending the most serious
phase of the rioting. Bi-partisan
pleas for the cessation of violence
had a further sobering effect, mak-
ing Sunday relatively quiet and lead-
ing to the gradual lifting of the cur-
few and the phased return of Brit-
ish troops on Monday.
The procedural similarities be-
tween the December riot and that
of April 1968 are striking. Both riots
erupted spontaneously on a Thurs-
day night, and continued with plan-
ned violence the next night and Sat-
urday afternoon. Both pitted ma-
rauding black youths with fire-

bombs and missiles against police
armed with shields and tear gas.
Both produced a state of emergency,
a curfew, and the call-in of British
troops. In 1968 there were no deaths,
a few serious personal injuries, and
damages amounting to $1 million.
In 1977 there were the three deaths
in the hotel fire, relatively few in-
juries, and an estimated $5 million
in damages.
As the 1977 riot was provoked
by the PLP's campaign against
capital punishment, the 1968 riot
was associated with the party's par-
liamentary campaign in Bermuda's
first election under the represen-
tative system. A volatile rally in
which the party platform and can-
didates were introduced concluded
only hours before the outburst of
violence, and was cited by an inves-
tigative commission under Sir Hugh
Wooding as one of the events that
precipitated the disorders.
Yet one is also struck by the re-
versal of partisan fortunes during
the first decade under the party
system. In 1968 the PLP was debili-
tated by a period of dissension and

Defiant youth block Court Street on the afternoon of Saturday, December 3rd.
It was this scene that led Government to request British troops. (Photo courtesy Bermuda Sun).
MZ I AdOA" &..

CAI?BBCAN ICVIEW /5

by the frustrating spectacle of its
impotence against the seemingly
invincible UBP. In 1977, three elec-
tions later, the PLP was within strik-
ing distance of a parliamentary
majority and riding a tide of growing
popular support. By contrast, the
UBP had recently recorded its worst
electoral showing to date and ex-
perienced an internal upheaval that
not only led to the humiliating res-
ignation of Premier Jack Sharpe,
but also nakedly exposed the racial,
ethnic, and class tensions beneath
the pretense of a "united" party.
The changes heralded by this
reversal, however, are more ap-
parent than real. The modern poli-
tical game manifests and maintains
a symbiosis between the parties
that works ultimately to preserve
the traditional social and economic
order. To understand the riots,
which are ritualized transgressions
of this order, we must look into the
political process and its relationship
to the racial structure of Bermudian
society.

The Assault
on the Aristocracy
Traditionally--and the Bermuda
Parliament dates to 1620, making
it older than any in the British Com-
monwealth overseas--Bermuda was
ruled by an aristocracy of white
families descended from the first
seventeenth century English settlers.
Seafarers until the 1870s, agricul-
tural exporters from then until the
1920s, and more recently an inter-
locking establishment of merchants,
bankers, and corporate lawyers, the
aristocracy have had a greater au-
tonomy from metropolitan imperial
directives than any of their West
Indian counterparts except possibly
Nassau's Bay Street oligarchy, some
of whom originally sprang from
Bermuda stock.
The barriers of race and class
stratified the Bermudian social order,
but not in the overlapping way illus-
trated by the color-class hierarchies
of the British and French Carib-
bean. Instead, class lines differen-
tiated the aristocracy from the di-
verse assemblage of other whites;
their "poor cousins" who failed to
acquire or maintain a controlling
economic position, English and
Irish laborers brought in for military
construction in the nineteenth cen-
6/ CABBMAN rcVIEW

tury, Turks Islanders of Bermudian
ancestry who returned when the salt
trade collapsed, Azorean Portuguese
imported for the past century and a
half as gardeners and farmhands,
"soldier people" who settled in Ber-
muda after a tour of duty with the
British garrison or naval squadron,
civil servants, teachers, policemen,
doctors, nurses, and most recently,
corporate technocrats who service
the international finance sector. On
the other hand, an American type
race bar segregated all whites from
the black majority, whose own class
system evolved with reference to
ethnic origin, cultural behavior, and
socio-economic position rather than
pigmentation.
The rule of aristocracy--generally
known in Bermuda as either Front
Street (their commercial address)
or the Forty Thieves (their acquisi-
tive style)--has been maintained
through the instruments of econom-
ic patronage: jobs, loans, credit,
recallable mortgages, charitable
donations. The total control of these
resources enabled Front Street to
run Parliament with the same cava-
lier smugness and unassailable au-
thority that they ran the island's
elitist social clubs. Supporters of
the aristocracy found it paternal,
even benevolent; opponents usual-
ly lost all that they had.
The first challenge to Front Street
came from the Political Associa-
tions, parish organizations initially
formed in the late nineteenth cen-
tury by blacks who held land and
therefore the right to vote. Their
aims were modest: to gain minority
representation on the parish ves-
tries and to win one of the four
parish seats in the House of As-
sembly. These objectives were grad-
ually met in heavily black parishes,
but only through the selection of
candidates deemed acceptable to
Front Street; otherwise, white prop-
erty-owning syndicates would be
formed before elections to defeat
them.
The decade following World War
II witnessed the emergence of a la-
bor union as well as the acceleration
of black pressure for desegregation
and democratic social reforms.
These forces acquired a political
dimension in the early 1960s with
the formation of an ad hoc group
aimed at mobilizing public opinion
for the removal of Bermuda's ar-

(Photo courtesy Bermuda Sun).

chaic voting restrictions. The result
was a compromise that extended
the vote to all adults but raised the
minimum age from 21 to 25 and
compensated property owners with
an extra or "plus" vote.
The new political potential of
blacks inspired the founding of the
Progressive Labour Party three
months before the 1963 General
Election. Nine candidates were put
forward, six of them winning seats
either from white aristocrats or from
conservative blacks who remained
independent. With the plus vote
scheduled to be phased out and the
voting age returned to 21 in that
session of Parliament, it seemed
certain that the ancient regime was

The Bristol Cellar Warehouse on the day after it was firebombed in Bermuda's race riot.

at an end. But what appeared inevi-
table failed to happen. In the next
election in 1968--Bermuda's first
under full and equal adult suffrage--
the PLP gained only a third of the
popular vote and a quarter of the
parliamentary seats, becoming the
single predominantly black country
in the Antilles to return a white
government in its first election
under democratic suffrage. Four
years later, in the election of 1972,
that phenomenon was repeated with
an identical distribution of seats.
Dissension and radicalism readily
step forward as important reasons
for the PLP's humiliating defeats.
A serious split developed early in
the party's history between profes-

sionals and labor union represen-
tatives, a rift in which labor gained
the upper hand through the union's
covert financial support of the party
and strong influence on the central
committee. In the mid-1960s five
of the six members of the parlia-
mentary caucus either left or were
expelled from the party, three to
form a short-lived splinter party
and two to return with scars that
never really healed. Other profes-
sionals--physicians, dentists, law-
yers, teachers--also bolted from the
party or remained apolitical, many
of them recently returned from uni-
versities abroad and generally ex-
pected by blacks to play a major
role in political reform.

The drift toward left wing radical-
ism developed later in the decade,
primarily through the influence of
an intellectual fringe who formu-
lated a loose ideology joining Amer-
ican concepts of Black Power with
the revolutionary socialism of some
African and Caribbean countries.
Besides further alienating conser-
vative professionals, this stance also
disturbed the PLP's core of working
class supporters, whose political
goals are immediate and mundane
and whose dream of advancement
centers more on capitalist compe-
tition than socialist equality. The
party's most enthusiastic constitu-
ency became black street gangs
and paramilitary youth groups, the
segment it has intermittently court-
ed with politically disastrous results
throughout the first decade under
the party system.
It is ironic that Bermuda, with the
largest middle class and highest
standard of living in the Antilles,
has bred a political opposition with
such periodic radical inclinations.
Reasons emerge when we consider
the complex conditions that allowed
the power structure to diversify its
social composition and respond re-
siliently to the party system, while
at the same time strengthening a
political economy consistent with
the interests of an ever-widening
group of Bermudians.

The House that Jack Built
Traditionally stable and prosper-
ous, the Bermudian economy expe-
rienced remarkable growth after
World War II and particularly from
1960 onwards. The seasonal and
elitist tourist trade that had been
started in the 1920s evolved into
mass tourism and came to dominate
the economy. Its growth accelerated
in the 1960s, volume doubling in
the first half of the decade and near-
ly doubling again by the end. Ber-
muda now entertains 600,000 visi-
tors each year, about ten times the
resident population.
The second sector to experience
boom growth has been internation-
al finance. A tax haven, Bermuda
in the late 1940s began to offer
shelter to foreign companies seek-
ing a base for corporate business.
In the 1960s the international com-
panies became an important com-
ponent of the economy, providing
both a substantial source of public
CARFBEAN rEVIEW 17

revenue and a stimulus for jobs,
services, and new profit-making op-
portunities. Expansion accelerated
in the 1970s, resulting near the end
of the decade in a registration ap-
proaching four thousand corporate
entities--one for every 14 residents.
The aristocracy have been the
chief beneficiaries of Bermuda's
phenomenal economic growth. Their
Front Street stores are a major at-
traction both to tourists and to an
increasingly affluent and consumer-
oriented native population. They
own Bermuda's major importing
firms, public utilities, and the prin-
cipal agencies and service busi-
nesses which cater to the tourist
trade. They retain control of the two
largest banks, and through the
banks get most of the lucrative le-
gal work generated by the interna-
tional companies.

"...the system of racial
politics, periodically
producing riots works
normally to reinforce the
stability, conservatism,
and tranquility for which
Bermuda is renowned."

Yet while the aristocracy have
profited immensely since World
War II, the scale and rate of growth
has been far too great for any mo-
nopoly to contain. Mass tourism re-
quired the renovation of old hotels
and eventually the construction of
new luxury hotels, demands beyond
the reach of local capital. Hotel
ownership, primarily Bermudian
before World War II, passed to for-
eign interests, first British busines-
ses seeking to invest money abroad
after the post-war election of Labor
governments in England, and later
American multinational hotel chains.
Today nine of the ten "large" hotels
(minimum 250 beds), as well as
most of the major small hotels, are
foreign-owned.
The foreign ownership of the two
major industries has brought an in-
flux of management executives and
corporate technicians. In the 1960s
Bermuda experienced its largest
decennial population growth in his-
tory, three-fifths of it resulting from
immigration. The white population
grew at twice the rate of the black,
especially in the age groups that
8/ cAIRBCAN REVIEW

constitute the most vigorous and
upwardly mobile segment of the
labor force.
Besides the influx of expatriate
expertise there has been consider-
able economic advancement among
groups traditionally excluded from
business. Portuguese, whites of
working class and foreign ancestry,
and a small but growing number of
blacks have risen to prominence in
such relatively new but flourishing
fields as real estate, investment,
and insurance. In addition, these
same groups have seized opportu-
nities created by the expansion of
retail commerce, banking, corpo-
rate law, and other areas formerly
monopolized by Front Street.
While socially fragmented by
traditional class, racial, and ethnic
antipathies, Bermuda's old and new
money interests readily agreed on
two points: the merits of the free
enterprise system and the intoler-
able threat represented by the PLP's
racial militancy and strong labor
orientation. Their necessary course
of action was equally clear: to form
a political movement that could
unite white Bermuda and lure enough
black support to stop the PLP.
The result was the United Ber-
muda Party(UBP), founded in 1964
by 24 of the 30 independents in the
House of Assembly--many of whom,
ironically, had campaigned the year
before on personal platforms op-
posed to the party system. The ar-
chitect was Sir Henry "Jack" Tucker,
whose influence during seven years
as leader and subsequent years as
elder statesman is suggested in the
party's unofficial name: "The House
that Jack Built," Bermuda's most
powerful banker and an aristocrat
of celebrated ancestry, Tucker's
ability derived from his understand-
ing of the patronage system and its
adaptability to changing conditions.
He realized that the cohesion of the
party required the wide distribution
of not only cabinet posts and other
political appointments, but also
club memberships, company direc-
torships, and investment opportuni-
ties. He had the authority and econ-
omic leverage to procure this
largesse from Front Street, and the
political sagacity to dispense it ef-
fectively.

PLP Leader Lois Browne addresses an anti-
hanging rally in Victoria Park (Photo courtesy
Bermuda Sun).

Legislatively the UBP co-opted
the PLP's democratic reform pro-
posals, leading the drive for deseg-
regation, free secondary education,
and full and equal adult suffrage.
On more controversial matters it
modified the PLP's positions, but
nonetheless gradually implement-
ed Government-financed social
services and made a formal com-
mitment to the Bermudianization
of the labor force. The strategy
achieved both its obvious aim of
winning the marginal black vote as
well as the more subtle but crucial
objective of forcing the PLP into a
leftist position that was both unten-
able at the polls and a dramatiza-
tion of the threat that made the UBP
coalition an economic necessity.
This threat was confirmed by the
PLP's association with the 1968 riot,
which came only three weeks before
the parliamentary election and as-
sured the UBP's landslide victory.

Party Reversal
In December 1971 Sir Henry Tuck-
er retired from active politics. On
his orders the UBP made two moves
that its critics predicted would
never happen. The first was the
selection of Sir Edward Richards, a
Guyanese-born lawyer and Bermu-
da's first black knight, as the new
Premier. The second was the nomi-
nation of John Swan, Bermuda's
most successful black businessman,
as the candidate for Sir Henry's seat
in Paget East, a district more than
nine-tenths white and the UBP's
safest constituency. Both moves
could be challenged as tokenism,
of course, but even cynics had to
admit that they were tokens of a
magnitude not previously dispensed.
The PLP was again preempted.
In the aftermath of these events
and its second humiliating electoral
defeat in 1972, the PLP was left ex-
hausted and despairing. A few party
veterans quietly disengaged from
politics to devote renewed attention
to occupational careers. Others who
remained active reassessed their
views, generally coming to the con-
clusion that racial militancy and
revolutionary socialism were, after
all, unsuited to Bermuda. At the
same time a group of culturally
bourgeois professionals, mainly
teachers, took enough interest in
the party to seek seats on the policy-
making central committee, while
small businessmen became active

teC~-V -

Jack Sharpe, center, bids farewell upon his resignation as Premier in August 1977.
At right is David Gibbons, who was elected to succeed him by the UBP Members of the
House of Assembly. At left is C. V. "Jim" Woolridge, who ran unsuccessfully for the
Premiership and is now Deputy Premier and Minister of Tourism. (Photo courtesy
Bermuda Sun).

on the parish level and groomed
themselves as future candidates.
Rapport was built with socially re-
spectable black organizations, nota-
bly the African Methodist Episcopal
Church (AME), Bermuda's largest
and most influential black reli-
gious assembly. Public relations
was taken over by media and ad-
vertising people who cultivated an
image aimed at the black middle
and upper classes.
The diminishing of a militant black
threat undercut the brokerage value
of UBP Blacks to their white col-
leagues, especially in view of the
gesture of elevating Richards to the
party leadership. The reaction of the
UBP blacks to the dissipation of
their bargaining position came with
the formation of the Black Caucus
in late 1974. Its detailed report re-
newed familiar black demands for
better educational and job training
programs, called for Government
to provide financial assistance for
aspiring black businessmen, and
urged a moratorium on the granting
of status (citizenship), a position
long taken by the PLP. More inter-
esting, though, was the ventrilo-

quist strategy of presentation.
Throughout the report references
were made to the militant unrest of
the black public and their alleged
contempt for the UBP. The solution,
urged the report, was for UBP blacks
to be seen receiving greater recog-
nition and for more blacks to be
brought into the party and assured
of "meaningful participation" in
the councils of power. Failure to
heed the warning, and in particular
to integrate blacks into the upper
echelons of the economy, would
result in socialist upheaval of the
type seen in Jamaica.
The most vocal reaction within
the UBP came from Portuguese,
expatriates, and whites of working
class origins, groups who are the
structural competitors of blacks but
suffer the political liability of being
white. As a rival ethnic identity was
unavailable the group instead framed
their position around rightist con-
cerns: the growing power of the la-
bor union, the rising cost of social
services, the increase of crime, the
breakdown of discipline in the
schools, and the summary theme
of a drift toward socialism. A small
CARBRHEAN REVIEW 19

segment of the parliamentary cau-
cus began to challenge the party
and even to vote against it in the
House of Assembly, while at the
same time demanding greater rep-
resentation for themselves in Cab-
inet.
As they attempted unsuccessfully
in 1972, the white dissidents sought
again in 1976 to increase their
strength by going after Front Street
incumbents in pre-election prima-
ries. Three primary challenges were
made, all of them a conservative
critique against the centrist posi-
tion of the party mainstream as well
as a class struggle between new
and old money. Two of the primaries
unseated incumbents, swelling the
ranks and the confidence of the dis-
sident whites.

In 1968 Bermuda became
"the single predominantly
black country in the
Antilles to return a white
government in its first
election under democratic
suffrage."

It was, then, a bitterly divided
UBP which went into the 1976 Gen-
eral Election, facing an opposition
that had muted its controversial rep-
utation among blacks and taken
a faint step toward neutralizing
whites. The PLP won four marginal
seats held by the UBP since 1968,
and took a fifth in a bye-election
four months later. Thirteen years
after its formation the PLP had final-
ly come within striking distance of
victory, although it still needed five
more seats to deadlock the House
of Assembly.
With its position eroded, the
UBP's factionalism hardened. UBP
blacks saw their PLP counterparts
moving into lucrative client roles
as the international companies,
Bermuda's newest and best-endowed
patrons, began to hedge their bets
on the island's political future.
Whites outside the aristocracy con-
tinued to press rightist positions,
to vent the view that the party hier-
archy was isolating itself from the
legitimate needs and grievances of
whites, and to insist that without
widespread reform the UBP stood
in danger of losing the next election.
For several reasons the disaffec-
tion of both dissident wings focused
10/ CAffBBCAN F VIEW

on Jack (later Sir John) Sharpe,
who had succeeded Richards as
Premier five months before the
1976 election. A white of working
class and "soldier people" origins,
Sharpe was nonetheless disliked
by this stratum of whites for his
liberalism and his tendency to side
with Front Street. And while having
an easy informality with blacks on
the ground level, the business and
professional blacks in Cabinet con-
sidered him paternalistic and au-
thoritarian. Like Richards, more-
over, he lacked a strong economic
position and therefore the authority
to gain the concessions that blacks
demanded.
Setting aside their ideological
differences and racial antipathies,
the two dissident groups united
early in 1977 to bring about several
resignations from the Cabinet and
other key party posts. The move
forced Sharpe to turn to the aristoc-
racy to rebuild his Cabinet, there-
by accentuating the Front Street
image. In the following months
Sharpe survived two non-confidence
motions in the parliamentary cau-
cus, but failed to improve his be-
leagured position. In August, 1977,
he resigned the Premiership.
The ensuing struggle for succes-
sion came down to a clash between
the "reformist" (black and white
dissidents) and "establishment"
(Front Street) wings of the party.
The reformist bloc settled on C.V.
"Jim" Woolridge, a black broad-
caster and advertising salesman.
The establishment put up David
Gibbons, a white businessman
whose family empire controls Ber-
muda's largest conglomerate. The
winner was Gibbons, but the vote
of the parliamentary caucus was
close and the mandate was clear:
to integrate the black and white re-
formists into a new, socially bal-
anced coalition. His first Cabinet
was a dramatic step in this direction,
as he fired two Front Street aristo-
crats from the former Cabinet to
make room for additional blacks
and Portuguese. Woolridge, more-
over, was named Deputy Premier
and Minister of Tourism.

Prelude to Riot
With its rift healed, the UBP set
out in the fall of 1977 to regain lost
ground. The non-aristocratic whites
advocated a stance of confrontation
with the labor union and other poli-

tical antagonists, as well as a re-
trenchment from many of the liber-
alizing trends that surfaced under
Sharpe's leadership. The blacks
pressed for stronger influence and
a more visible presence in the party,
and renewed support for programs
put forth by the Black Caucus. Al-
though occasionally at cross pur-
poses, both influences shaped the
UBP's course in the months before
the riot.
A vocal black critic of Govern-
ment who identified himself as a
social worker was invited to a UBP
forum and then labelled fraudulent
by the Minister of Community Rela-
tions, a Portuguese, who claimed
that the man had no credentials for
social work. The position of Chief
Justice, resigned by a white expa-
triate in favor of Bermudianization,
was given to a black Bermudian
whose family is associated with the
Anglican Church, rather than to the
candidate openly supported by the
PLP, a black Bermudian from a
prominent AME family.
A more heated controversy devel-
oped over Willowbank, a guest
house for Christian retreats with a
primarily white clientele and under
the directorship of current and
former UBP Members of Parliament
who are white but outside the aris-
tocracy. Willowbank refused to nego-
tiate with the labor union, contend-
ing that its Christian purposes would
be impeded by the threat of strikes
and similar problems that arise in
dealing with organized workers.
Management chose to close rather
than recognize the union, but later
opened with new employees. In
protest the union staged a strike of
hotels, which the hotels answered
by filing suit against the union ex-
ecutive. The court case looms as
one of the more bitter labor-manage-
ment (and hence black-white) con-
frontations that Bermuda has had
in recent years.
For its annual banquet in late
October, the UBP invited U.S. Rep-
resentative Carl Stokes to be guest
speaker. A former chairman of the
Congressional Black Caucus, the
prototype of the UBP's namesake
pressure group, Stokes' visit sym-
bolized the party's heightened ef-
forts to assuage its black members
and attract black voting support.
Stokes was pathetically confused
about the Bermuda situation, to the
extent of referring to his hosts as

the Bermuda Democratic Party--a
splinter group that passed out of
existence in the previous decade.
His speech, nonetheless, was well
received, as it articulated the strat-
egy of UBP blacks; join a white party,
agitate for position and influence,
seek political profit from the estab-
lished system. Stokes was thanked
by black Deputy Premier Jim Wool-
ridge, who told him, "We share a
common bond."
"From the rise of Political
Associations three-quarters
of a century ago to the
present, 'politics has been
molded by the struggle of
whites to retain their
position and the struggle
of blacks to dislodge
them."
The PLP's annual banquet fell
about a month later, on the day that
the date of the hangings was formal-
ly announced. Congressman Julian
Bond was the scheduled speaker,
an arrangement negotiated the
previous summer and enthusiasti-
cally advertised by the PLP all fall.
Two days before the banquet, how-
ever, the party learned indirectly
that Bond was not planning to come.
A PLP Member of Parliament was

summoned from the floor of the
House of Assembly and dispatched
to Atlanta to find Bond. He con-
tacted members of the Congress-
man's family, but was unable to
reach Bond himself or to obtain a
coherent explanation of the cancel-
led visit. None has yet been given.
With some five hundred banquet
tickets sold at $25 a plate, the PLP
needed a quick replacement for
Bond. They coaxed an American
AME minister who formerly pastor-
ed in Bermuda and a Bermudian
active in the Alabama black move-
ment, to deliver speeches. The
minister gave the more spirited per-
formance, but had apparently failed
to keep in touch with events of the
past 15 years. He lashed out in re-
vivalist style against voting restric-
tions and related conditions that
prevailed before party politics. While
the speech had an emotional im-
pact on a crowd familiar with the
idiom and enraged by the hanging
announcement hours earlier, its in-
congruity with the contemporary
situation was generally seen by
non-partisan observers as an em-
barrassment that heightened the
humiliation of being stood up by
Bond.
Another prominent black Amer-
ican involved in Bermuda's intensi-
fying political conflict during the
fall was Kenneth Clark, author of
Dark Ghetto. About ten days be-

fore the hanging the UBP Govern-
ment revealed it had retained a
prestigious U.S. firm to do a three
month study of Bermuda's "social,
business, and commercial" needs
in the next decade, with particular
concern for small (and therefore
predominantly black) enterprises.
The firm in question turned out to
be Clark and members of his family.
Yet while the study was already
more than half completed, Clark
had made no contact with Bermu-
da's Statistical Office, the repository
of a wealth of economic data. Nor
was his presence known to such
crucial black groups as the PLP and
the labor union.
When the last appeal to stop the
hangings appeared doomed, it was
suggested by a confidante of the
PLP that Clark might personally in-
tervene with the Governor, Sir Peter
Ramsbotham. A call to New York
established Clark's whereabouts in
Bermuda, and he was finally put in
touch with the PLP's Deputy Leader,
Frederick Wade. While the details
of what happened afterwards re-
mains obscure, Wade claimed a
week later in Parliament that Clark
had tried to contact the Governor
but was prevented by the UBP. Wade
also said, however, that he regarded
Clark as a "mercenary"--and had
told him so in a heated discussion--
for continuing to collect his consult-
ing free from the UBP Government.

The remains of a bus stands outside the Transport Department's Examination Center in Hamilton's "back of town" district.

(Photo courtesy Bermuda Sun).

CArBBCAN EVIew /Il

Race and Party
The pattern traced by political
events of the past fifteen years re-
veals not only how Bermuda has
changed, but also why, in many es-
sential respects, it remains the same.
The PLP's strength and political
potential in the early 1960s trigger-
ed the formation of the UBP. The
UBP's co-option of the center ground
and its ability to satisfy both a plural-
istic white society and a significant
group of blacks forced the PLP into
a radical position that appealed
chiefly to ideological purists, racial
militants, and alienated youth
groups. The relative position of the
parties shifted in the mid-1970s as
the PLP modified its rhetoric, re-
treated from the left, and cultivated
a bourgeois style. The diminish-
ment of the PLP's threatening image
dissipated the brokerage value and
therefore the lucrative client role
of UBP blacks, prompting them to
agitate aggressively against their
Front Street patrons. Similar un-
rest among non-aristocratic whites
fissioned the UBP, weakening it
enough to lose five seats in the
bland, non-controversial election of
1976. The losses further fragment-
ed the UBP, leading to an embit-
tered deadlock that was resolved
only through Premier Sharpe's res-
ignation and the rebuilding of a
Cabinet that balanced the authority
of old white money against the ris-
ing demands of blacks and non-
aristocratic whites for a bigger stake
in the party and the economy.
The UBP coalition is at best pre-
carious, having little more than
money--and conversely the threat
of losing that money--to hold it to-
gether. Nonetheless, its intense
desire to retain control of Govern-
ment--a desire dramatically exem-
plified by its courting of Carl Stokes
and Kenneth Clark--required the
PLP to consolidate its own rather
restless constituency of working
class blacks, the traditional core of
supporters, and the black bour-
geoisie, whose support was gradual-
ly regained in the middle 1970s and
seen clearly in the 1976 election.
The national independence cam-
paign, the party's principal theme
in the year following the election
but primarily a bourgeois cause,
was temporarily muted in the search
for an issue that would have broader
appeal. The crusade against capital
punishment was at first approached
12/ CARBBFAN F~VIEW

cautiously, as it seemed to lack
middle class support. But when the
AME Church and black profession-
al groups joined the movement, it
became a symbol of black solidarity
and, in the end, a moral confronta-
tion in which blacks were the vic-
tims and whites the murderers.

"The riots that punctuate
the political process are
ritualistic recognition that
the process at its deepest
level preserves continuity
at the expense of
fundamental change."

Had the crusade ended with ral-
lies and prayer vigils, it would have
been exclusively a symbol of racial
unity and religious purpose--the
themes that diminish party differ-
ences between blacks. But because
of the ensuing riot, the issue was
brought back to an economic and
political plane--the level on which
black partisan disunity is greatest.
The disastrous (although probably
temporary) consequences for the
tourist trade and the dramatization
of colonial dependency have again
polarized blacks and frightened
whites, the formula that maintains
the UBP's cohesion. Hence the circle
of partisan conflict has made an-
other full turn.
Underlying this circular process
is a social structure in which race is
the fundamental, primordial divi-
sion. That sociocultural reality is
intensified by the imbalance of
power relations. Whites, two-fifths
of the population, control the econ-
omy and the polity. Blacks, the
majority, are subordinate, but in
no uniform or static way. From the
rise of the Political Associations
three quarters of a century ago to
the present, politics has been mold-
ed by the struggle of whites to retain
their position and the struggle of
blacks to dislodge them.
Before universal suffrage the
black goal was impeded by the re-
striction of voting rights to property
owners and other archaic electoral
practices. Since then it has been
frustrated by the party system, or,
more specifically by the UBP's abil-
ity to maintain (more or less) white
political solidarity while at the same
time gaining the voting support of

between a fifth and a quarter of the
black population.
Contrary to common assump-
tions, however, UBP blacks have
not 'gone over to the white side.'
The relationship between blacks
across partisan lines is one of sym-
biosis rather than opposition. When
PLP blacks carry the attack against
whites, as they did from the begin-
ning of party politics to the early
1970s and again from 1977 on-
wards, UBP blacks reap the benefits.
But when UBP blacks turn against
whites, as they did in the middle
1970s, PLP blacks can take the
high road of bourgeois respectabil-
ity and even enjoy some of the
spoils normally reserved for UBP
blacks. Thus, each partisan group
of blacks does the other's work. The
result is that whites are always on
the defensive, but not to the extent
they are forced to surrender control
of Government.
If partisan boundaries had coin-
cided exactly with racial ones, Ber-
muda would probably have been
torn apart a decade ago. Sir Ed-
ward Richards, Bermuda's only
black Premier, recognized as much
when he observed that the align-
ment of race and party was equiva-
lent "to playing with a political
bomb that has its detonator on."
He once revealed to this writer that
his decision to join the UBP was
largely the result of his background
in Guyana and a visit there during
the build-up of race party hostilities
in the early 1960s.
The Bermudian system, nonethe-
less, has its own liabilities. The
semblance without the substance
of change wears thin occasionally,
as does the treadmill of partisan
oscillation that leaves the underly-
ing power structure intact. The riots
that punctuate the political process
are ritualistic recognition that the
process at its deepest level preserves
continuity at the expense of funda-
mental change. Like periodic sym-
bolic rebellions in tribal societies,
the riots are expressions of exaspera-
tion that function unintentionally
to reinforce the very order that they
attack.

Frank E. Manning, head of Anthropology
at Memorial University of Newfoundland,
is author of Black Clubs in Bermuda. His
new book, Bermudian Politics in Transition,
has just been published.

7-~

'~ "2 / u n_

Neighbors

lAn Analysis of the Guatemala-Belize Dispute
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{' / Neighbors

-^^ AnAayi fteGaeaaBelize Disut

By A. E. Thorndike
The dynamic process of international relations in the
Caribbean is as significant now as at any other period in
the past. Among the issues claiming the attention of
policy-makers and political analysts of the region, the
question of Belize (formerly British Honduras) and its
quest for self-determination has the potential for being
one of the most disruptive political problems affecting
the peace and security of the Caribbean. Specifically
at issue is Guatemala's claim to all or part of Belizean
territory. Of critical concern is the legal competence
and political will of regional organizations to resolve
the dispute and the question of the acceptable disin-
terestedness of states offering to act as mediators.
The Belizean crisis is made more significant by
Belize's geographical position existing as it does in a
cultural shatter zone between two distinct social com-
plexes characteristic of the Caribbean, the White-Creole-
West Indian and Spanish-Mestizo-Indian. While their
combination in Belize makes for a unique society, their
very existence as separate heritages with traditional
social values and processes of government has widened
the conflict in that Caribbean and circum-Caribbean
states have generally tended to sympathize with either
Belize or Guatemala. Furthermore, the crisis has be-
come more intractible than it might otherwise have

been as a consequence of the growing divisions between
these two traditions in the area, particularly expressed
in the OAS and the UN.
The roots of the dispute lie in a vaguely worded
1859 treaty between Britain and Guatemala. The British
promised to build a road from central Guatemala to the
port of Belize via geographically isolated and impover-
ished Peten province. In return, Guatemala agreed to
recognize British rights in the southern portion of the
territory. The treaty obligations were never met and
there has been friction ever since. To understand the
dispute it is best to trace its history.
The beginning of British settlement on Spanish
soil was first recorded in 1638. Before that, Belize had
provided sanctuary for British buccaneers attacking
the Spanish galleon routes. It also provided a source of
increasingly valuable logwood, the dye of which was in
growing demand by the British textile industry. Soon
forestry activities were the raison d'etre of the British
settlements but the British government ignored calls
for their status to be settled through the Anglo-Spanish
Treaty of 1670. Thereafter, neither European power se-
riously attempted to assert its rights until 1763, when
under considerable British pressure, Spain recognized
the settlers' economic activities. War was declared be-
CARRBCAN FC~Wt 113

tween the two countries in 1779 with Spain as an ally
of France. Belize was invaded, and the settlers fled to
Nicaragua. They returned in 1783 and Spain officially
sanctioned their re-settlement and restored their con-
cessionary rights by the 1786 Convention of London,
which however, was limited to the northern half of the
present territory, between the Rio Hondo (the present
boundary with Mexico) and the River Sibun.
Subsequent to the independence of Mexico and
Guatemala in 1821, Mexico recognized this British title
in conformity with the Convention. However, it also
noted that Spanish law had never deviated from the
view that the area north of the Sibun was part of the
Captaincy-General of Yucatan. This was made clear by
the Anglo-Mexican Treaty of 1893 which settled Belize's
northern boundaries. It is at this point that the signifi-
cance of the celebrated Roman Law principle of uti
possidetis, ita possideatis, 'as you possess, so you
may possess' became clear. Adopted as the basis for
the resolution of all boundary questions, Spanish ad-
ministrative boundaries in force in Central America in
1821 were adopted as the basis for state borders, despite
their arbitrariness. Therefore, as the successor state to
the Spanish Audiencia of Guatemala, and in considera-
tion of the legal fact that Spain had never actually ac-
knowledged British sovereignty largely because it
was never demanded Guatemala made clear its claim,
particularly to the mountainous south, an area gradually
occupied by some British settlers and their slaves from
the mid-eighteenth century, and by 'black Caribs' ex-
pelled from St. Vincent after their abortive rebellion.
Mexico, on the other hand, has persistently argued that
the Audiencia of Guatemala was subject to that of Yu-
catan and that therefore if military force was used by
Guatemala, it would have no option but to assert its
claim under the same principle.
The United States entered the scene in 1850 with
the signature of the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty. Providing
for joint Anglo-American control of any interoceanic
canal built by the two countries, it prohibited both from
maintaining territorial possessions in 'Central America,'
which may or may not have included Panama. Though
it excluded the British settlements in Belize, Secretary
Clayton stipulated that the rights of Central American
states would not be affected by the Treaty; in other
words, recognized British sovereignty ended at the
Sibun River. Britain registered its disagreement. In 1856
she succeeded in gaining US recognition of the Sarstoon
boundary through the Dallas-Clarendon Treaty which,
to Britain's dismay, was not ratified. Logically, the only
answer was an Anglo-Guatemalan Treaty.

The 1859 Treaty
From the outset, Britain recognized its relatively weak
legal position in the south. Moreover, provisions of the
Clayton-Bulwer agreement prohibited title to territory
by cession. On the other hand, Guatemala's fiat had
never in practice extended to the area and to that extent,
its case was also legally weak. With these factors in
mind, negotiators met in Guatemala City and an eight
article Treaty was initialed. Six of these related to border
and one to ratification. The seventh article stipulated
that a road be built to give eastern Guatemala access
to the commercially important Caribbean coast and to
14/ CArBB(AJH N FVIEW

"The incorporation of Belize into
Guatemala in all but name was
complete."

promote mutually beneficial trade. Wyke, the British
negotiator, proposed the above on his own initiative
and it was left imprecise to avoid publicity and the at-
tention of a watchful USA looking for evidence of a
"bribe" offered by a powerful imperialist Britain. From
the evidence of Foreign Office papers, it was Wyke's
belief as a respected Central American expert that,
notwithstanding Clayton-Bulwer, some kind of indem-
nity would be necessary in recognition of what Guate-
mala saw as its rights; furthermore, the Treaty would
depend upon its fulfillment.
These papers suggest that some officials in Lon-
don might have regarded the Treaty as tacitly ceding
territory, given Britain's weak title. The British govern-
ment was anxious to avoid any notion of cession, which
would worsen Anglo-American relations. The answer
was to ratify the treaty but to make it clear that it simply
conferred de jure recognition to a de facto situation. In
other words, the boundary had existed but in an unde-
fined way before the Treaty, and that the Article was in
no way to be regarded as compensation but as a con-
cession to conclude negotiations.
Guatemala strongly desired a settlement for sever-
al reasons: Britain's weak title was matched by a real-
ization by Guatemala that as it had never effectively
occupied the area, to attempt to do so and control an
unfriendly population was quite beyond its capabilities.
The Republic needed to enjoy some of the economic
advantages of the territory without heavy military costs;
hence Wyke's suggestion was well received as the basis
for amicable settlement, and as compensation. But an-
other factor was the growing panic in the isthmus gen-
erally caused by the activities of a colorful American
freebooter, William Walker, who was moving north-
wards towards Guatemala. By 1856, his piracy caused
Guatemala to look to Britain for naval protection and
to see Belize not so much as a menacing intrusion but
as a barrier. The Guatemalan Foreign Minister, Ayincena,
put great pressure on Britain. This partly explains the
relative speed of the negotiations. Britain did act: by
late 1860, Walker was captured and incarcerated in a
royal naval vessel, and eventually handed to Honduran
authorities for trial.
Opposition within Guatemala to the Treaty was
immediate and widespread, and strenuous efforts had
to be made by Ayincena to effect ratification. While
the debate in the Republic raged, consternation grew
in London over Article 7, which was vague in all re-
spects: the division of costs, financial commitment,
route and specification. Wyke and Ayincena verbally
agreed on its interpretation but this information was
delayed in its transmission to London. The British gov-
ernment decided to insist on Guatemala assuming all
direct costs, Britain providing "scientific guidance"
only. This opinion was communicated to Guatemala,
where the Cabinet kept it an absolute secret until rati-
fication was achieved. Thereafter, Britain commission-
ed a survey of the proposed road but began to be con-
cerned when it learned that the cost was to be much

higher than expected, particularly when Wyke made it
clear that the verbal understanding included an equal
share of the labor costs to be borne by each state, the
material cost being Guatemala's responsibility. The
Treasury refused to pay out such a large sum on the
basis of an unwritten agreement and doubts were raised
concerning Parliament's attitude. Doubts were express-
ed with regard to Guatemala's ability to pay its share.
It was finally decided to regularize the matter by
the signing of a further Convention in 1863, at which
time Britain's proposal of 50,000 in final settlement
was accepted. To settle this quickly, ratification within
six months was stipulated by both sides. Britain did so
but Guatemala took three years, which the new Con-
servative administration in London found quite unac-
ceptable. All further negotiation ceased and Guatemala
did little to pursue the question until 1931.
The 1930's saw a general reopening of the ques-
tion. In response to renewed Guatemalan pressure,
Britain in 1933 asked for the boundary to be finally de-
marcated on a bilateral basis. Guatemala once again
proposed arbitration, specifically naming the President
of the United States. This was countered by a British
demand that the Permanent Court of International Jus-
tice at The Hague be used. Britain, acknowledging that
the failure of the 1863 Convention simply revived Arti-
cle 7, offered to consider means of implementing it or
making a financial adjustment. Guatemala refused
these offers and argued that the Convention's annul-
ment restored sovereignty to all of Belize as the suc-
cessor to Spain, which Britain had never challenged.
Britain countered that the situation prior to 1859 was
not one of Guatemalan sovereignty but a British right
to the territory by prescription, after Spain had tacitly
abandoned her sovereignty over the area.
Guatemala responded by declaring the 1859 Treaty
null and void. In 1940, when Britain raised the question
of arbitration, Guatemala insisted that the dispute had
gone beyond a mere consideration of legal minutiae
and that its resolution must take account of all the cir-
cumstances and political and historical background.
This new stand was further developed in 1946 when
Britain again suggested putting the case to the Interna-
tional Court of Justice. Guatemala professed a will-
ingness to accept the Court's decision in 1947 but only
if it was decided on an ex aequo et bono basis or, roughly
translated, on the basis of equity. Britain refused, but
for years Guatemala pursued this line of attack until by
1958, there appeared to be a general realization by its
Foreign Ministry that just as Britain's case in law could
be considered to be weak, so was its own case in equity.
The last twenty years have seen the dispute devel-
op along another dimension due to the developing and
strident demands of the Belizean political parties, par-
ticularly George Price's Peoples United Party (PUP),
that Belize could not and would not ever become part
of Guatemala. Obviously the continuing dispute has
greatly affected the structure and process of Belizean
domestic politics to the point where even the pro-British
opposition in its various manifestations has had to sup-
port the nationalist PUP government in its firm stand
against Guatemala.
It has also meant an ambivalence by the PUP leader-
ship in its attitudes to the United States: at once appre-
hensive, but with a demand that Washington can not

.i .. ... .. :... :..i..i

from FIU's International Affairs Center

FlU's International Affairs Center, in conjunc-
tion with the School of Business and Organ-
izational Sciences, is conducting an Interna-
tional Tax Administration Program in Mexico.
This program provides advanced training for
management personnel of the Mexican Minis-
try of Finance.

FlU's School of Business and Organiza-
tional Sciences is continuing its M.B.A. pro-
gram at the Universidad de Oriente in Cumana,
Venezuela.

At the request of the College of the Ba-
hamas, FlU's School of Technology is provid-
ing in-service training for College of the Ba-
hamas personnel.

FIU's Earth Sciences Program and the
University of Surinam, Faculty of Natural Sci-
ences, have entered into a cooperative agree-
ment. The agreement opens up a student ex-
change program and provides for reciprocal use
of research facilities and allied services. Both
institutions welcome participation by other in-
stitutions on mutually agreeable terms.

"Towards Integration of Science and Tech-
nology with Development Needs of the LDCs--
Circum Caribbean/Latin American Problems
on the Eve of the U.N. Conference on Science
and Technology for Development," takes place
at FlU, April 6-8. FIU's International Affairs Cen-
ter, the College of Arts and Sciences and the
School of Technology are the local sponsors.
The University of the West Indies and the Uni-
versity of Guyana are collaborating.

FIU's International Affairs Center will co-
sponsor the Third Symposium on Caribbean
Dialectology to be held at FIU, May 10-11.

Since early 1977 the International Affairs
Center of Florida International University has
been under the direction of Dean K. William
Leffland. The Center has responsibility for the
University's international education, research
and training programs. It works with other aca-
demic units at the University to develop their
international offerings.

International Affairs Center
Florida International University
Tamiami Trail
Miami, Florida 33199
(305) 552-2846

CAHBBCAN rfVIEM /15

~q~hTIO~C

4~

stand aloof. Partial mediation by the United States was
offered in 1962 but when talks in Puerto Rico broke
down, precipitated by the announcement of a new in-
ternally self-governing constitution for the colony,
Guatemala broke off diplomatic relations with Britain.
The break meant that the United States was forced to
play a more active role and mediation continued in
Washington and Miami, finally resulting in an agree-
ment in 1965 to appoint Bethnel Webster to recom-
mend forms of settlement. His report, presented in the
form of a draft Anglo-Guatemalan Treaty, allowed for
Belizean independence but in such circumscribed terms
that it was virtually meaningless. For instance,Articles
2 and 3 gave Guatemala exclusive use of designated
duty-free ports and the use of transit routes to be built
by Belize; Article 13 contained the obligation by Belize
to channel communications to all external bodies and
other states through the Guatemalan Foreign Ministry;
Article 14 established the necessity for Belize to coor-
dinate its defense forces with those of Guatemala and
to allow virtual control by Guatemala of its ports; Arti-
cle 12 included a similar provision relating to police
forces and finally, strong powers were given under Ar-
ticle 9 to a Joint Authority to be established to admin-
ister the agreement. In return, Guatemala would sponsor
Belize's membership of the OAS and the Inter-American
Development Bank. At no point in the draft treaty was
the Guatemalan claim revoked and no right was given
to Belize to join the United Nations or any other non
inter-American organization. The incorporation of Belize
into Guatemala in all but name was complete.
It was further reported from Washington that the
United States government supported the proposals, a
strong factor being the strategic one: since northeast
Guatemala was the base of "communist" rebels, Belize
was an ideal beachhead and a weak Belize could not ef-
fectively safeguard against communist infiltration from
Cuba. Quite naturally, uproar ensued in Belize and in a
rare show of unity, all groups and parties unanimously
denounced it. The PUP government went further in
demanding independence by no later than 1970 with a
British military guarantee. However, not only did Britain
decline this open-ended commitment but in agreement
with the United States, felt that Belize's negative and
unequivocal response amounted to a decision by the
Belizean government to take the dispute into its own
hands.

A Caribbean Affair
Delay in resolution of the conflict has made it the last
territorial dispute of the British decolonization program.
It also allows Guatemala to use its demands as a useful
unifying issue when internal stresses become severe.
Moreover, not only is Belize legally incompetent to
negotiate directly with Guatemala, but the increasing
inability of the United Kingdom to do so because of the
fundamental differences in interpretation of the colo-
nial treaties, contributes to the need to see it as a Carib-
bean, even hemispheric affair.
While not intending to relinquish sovereignty in the
absence of a solution, the British government is reluc-
tant to jeopardize its increasingly important commer-
cial links with Latin America. These countries have
generally sympathized with the Guatemalan argument
16/ CArBHAN reVIEW

"Britain felt that Belize's... response
amounted to a decision by the
Belizean government to take the
dispute into its own hands."

that its irredentist claim is in the name of progressive
anti-colonialism. On the other hand, the USA is even
less willing to prejudice its far greater economic and
strategic relationships with Latin America, and Guate-
mala in particular, for the sake of Belize. The new Carter
Administration appears to be pushing the United States
into a more neutral position.
But the recent past is important in assessing any
future role of the United States in the dispute. There is,
for instance, the invaluable help once given by Guate-
mala in providing training facilities for Cuban rebels
destined for the Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba. Also,
there are many strong suspicions in the Commonwealth
Caribbean circles that the United States would oppose
a military solution, since this would gravely affect the
capability of the Guatemalan government to maintain
internal security which is the raison d'etre of its army.
Further, in the highly unlikely event of British military
action against Guatemala, the United States would, in
the terms of the Rio treaty, have to support Guatemala.
If these factors were not enough, there must be consid-
ered the general weight of suspicion by all Caribbean
and Latin American states of any US initiative. On an-
other level, the Americans for Belizean Independence
pressure group formed in 1975 was encouraged by the
Anglo Exploration Inc., which was seeking exclusive
exploration rights for offshore oil, an area where both
Britain and Belize had not been successful.
It is not surprising therefore that both Britain and
the United States have declined to enter into any bi-
lateral treaty relationship with Belize, guaranteeing its
territorial integrity. In 1969, in response to Britain's of-
fer of a general defense agreement, George Price as
Belizean Premier called for a defense pact involving the
Commonwealth Caribbean states, Canada and Britain.
Later, he suggested that the United States, Canada and
Mexico join Britain in a multilateral agreement so as to
minimize the role of the United States and Britain. The
countries concerned refused to consider the proposal.
Further modification to the British position came in
early 1977 when the British government offered to
maintain a military presence in an independent Belize
for up to five years, in order to train a Belizean army.
The effectiveness of the latter would, however, be in
doubt, as the total population of Belize is less than
140,000.

Internationalizing The Dispute
Institutionally, Belize has internationalized the dispute
not so much to obtain offers of mediation or to inaugu-
rate any peace-keeping machinery, but to publicize the
cause of self-determination and to mobilize opinion
onto its side. So far as the West Indies was concerned,
Belize had remained aloof from the various attempts
at federation and greater economic links. However, its
failure to enter the Central American Common Market
(CACM) in 1968 precluded meaningful cooperation with

its continental neighbors, leading to a successful ap-
plication to join the Caribbean Free Trade Association
(CARIFTA) in 1971 after having been an observer since
1968. Just as the Economic Commission for Latin
America (ECLA) study was related to the search for a
diplomatic solution to the Guatemalan claim, joining
CARIFTA (succeeded in 1973 by the Caribbean Com-
munity, CARICOM), gave specific economic and poli-
tical advantages related to the dispute.
Economically, it had been natural to believe that
Belize's disputed international status had influenced
the availability of foreign development funds, public or
private. CARIFTA membership helped to counter this
feeling as it gave access to far greater funds than Britain
could, or would, offer. It also provided an opportunity
for Belize to participate as part of a group in discussions
relative to the implications of Britain entering the Eu-
ropean Economic Community (EEC). Belize eventually
became an EEC associate under Part IV of the Treaty
of Rome. Like the ECLA report forecasted, it opened up
a new market for its agricultural produce in the high
food-import economies of Jamaica and the Eastern
Caribbean. Politically, it benefited by joining a body of
states with voices in the UN and OAS who were prepared
to voice strong support for its independence.
To allow Belize the necessary legal powers as a
colony to join in CARIFTA's activities, Britain amended
the constitution through new Letters Patent giving the
Premier or his delegate responsibility for external af-
fairs in certain circumstances. Psychologically and le-
gally boosted, a dynamic foreign policy emerged. In late
1973, the then Minister of Internal Affairs, Lindberg
Rogers, flew to Algiers to solicit support on the eve of
the Conference of Non-Aligned Heads of State; earlier,
the Eighth Conference of the Heads of Government in
the Caribbean called for a Scheme of Mutual Defense
against External Aggression at their meeting in Bar-
bados. While Belize was not the only Caribbean territory
on their minds, Price put great importance on this "show
of solidarity" which would, in his opinion, help to in-
fluence world public opinion in Belize's favor. Within
the Commonwealth nexus, expressions of support in-

tensified with further resolutions at the next Heads of
Government meeting in St. Lucia, and then at the Prime
Ministers' Conference in Kingston and London in 1975
and 1977 respectively. At both of these, secure defense
agreements were called for, to which Britain felt unable
to make a specific reply.
Further widening of the circle of allies was rapid,
beginning with the 16th Session of ECLA held in Trini-
dad in 1974, which Belize attended. This was followed
by support from Cuba, following a visit there by Jamaica's
Prime Minister Manley. Later, at the Conference of
Ministers for Foreign Affairs of Non-Aligned Nations at
Lima, Peru, Guatemala was denied observer status, and
the cause of Belizean independence was adopted as a
matter of policy. Representatives of Belize were invited
to attend the conference of Heads of State of non-aligned
countries in Sri Lanka during August 1976. A resolu-
tion pledging unconditional support for Belize was
passed at that time.
At a conference of Central American Foreign
Ministers in Guatemala City in October 1975, Guate-
mala obtained the support of CACM members, plus a
lukewarm Panama. However, earlier in 1974, delegates
from Latin American passed a resolution at a Labour
Union Conference in Guatemala City supporting the
Belizean cause, an event that embarrassed Guatemala.
Mexico also resumed an interest through its dormant
claim to the northern half of Belize. By 1975, Guate-
mala claimed specifically the southern half of the terri-
tory, south of the Sibun River. Its transfer to Guatemala
as 'Belice' would enable Guatemala to recognize an in-
dependent but much smaller Belize.
The internationalization of the dispute also led,
not unexpectedly, to the United Nations. Soon after the
rejection of the Webster proposals, Barbados complain-
ed at the General Assembly that the UN was not giving
the Belizean issue proper attention. Later, when the
Security Council met in Panama City in March 1973,
the Commonwealth Caribbean countries, who were
members of the United Nations, took the opportunity
to strongly criticize Guatemala.
Back in New York, not only were Belize's rights

CAPFBBFAN rVItW /17

reaffirmed by the Special Committee but in 1975, a
Guatemala-led resolution, challenging the Committee's
legal capacity to consider the matter on the grounds
that Belize had "never been a colony" but was "a terri-
tory illegally occupied," was overwhelmingly lost. Later,
the General Assembly adopted the pro-Belizean resolu-
tion, moved by Britain, Cuba and 61 'Third World' states,
by a vote of 115 to 8, with 15 abstentions. The UN also
considered the issue in 1976 and 1977, both in Belize's
favor. The voting figures for the latter showed even
greater support: 126 to 5 (the Central American nations
except Panama), with 13 abstentions.
This much-publicized success clearly indicated
that relationships changed in the Caribbean since 1974:
Guatemala was no longer able to count on the auto-
matic and positive support of Latin America. CARICOM
members achieved closer identification with 'Third
World' countries and the links between Mexico, Cuba
and the Commonwealth Caribbean, to be joined later
by Venezuela and Panama, were developing rapidly.
The events in New York also explain the expression in
military terms by Guatemala of its claim in 1975 and
1977. If independence was granted, her claims would
be more difficult to maintain and enforce in the face of
a combination of UN pressure and 'Third World' soli-
darity amounting to almost a moral collective security
system.

The OAS
But the problem remains and pressures in Guatemala,
largely but not exclusively from the right-wing and the
Indo-Catholic Church, to reify the article in the 1945
Constitution which labelled Belize as the 23rd depart-
miento,remain powerful. Obviously the dispute must
be resolved, but bearing in mind the emotionalism and
economic issues that underpin it, it must be settled in
a way which is politically and economically acceptable
to both sides, where no 'loss of face' is involved. This
must involve mediation, not with any third party whose
disinterestedness would be in doubt as with the United
States in 1965, but of a multilateral type, preferably an
international institution whose members are both fa-
miliar to the region and who will narrow the cultural gap
between the Commonwealth Caribbean and Iberian
America. Only the OAS fits these necessary specifica-
tions. Besides having hemispheric-wide interests, it has
facilities for the peaceful settlement of disputes and
machinery for adding to them.
Belize can neither be a member nor participate in
the activities of the OAS because of its colonial status.
Territorial controversies involving the American repub-
lics and European powers have a long history and it is
the habit of American states involved in such conflicts
to encourage anti-colonialism and to support provisions
for peaceful settlement of disputes. Following this
tradition, the Tenth Conference of the OAS (1954) ap-
proved resolutions to this effect which still apply to the
present day. It is not, therefore, surprising that when
the OAS Charter was revised through the Buenos Aires
Protocol in 1967, providing, inter alia, for the admis-
sion of new members, Article 8 made specific the ex-
clusion of all applicants with an unresolved border dis-
pute with an existing member. Thus, Guyana continues
to be restricted to observer status due to the Venezuelan
claim to Essequibo, Guayana.
18/ cArTBBAN REVIEW

The provisions of Article 8 have not, however,
prevented the Belizean question from being discussed
by the OAS. In fact, the two issues have been raised
together by the Commonwealth Caribbean members
of the OAS who have linked them by asserting that the
exclusion clause is particularly offensive to them as it
applies only to that group, and that this implied dis-
crimination is compounded by the sheer weight of Latin
American voting power when it comes to considering
Belizean or Guyanese rights. Jamaica has been the
severest critic of this attitude and at the second session
of the OAS General Assembly in 1972, Dudley Thompson
expressed Jamaica's inability to reconcile the anti-
colonial tradition in Latin America with what it saw as
the obvious attempt by the OAS to deny independence
to an American nation under the cloak of giving solidar-
ity to a member state whose territorial dispute is with
a departing colonial power. Barbados, a member not
noted for its radical policies, threatened to leave the
Organization if it persisted in using this "specious"
argument in order to do nothing. It is not, therefore,
surprising that Guatemala has in the past brought the
dispute to the OAS in the expectation of a favorable
result.

"Belize has internationalized the
dispute not so much to obtain offers
of mediation or to inaugurate any
peace-keeping machinery, but to
publicize the cause of self-
determination and to mobilize opinion
onto its side."

In 1972, it used the Organization to protest against
British military exercises. In this incident, 8000 men
were to undergo jungle training in Belize linked with
amphibious manoeuvress." A motion was successfully
sponsored at the OAS' Inter-American Juridical Com-
mittee which condemned the exercises as a threat to
peace and security in the region. The matter was passed
to the OAS Permanent Council and incorporated a
Guatemalan motion calling for all OAS members to
impose sanctions on both Britain and Belize. In response,
the British government offered observer facilities for
an OAS representative. The motion was withdrawn on
his appointment: his subsequent report stating that
Guatemala's claims were largely unfounded was re-
ceived by an indifferent Council.
It is my contention that it is the Caribbean and
Central American states, whatever their colonial heri-
tage, that hold the key to the further development of
the OAS. The question of Belize occupies the center of
this stage. Given that it is the uniquenesss of Belize as
the meeting place of the two cultures of the area, and
considering the nature and depth of the crisis, the dis-
pute must be seen as a test not only of the Organiza-
tion's effectiveness as a peacekeeping instrument
working in the interests of all, but also of its continuing
development away from Cold War concerns and, ul-
timately, of its very credibility.
Belize, as one of the four non-lberian communities
breaching "the Latin continuum on the whole American
continent from the Rio Grande to Cape Horn" has a
sizeable Latin population, and linguistic and cultural
orientation. It is no longer the case that all Latin Amer-
ican countries support Guatemala, as the activities of
Mexico, Venezuela, and Panama have shown. In other
words, the question of Belize presents both a desirable
opportunity for the new OAS to act politically in the
interests of all, to fulfill its ostensible responsibilities
for the peace and security of the Caribbean and Latin
American area, and to test its credibility and competence.
What of the current position? Mr. Ted Rowlands,
British Minister of State at the Foreign and Common-
wealth Office, has made clear his personal desire to
finally solve the problem during the term of the present
Labour Party administration. Concurrent with continu-
ing and successful efforts by Price and his talented
Lieutenant, Assad Shoman, to consolidate Caribbean
and Third World support which now includes Mexico,
Cuba, and very significantly, Venezuela British efforts
have intensified. They are concerned with the achieve-
ment of three linked objectives: to find a basis for set-
tlement with Guatemala, to seek Mexican agreement
and then to consult the Belizean government and
people as to their agreement. All are fraught with dif-
ficulties.

Although the original British aim of reaching the
basis of a settlement with the present military regime
of General Laugerud before its term expires in March
1978 has been abandoned, it has been variously report-
ed that Britain has offered to discuss the cession of a
portion of land in the Toledo district, in the potentially
oil-rich far south, duty-free access for Guatemalan
goods through Belizean ports, some measure of Guate-
malan veto over future Belizean international relations
and the financing of a $100m. oil refinery for Guatemala.
Only the latter has caused no reaction.
Obviously Mexico has an interest in any land deal,
but what of Belizean opinion? The conservative op-
position, the United Democratic Party (UDP) has totally
rejected any such arrangement; indeed, its leader, Dean
Lindo, has gone further in refusing to endorse any treaty
other than one covering general areas of mutually ben-
eficial economic cooperation. Whether this uncompro-
mising stand is linked to its known distaste for inde-
pendence (which would follow a settlement) and an ap-
preciation of the growing support for the UDP for purely
internal reasons, is debatable. The PUP, on the other
hand, is distinctly unhappy about these rumored pro-
posals as it has always stood for territorial integrity
and the assumption of full sovereign status for Belize
which of legal necessity must include full control over
its foreign policy. But it has also repeatedly argued for
independence and the question is therefore of how
much compromise can it (and Belize) afford? A further
complication is the British insistence that a settlement
must be popularly acceptable. While the UDP are
adamant that a referendum or similar is essential, the
PUP see a decision by the House of Assembly within a
representational democracy as being more suitable to
the situation. It also recognizes that a total refusal to
consider a compromise will mean a continued British
pressure and a possible erosion of Third World support.
But it does insist that any settlement must be wide-rang-
ing and final, including not only the Mexican question
but also the Honduran dimension which involves the
question of territorial waters. Only then, it argues, will
the genuine sense of fear felt by Belizeans of Guatemala
be forever lifted.
It is clear that the immediate and long-term future
is one of considerable interest. Guatemala can afford
to bide its time indeed it is in its interest to do so. But
as one of the four non-lberian communities south of
the Rio Grande, will Belize be able to exercise natural
self-determination against an historical claim from a
bygone era? Will it be a cause, or effect, of a further
deterioration of general relationships between the
English-speaking and Iberian communities in the Cen-
tral and South Americas? Or will the crisis continue to
fester and create new alignments which may excite the
interest of non-Caribbean powers? Or will it lead to
peace and the final act of European decolonization in
Central America?

A. E. Thorndike heads the Department of International Relations and
Politics at North Staffordshire Polytechnic, England.

CArHHBAN rFVIeW /19

The

Sacred

Drums

of

cumi

f///^4. fl

For the most part the term "Afro-
Cuban" brings to mind rhythms
such as the Conga, the Rumba or
the Ch6-Chb-Ch6, without realizing
that such forms are in many cases
the result of a process of hybridiza-
tion between African and Spanish
cultures. Among the peasants of the
interior part of Cuba, one may still
hear fragments of very old Iberian
music that has little in common with
popular city music. Likewise, one
may also hear true Afro-Cuban
music which emerges from a purely
African form, and has maintained
its character despite the abolition
of slavery in Cuba over 100 years
ago.
The African slave trade continued
in Cuba well into the nineteenth
century. There are many among the
older generation of Black Cubans
whose parents actually were born
in Cuba, and a few aged people in
the country who claim to have been
born in Africa. African traditions
have survived strongly, in some
respects, up to the present day.
Music and dancing of the African
variety have persisted as in other
parts of the New World (Jamaica,
Brazil, Haiti) although during the
colonial period such cultural mani-
festations were restricted primarily
to the cabildos, which were associa-
tions whose aims were mutual help,
and which were usually composed
of slaves from the same ethnic or
geographical area.
There are actually many impor-
tant African cults that exist in Cuba
presently, such as the Lucumi, the
Congo, and the Dahomean. The
Lucumi -- as the African slaves of
Yoruba origin were called in Cuba --
came to the New World from the
region of Africa that lies between
the Niger River and the Nigeria-
Dahomey border. As among the
African Yoruba, the spirits or deities
of the Yoruba pantheon are called
orishas. They include many gods
well known to the African Yoruba:
Chang6, the deity of the storm and
lightning; Obatal, god of war; Ogin,
the god of the iron and the mount-
ains; Eleggua, the guardian of the
Each batA is held on the lap of the drummer
(called olori) firmly by a cord passed around
and under the knees, and the righthand usually
plays the deep tones -i.e. on the large drum-
head. Notice the harness-type bells at both
ends of the drum. These are called 'chawouro"
or "tchaworo," and their main function is to
"call" the deities when the drums are playing
during religious ceremonies.

20/ CAfBBCAN FcIlEW

gateways and crossroads; Otchuin,
the river deity; YemayA, the deity
of the sea; Babali Aye, the healing
god, and many others. Lucumi
music thus is mainly, though not
exclusively, devoted to the supplica-
tion and praise of these orishas or
deities. It is here where the bata
drums perform a most important
function.
The bata drums are in fact the
most important of all drums of the
Afro-Cuban people. They have a
religious character, and are used
only in religious ceremonies. These
are not the only Afro-Cuban drums
used for rituals (as there are many
other of Congolese and Dahomean
origin) but the baths are undoubted-
ly the most important of all, and the
only place in the New World where
they have been found in almost
exact resemblance to those of
Nigeria is in Cuba.
The bath drums are approximate-
ly goblet-shaped and have goatskin
heads on both sides. They are thus
ambi-percussive and bi-membraned.
The two heads (called tcha-tchh) of
each drum are mounted on hoops
around which the skins are wrapped,
and are held in place by cords of
leather thongs laced from one hoop
to the other. At an early stage in the
lacing the vertical cords have a
multiple V appearance. They are
drawn tight, and further tension of
the skins for tuning is achieved by
interlacing another cord around the
circumference of the drum near one
of both heads. Surplus cord is finally
wound around the drum near the
middle of the narrow part, giving the
appearance of a belt. Inasmuch as
one head is larger than the other,
considerable range of tones is pos-
sible on each instrument.
The three bath drums are known
under the sacred name of Afin and
the profane name of l1. Apparently,
the term Afin is an Afro-Cuban cor-
ruption of the Yoruba word dga or
adza which means "to engage in
war;" "to fight," or "strong," or "fu-
rious storm." Afi or AgnA is actual-
ly the name of the supernatural
deity of the baths; it is the one that
defends them, thunders and fights
against their enemies. In Cuba the
baths are also referred to as Abanna
but such a name is probably incor-
rect because Abanni is a special
deity that acts as a worshipper for
Chang6: Il is the most important
drum among the Yoruba. In their

I. 1' I
The three bat6 drums: the ly5 (the largest) at the center (30 inches in height); the medium-sized
one or ltotentele or Omel Enk6 (25.2 inches in height) at the left; and the smallest or Okonkol6 at
the right hand side (20.9 inches high).

language lu means to "hit" or "play."
Among the Afro-Brazilians of Bahia
the same term is used for a type of
drum called tabaque grande, but
such a drum is different both in
structure and in tone from that of
Cuba. Some people believe it is
probably of Dahomean origin.

The Mother of the Drums
Each Afin or 11 of the baths has a
specific name. The largest is the lya,
the medium-sized is the Itotele,
Itontel, or Omel6 Enk6, and the
smallest the Konkol6 or Okonkol6.
lyA means "mother" in the Yoruba
language. This is the reason why
the lyA is referred to as "the mother
of the drums." Its larger head often
has a thick circular patch of a red
resin-like substance applied to the
surface near the center. This is
called in Yoruba ida (and in Cuba
is named fardela) and its function
is conceived to be that of moderate
damping. Around the body of the
lya near the large head is a belt of
harness-type bells which are called
chawuor6. The second drum, the
Itotele seems to have derived its
name from the Yoruba words toto
and tele meaning "completely," and
the prefix "i" which is used to denote
action, probably because this action
"continues the action" after the lyA,
which is the leading one. The small-
est of the drums, the Okonkol6
derives its name from the word
konkol6 meaning "God of the child-

ren," referring to the fact that the
Okonkol6 is the smallest of the
baths, the baby or boy, and the lya
is their mother. The word Okonkol6
has probably been formed by the
substantive kon (to sing) and lo
meaning "to play a drum or a
musical instrument."
Each bath is firmly held in the
lap of the drummer, called "olori,"
by passing a cord around and under
the knees, and the right hand usual-
ly plays the deep tones on the large
drumhead. The lya batS is always
in the center, flanked by the smaller
drums, and its player, named kpua-
taki or olubatO is considered to be
the chief.
To the untrained ear the sound
of the bate drums may represent
little more than noise. However, the
drums "talk language," and the bata
express themselves in Lucumi lan-
guage as their notes come out in an
orderly series of sound which ag-
glutinate to form words. The com-
plex combination of rhythms and
sounds of the baths constitute what
the oloris refer to as a "six-hand
conversation."
A good bate drummer actually
must know a good repertoire, a
multitude of lithurgies, rhythms and
dances. The drummers do not usual-
ly sing when they play. As a matter
of fact in certain complex rhythms
they could not sing even if they
wanted to because of the great deal
of concentration their job requires.
c'Am IAN rtVI(W /21

The performing of ritual songs is a
most serious business, and a wrong
note could actually result in a pun-
ishment by the gods. There is a
story of a drummer in Havana around
1950 who failed to play a song ded-
icated to Chang6 in the proper way,
and mysteriously "became ill" with-
out any apparent reason having to
remain in bed for nearly a week.
Descending Upon
A Follower
To play a bata is not always an easy
task. Sometimes the drummers
have to play for almost three hours
without any interruption. In fact, in
some situations, like in that of a
santo subido -- that is, the deity
descending upon a follower -- the
drummers have to keep going. If
this were not done, it would mean
the abandonment of the god, a
grave and serious sin that not only
would be severely punished by the
deity, but would also represent a
blow to the drummer's prestige and
reputation. Interestingly enough the
drummers, rarely if ever, fall in
trance themselves although there
seems to be no adequate psycho-
logical explanation for this.
The bath drums are supposed to
possess a secret, or afuob6, which
is the peak of consecration from
which emanates their magical pow-
er. Actually very few worshippers
of the cult know what the secret is.
Some point out that the bats carry
nuts inside, which are usually known
as mates. Others maintain that they
have magical herbs, called eggiie,
prepared according to the god's
specific wishes. It has also been
claimed that inside the bats there
is a coco africano, or African coco-
nut. The information provided by
the orishas, or by the drummers
themselves, sometimes is contra-
dictory, maybe intentionally as they
feel that this is nobody's business
except their own.
Once the drums have been con-
secrated -- which is permanent as
long as the drum itself is not dam-
aged or destroyed -- a special care
must be taken. When not being
used, they must be placed with their
smaller head looking up. When put
away the three drums must be hang-
ing from the wall, and they never
must touch the ground (which would
be considered an irreverence to the
deities) unless they are to be "fed,"
and even in such circumstances
22/ CATH3B-:AN rKVIfW

Close-up of an Itotel_ bata (the medium-sized one), on display at the National Museum Havana.
S ." - "

Close-up of an Itotele bati (the medium-sized one), on display at the National Museum Havana.

they must be placed on a carpet or
a mat.
The "feeding" of the drums,
known in Yoruba as ifial, proceeds
the celebration of a ceremony, and
it is in fact an essential element of
it. A rather elaborate process is fol-
lowed: the priest, or babalawo, kills
a rooster or chicken, and removes
its main organs: liver, heart, feet
and wings. To all this is added a bit
of water, and a kind of 90 proof al-
cohol known in Cuba as aguardiente.
After this mixture has been thorough-
ly mixed and is hot, it is placed on
a rounded plate next to the drums
on the floor so that they can "eat
the food's spirits."
Sacred drums cannot be stretch-
ed and tuned by the use of fire, like
the profane or popular drums be-
cause this would be considered a
blasphemy to the deities. Thus when

players wish to stretch the skins
they must, depending on the type
of drum, beat the sides on the small
keys or the corners of the tighten-
ing system, or else put the drums
in the sun. For important feasts and
celebrations the bats are decorated
with silk handkerchiefs and various
kinds of skirts edged with laces, or
with various other materials like
aprons covered with pieces of sea
shells or glass.
How do the drummers learn to
play the baths, and what is the actual
process of learning? It must be
pointed out that the primary condi-
tion is that the men be full-grown,
that they be probados (that is, full
men with no trace of femininity
whatsoever) and that they be of a
high moral integrity, free of having
committed any offenses or crimes.
The actual and perhaps only require-

Ir
-- -l

The three bata drummers, with the "kpuataki" (or chief drummer) in the center.

ment is that they be firm believers
of the Lucumi religion, and that they
have the theoretical knowledge and
the practical ability to carry out
their musical profession.
Actually it takes a considerable
length of time to learn the drum-
ing techniques, depending of course
on the actual ability of the trainee.
There is actually no school for learn-
ing as such, nor are there any for-
mal lectures given. Rather, recruit-
ment follows a selective process.
Neither is there any specific method
of instruction nor any specialized
musical knowledge required. In fact,
in most cases the drummers have
no idea as to how to read the musi-
cal pentagram! All it really takes is
a good ear and a desire to learn.
The beginner usually starts out
his learning process first by offering
his services as yamboki, or assistant
to the olubatas (or chief drummers).
The yamboki is responsible for carry-
ing the drums wherever they are
moved. He also helps to clean them,
and normally assists in the prepara-
tion of the "food" for the drums.
After this preliminary process he is
expected to go to all the rituals,
enabling him to gradually catch all
the rhythms and tones of the drums.
He is also expected to learn a great
many Lucumi songs dedicated to
the different deities.

Few Masters
During the learning process the
trainee usually sits with the drum
on his lap and his hands in the right
position, the right one on the small-
est membrane and the left on the
largest. The master drummer stands
behind him so that both of their
hands coincide on the drums' skin.
This learning process usually starts
from the smallest drum, the Okon-
kol6 through the Itotele and finally
to the Iya. Few people actually
master the complexities of the
latter. In fact it usually takes from
one to three years to master the first
two baths whereas in the case of
the lyh sometimes it may take be-
tween three and four years before
one is qualified to play in any cere-
mony. There are stories of some
bath drummers who had been play-
ing for twenty years and not yet be-
come kpuataki (Iyd drummers) both
because of the complexities, and
because the different levels, tones
and semi-tones are so difficult to
learn. While there are certain play-

ers who have never actually master-
ed the lya, nor even the ItotelM, it
is almost absolutely necessary for
them to keep on practicing so that
they will not lose proficiency. It is
not rare in certain parts of the Ha-
vana and Matanzas Provinces (where
the bats are most common) to
hear the musicians rehearsing for
several hours.
As mentioned earlier, the bath
drums can only be played, repaired
and cleaned by men. It is considered
to be a sacrilege for women to touch
or even approach the baths since it
"weakens them." As in many an-
cient religions, the Cuban Lucumis
believe in the "impure character"
of women as a consequence of men-
struation, and women cannot there-
fore manipulate the most sacred
objects of the cult.
Part of the learning process of
the bath trainee is the actual build-
ing of the drums themselves and
their repairing. Constructing a sacred
drum like the bath is a difficult task;
it requires ceremonies, songs and
particular offerings; and only certain
kinds of woods determined by the

oracles of Ifa and those of the dilog-
g0nes or shells can be used to cut
its casing. When construction is
complete, the secret of Agnh has
been placed inside, and its skin
adjusted, other baptized drums send
it "the voice" so that it can produce
rhythmic lithurgical beats. It is only
after this ceremony, where only
"authorized" drummers are allowed,
that the drum is considered to have
ceased to become profane, and be-
comes henceforth a living being,
possessing all the powers of Agnh.

Roberto Nodal, an anthropologist with the
University of Wisconsin Milwaukee, is com-
piling a research inventory on current anthro-
pological research in Cuba.
Photographs from: Fernando Ortiz Los instru-
mentos de la mibsica afrocubana, Habana:
Direcci6n de Cultura del Ministerio de Educa-
ci6n de Cuba, 1954, IV.

CARPBBCAN KPVIEW /23

Third Symposium of

Caribbean Spanish Dialectology

Florida International University
May 12-13, 1978

The third symposium on Caribbean Spanish Dialectology,
begun in 1976 at the University of Puerto Rico, continued at the
Institute Tecnol6gico de Santo Domingo in 1977, will be held at
F.I.U., May 12-13, 1978. The original organizers of the Symposia
were a group of specialists in Caribbean Spanish dialectology who
sought to provide an international forum for exchange of informa-
tion on current research in a field virtually untouched in this cen-
tury until the 1970's.

A number of scholarly papers will be presented as well as
two panel discussions; one panel will focus on Miami Cuban
Spanish while the second panel will focus on linguistic aspects of
Caribbean Spanish. Participants include: Dr. Humberto L6pez Mo-
rales, Tracy Terrell, Henrietta Cedergren, Jorge Guitart, and John
Staczek.
For further information, please contact:

Dr. Frances M. Aid
Department of Modern Languages
Florida International University
Tamiami Trail
Miami, Florida 33199

A Story by Ren6 MarquBs
Translated by Charles R. Pilditch T

He observed the other man's image reflected in the mir-
ror. He had turned halfway to the right and was speaking
to the mulatto woman. She was smiling, framing her
dark face in her two open palms, her elbows leaning on
the bar before the glass of beer, the foam was beginning
to fade. Suddenly the woman began to laugh convul-
sively, throwing back her torso, her right hand pressing
upon her opulent bust, her moist, white teeth hurling
strange reflections under the reddish neon light. The
man laughed quietly, pleased by the woman's reaction
to his recently expressed humor. He took the glass of
rum and soda and moistened his lips, puckered from
the effort to control his laughter.
Through the mirror he observed the two of them
wrapped in an atmosphere of cigarette smoke and neon
light, as if enveloped in red gauze, or as though that same
gauze at least covered the polished surface of the mir-
ror, obscuring it somewhat, while his scrutinizing eyes -
ready to look elsewhere at the couple's slightest move -
continued to capture, photographically, the smallest
details.
"Have you found out anything?"
"Not yet."
"You're losing your sense of smell."
"Give me time, sergeant. It's a difficult case."
The piece of blue cloth in the bartender's lean hand
moved repeatedly over the green formica surface. He
perceived the motion within his range of vision but did
not shift his attention from the couple. Inexplicably, he
was irritated by the other man's serene expression.
"What's so difficult about the case?"
"We know each other well, right sergeant? You
only use me when your own men have failed."
He was bothered now not so much by the woman's
laughter as by the complacency which that laughter
engendered on the other's face. The man appeared calm,
almost happy in his carefree gesture of raising the rum
and soda to his lips, while instead, he was being de-
voured by the frustration of not having obtained any
information in his two months of spying. And he began
to feel that familiar and impotent rage which would slow-
ly become something worse, something burning which
rose from his feet to his puny chest like a breath of de-
struction threatening him, but which he in some diabol-
ically inevitable way channeled toward others. Yes; it
was there. The familiar and unmistakable taste of hatred.
He felt better now, secure, with a sureness that he
did not ordinarily experience; and he thought that such
a feeling that wild coursing of his blood beneath the
hot flesh, that beating of his heart in his temples as well
as in his chest, that involuntary twitching of the muscles
in his jaws, hands, and hook-like fingers would enable
him to carry out his mission completely. Because in
that way, under the pressure of hatred, his senses open-
24/ CARBBEAN rtEVEW

ed forth like multiple radars in order to capture even
the waves hidden most deeply in the convoluted souls
of his prey.
"A rum and soda. And another beer."
As he gave the order, the other man's eyes met
his. He felt the cold, almost hard and hostile look, but
let it penetrate him without offering any resistance, his
whole self becoming bland and pliable, the expression
on his features softening with lightning-like rapidity,
his eyes innocently open, an easy, ample smile slowly
illuminating his face as his right hand greeted with a
cordial gesture the hard, cold image reflected in the
mirror. The other man acknowledged his greeting with
a slight, barely perceptible nod of his head; but he ignor-
ed this fact and, taking the glass of gin that he had be-
fore him, got up and approached the couple.
He cheerfully slapped the man on the back and
extended his right hand in an open gesture intended to
disarm him of any suspicion, doubt, or resistance.
"Hello! Long time no see!"
The other man looked at the outstretched hand.
He hesitated a few seconds. Finally he shook it rapidly.
Then he turned halfway around on the stool, apparently
to face him better, but in reality he realized it at once -
to force him to remove his left arm, which in a gesture
of intimate familiarity still rested upon the other's back.
"I see you're in good company."
The woman smiled, more at his wink than at his
words. Then she looked questioningly at the other man.
She finally decided to sip her beer, thus avoiding all
possibility of entering into the conversation.
There was an uncomfortable, almost embarrass-
ing, pause. The man observed him. That's all: he ob-
served him.
"We have reason to believe he belongs to a group
conspiring against the government."
The silent composure of the man made him uneasy.
He felt the need to break that silence. Because the silence
could become a weapon to be used against him. He
began to talk, to speak hastily about the news of the
day, diverse topics interspersed here and there with
questions that sought an expression of solidarity on the
part of the other man (or with the hint of a solidarity
which the other one stubbornly abstained from expres-
sing).
Suddenly he kept quiet. An icy current ran up his
back, paralizing him. It was not so much the unexpected
weight of the hand on his shoulder as the instantly rec-
ognizable voice saying:
"Excuse me a minute."
The Negro was there; but he was not looking at
him, but at the other man. He saw how the two hands
clasped each other: the one dark, fleshy, huge; the other
white, thin, veined; and he heard the voices, also in

INFORMER

: ----
1wr

Perspective I ", Gregorio Cuartas, 1973 acrylic on linen. Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum and Art Cen-
ters, Miami, Florida; from the Martihez-Canas Collection.
CAtBbCAN PIVIEW 125

__

contrast (that of the Negro guttural, disturbed, perhaps
even trembling as it formed the words):
"I wanted to let you know that my brother Pedro's
in jail."
And the other voice calm, with well modulated in-
flections in spite of the surprised tone:
"I'm sorry. Nothing serious, I suppose."
"Breaking the drug law. Some stool pigeon squeal-
ed on him. I just wanted to tell you. I know he
likes you."
"I like him too. We studied together. Is there
anything I can do?"
"You could go to see him. He'd feel better. I mean,
it would cheer him up."
"I'll go, of course."
"Thanks."
The Negro turned and went toward three men who
had remained a short distance from the bar. He saw that
one of them was blond and had on an absurd orange-
colored tee shirt. The four men moved slowly away and
sat down at a table beside the jukebox.
He remained motionless, still paralized by that
feeling of fear which he experienced on hearing the
voice for the first time. At no time had the Negro looked
at him. Yet instinct told him that the conversation held
with the other man was in some way directed at him.
He had the desire to get away, but he saw the glass in
his hand. He realized that he had not paid and thought
that an attempt to leave would only attract the other
men's attention. His eyes turned again toward the couple
and, in spite of himself, there was an imploring look on
his face. But both had turned their backs. He hesitated
a few seconds. Finally he approached, trying desperate-
ly to put forth his most casual smile.
"This round's on me."
"No, thanks," the other man's voice said dryly.
He felt the anxiety of his abandonment. A fearful
anguish was invading his soul. A sudden, almost tan-
gible loneliness was attacking his being, engulfing it,
suffocating it completely. The backs of the couple grew
monstrous, becoming now a huge, impenetrable wall.
Finally his small, timid, choked voice emerged.
"I'll see you later."
The woman turned halfway around without even
smiling. The other man remained still. He headed back
to his seat, glancing first toward the four men at the
table.
As he sat down, he noticed through the mirror
how they were watching him. He pretended not to see
them and slowly sipped the rest of the gin in his glass.
The Negro got up and put a coin in the jukebox. The
belly of the machine lighted up as though by magic.
And the absurd, many-colored fantasy was magic in the
mirror. The shriek of a cornet introduced a rock'n roll.
The Negro returned to his seat. Protected by the curtain
of sounds, the four heads bent over the table. The blond
in the orange tee shirt was speaking now, carefully ar-
ticulating each word. The others were listening.
He thought the moment fitting. He made a sign to
the bartender and was about to ask for the check when
through the mirror he saw the Negro's eyes fixed on the
back of his neck. On this side of the cold glass, the sal-
low, bony face awaited his order. His glance slipped to-
ward the phone resting inertly on a shelf behind the bar
between a bottle of anisette and another of whiskey. He
26/ CABBEAN PeVICW

looked at the bartender. He realized it was absurd, but
out of anguish he silently tried to communicate his de-
spair to him. Time and again his eyes went from the black
phone to the yellowish face. The bartender watched him
indifferently. The impassiveness of that face was identical
to that of the mechanical object. And through the mir-
ror, the Negro's eyes fixed implacably on the back of
his neck.
"Gimme the same," he ordered faintly. And now
he felt completely turned off.
Then he heard the woman's laughter. Startled, he
looked at the pair. They were engaged in a lively con-
versation, ignoring his presence. Behind them, the door
lay open to the world of the street. They could go if they
wanted to. He didn't say it. He only thought it. And now
to the confused whirlwind of his sensations there was
added a sharp feeling of envy. If, in the last two months,
he had gotten some basis for his accusation, the other
man would not be there now, free to go out into the
street through the open door, free, that is, to do what
at this moment was irremediably forbidden to him.
"Your gin." The bartender's voice brought him
back to the menacing reality of the bar.
He saw before him the clear, fragrant drink. He
raised the glass. As he brought it to his lips, he felt a
shudder of terror. The Negro's gaze, in the mirror, was
fixed no longer on his neck but on his very eyes. The
music from the jukebox ceased. Simultaneously, the
rainbow in the monster's belly was extinguished. A sud-
den silence flowered in the entire area lighted by the
blood-colored neon. The blond fellow and the two other
men turned slowly around: they too fixed their gaze
upon him through the mirror.
There was .no longer any hatred, simply fear; a
brute, physical fear that chilled his heart and made
every fiber in his body tremble. His hand, unable to hold
the glass, fell slowly; but the glass escaped his fingers,
spilling the liquid on the polished surface of the bar. He
saw the glass roll like a tiny tunnel until it reached the
edge, hesitate there, then fall and disappear from his
sight. The crash of the glass breaking on the tile floor
rang out frightfully. The half-melted ice cubes emitted
red, green, and yellow sparkles as they danced on the
glittering formica.
It was then that he felt a sharp cramp piercing his
bowels. The vital, urgent desire was even more power-
ful than his terrible fear. He stood up and turned around.
Silence clouded everything, or perhaps it was the sweat
pouring copiously from his forehead. He saw nothing
except a reddish void beyond which there confusedly
emerged like something out of focus a distorted sign
representing presumably representing an arrow.
In spite of the fact that the outer world was confused
- his senses dulled to the perception of that vague world
- there was within him something lucid which permitted
him to perceive a disturbing reality: the situation was
not new or even surprising, but simply the repetition of
something now unavoidable in his life, something that
had kept recurring since long ago and that perhaps
went beyond his life, before he was born or before those
who gave him life were born, to some dark milleniums
of the past where the Cain-like roots carried by each
man in the depths of his being originated, but which he
could only identify at certain moments he himself had
lived, his voice always sounding forth accusingly: Papa

come quick, mommy's there, talking to a man, or away
from home, in the carefree clamor of school, Teacher,
teacher, Johnny wrote dirty words in the boy's room,
or nearer in time, under the iron discipline imposed by
those who encouraged his hatred by means of the war,
Lieutenant, they are playing cards in that tent, right
up to full adulthood, I'm telling you, boss. Samuel
V&zquez is talking out against the Director, always
the same, the eternal accusation repeating itself under
different guises, Yes, sergeant. I heard him shout:
Liberty or death!, repeating itself over and over, Confi-
dentially, corporal: He keeps the dope hidden in the
cistern, without his being able to avoid it, the deed re-
peating itself like an eternal phenomenon against which
he tried to struggle on remote occasions, but which he
now accepted as part of his nature, something that
would always happen, painfully converting his destiny
into mere routine, or having others convert it for him
into an infernal profession.
He advanced through the darkness, his left hand
soothing the cramp in his bowels, the right one groping
the air in an attempt to brush away the red haze that
was flooding his world. He finally arrived at the area
pointed to by the arrow, where all the redness disappear-
ed. His hand struck against something strong, hard. In
vain he tried to push aside the obstacle in his path, his
eyes scrutinizing that thick, abysmal night. Everything
there was black. Everything? From the darkest depths
of hell two enormous eyes shone forth immaculately
white. He made a desperate effort to retrace his steps,
but he felt a hand seize his throat and then an iron fist
that fell like a hammer on his right cheek. He hurled his
first outcry of pain. Blows and screams followed one
another with dizzying speed, his voice strangely and
slowly becoming something hoarse and non-human
because he was no longer articulating shouts, but rather
the grunts of a beast wounded in its very entrails.
He wanted to throw himself to the floor, but the
claw-like hand held his body erect as the fist ceaseless-
ly chastised his face and head. He did not try to defend
himself. And that was precisely his defense. To resist
would have meant death. He remained defenseless
receiving his punishment, aware that in this way the
avenging rage of which he was the object would vanish
all the sooner. At first he had cried out from pain and
fright, but now he no longer felt the one or the other.
Nevertheless, he continued to bellow, perhaps because
this humiliating show of cowardice might please the
infuriated Negro, thus lessening his anger, (or for the
possibility of attracting a police patrol with the sound
of his voice.)
Suddenly, he felt the brutal hand release its grasp,
and his body toppled to the floor. He remained motion-
less, groaning in a mournful rhythm. And he heard the
tight voice spit out the insult:
"Squealer!"
The Negro's feet withdrew toward the archway
separating the lighted area from the shadowy corridor.
There, beneath the arch, were outlined the silhouettes
of the blond and the two other men, silent spectators
obstructing the light.
He thought everything was over. But from his posi-
tion his face pressed against the foul-smelling floor -
he could see that the blond fellow was handing the Negro
an automobile antenna. Seized by a new fear, he thought

he would die. My God, don't let him do it!
The Negro looked at the murderous weapon and
hesitated.
"Remember your brother," the blond fellow said.
And his voice sounded like the deafening trumpet of
an avenging angel.
The Negro clutched the antenna and retraced his
steps.
"Don't do it, for God's sake, don't do it!" he scream-
ed desperately.
There was a bright metallic flash and the chromium
plated steel rod sank into his shoulder, parting the tissue
horribly. He howled forth his frightening pain, rolling
and twisting like one possessed. The blood spurted out,
staining his shirt and darkening the floor.
"Squealer!" he heard once more through his un-
ceasing pain.
The footsteps retreated. He was left moaning, al-
most unconscious. When he at last opened his eyes, he
saw the archway empty. Beyond it, only the man and
woman remained; and they were just leaving the bar
together. He looked at the figure of the man as he was
going out into the street. A cold hate filled his eyes. He
could not avoid it. That part of him which had always
remained lucid vowed: You won't escape me. I'm go-
ing to inform on you too. And his conscience mused
on the thought, rounding it out: Sooner or later, I'm
going to inform on you.
He heard steps approaching. Bleeding and in pain,
he attempted to get up. They're coming to throw me
out. He tried again, but he couldn't. He knew that the
bartender would at least take the trouble to drag him as
far as the street. And he suddenly experienced a strange
feeling of well-being. Nothing mattered now. Nothing.
Except the counselling prospect of a new accusation.
He let his face fall on the hard, cold floor and shut his
eyes. From the millennial roots of his hatred his lips,
misshapen from the beating, formed a grimace (a pucker-
ing, rather, or a slight crease) that perhaps could have
been or was in reality a smile.

Rend Marques, the well-known Puerto Rican
writer, is the author of El puertorriquefo d6cil,
La carreta, Juan Bobo y la dama Occidente,
Palm Sunday, Los soles truncos, Un niho azul
para esa sombra, Sacrificio en el Monte Moriah,
Otro Dia Nuestro, and many other works. Char-
les Pilditch, his translator, teaches at Rutgers
University.

CABBCAN REVIEW 127

Dreams of

Integl action
0. Carlos Stoetzer

Like other regions of the world the Caribbean also has
attempted to find some kind of political and economic
union. However, in view of the extraordinary variety in
the area with its Spanish-, English-, French-, and Dutch-
speaking peoples and its different racial background
and mixtures, the result had to be more difficult and
cumbersome. Moreover, it found expression on differ-
ent levels.
The first to announce plans for a political union
was the Spanish-speaking area of the Caribbean. The
reasons were obvious since the Spanish area was in
many ways ahead of the other regions. After all, the
great Spanish Constitution of 1812 of Cadiz had been
valid in Cuba and Puerto Rico from 1812-1814, 1820-
1823, and again in 1836. The Constitution not only rep-
resented in these islands the beginning of their liberal-
ism and constitutionalism, but was also the basis for
new institutions. With the Constitution of Cadiz both
Cuba and Puerto Rico were represented in the two
Spanish Cortes of 1812 and 1820, at a time when the
other areas of the West Indies were mere colonial terri-
tories with no representation at all.
Spain lost an empire by 1825, but Cuba, Puerto
Rico and the Philippines remained within the Spanish
realm. When the Dominican Republic was able in 1844
to achieve independence from Haiti, the possibility
arose for cooperation between the three Spanish-speak-
ing parts of the West Indies. When the Dominican Re-
public came again under Spanish rule in 1861 the pos-
sibility seemed even greater. It was then that the concept
of the Confederaci6n antillana was born. It did not lose
its appeal in 1868 even with the unsettling events in
Spain and the Spanish Antilles: the September coup in
Spain ending the rule of Queen Isabella II and giving
hopes both for the solution of Spanish domestic prob-
lems and for some kind of autonomy for Cuba and
Puerto Rico; the Grito de Lares in Puerto Rico and the
beginning of the ten-year war in Cuba. Moreover, by
1865 Spain had lost Santo Domingo which then had
regained its independence.

The Antilles Confederation
The idea of the Confederaci6n antillana meant that the
three Spanish-speaking areas should enter into a closer
political and economic union, with or without Spain. It
was argued that all three countries had common bonds
of culture, language and religion, and common geo-
graphic location, and that even the color of their skin
made them different from their Caribbean neighbors.
Though the concept was highly idealistic, it received
great attention. The September coup in Spain raised
hopes for a degree of representative government and
autonomy for both Spanish metropolitan and overseas
areas (Catalonia, the Basque area, Cuba, Puerto Rico),
and for a more cooperative arrangement between the
Spanish Antilles themselves. It was then that Ramon
Emeterio Betances launched the idea of the Confede-
raci6n antillana.
Later when Cuba rose up under Jose Marti in 1895
in its second great struggle against Spain, and when
Spain lost the remnants of its empire, it seemed that a
new opportunity offered itself for the concept of the
Confederaci6n antillana. This time it was launched by
Puerto Rico's greatest thinker, Eugenio Maria de Hostos.

281 CARBBAN rCVJEW

All his life Hostos had been fascinated by the idea of
confederation. Hostos had lived many years in the
Dominican Republic and was responsible with his pro-
gram of normal schools for the great cultural renais-
sance in that country at the end of the century. His wife
was Cuban -- Belinda Otilia de Ayala, the daughter of a
Cuban exile. Thus, it was natural that he would feel a
particular affinity for the concept of the Confederaci6n
antillana.
Hostos considered himself more than a Puerto
Rican (the Patria chica), but an antillano. Already in a
speech at the Madrid Ateneo (December 20, 1868) he
talked about a more intimate relationship between the
three Spanish-speaking areas of the West Indies. Later,
in 1875, while in New York, he repeated the same con-
cepts, and they would reappear in his famous La pere-
grinaci6n de Bayo6n in which the concept is symbolized
by Guarionex (Dominican Republic), Marien (Cuba)
and Bayo6n (Puerto Rico). When Hostos talked about
his Confederaci6n antillana, federalism was much in
vogue and actually was put into practice by the second
Spanish Republic (1873-1874), especially by Francisco
Pi y Margall. However, the somewhat radical application
of federalism in Spain was among the reasons why this
first Spanish Republic did not last, since the concept
very soon developed into some unbelievable separatist
orgies.
The period of the Spanish Republic had given
Hostos renewed hopes for his ideals. Also due to the
idealistic Republic were benefits for the overseas prov-
inces such as the total end of slavery in 1873 (the partial
end of slavery had been achieved in 1870) and the reform
of municipal law. The government of King Amadeo I
on November 7, 1872, extended Title I of the Constitu-
tion of 1869 to the overseas provinces. All inhabitants
in the Spanish Antilles were then to be considered
Spaniards. The war in Cuba (1868-1878) and the end of
the Spanish Republic, however, nullified any idea which
might have been entertained for a closer union of the
Spanish-speaking Caribbean.
Francisco Elias de Tejada (Las doctrinas political
de Eugenio Maria de Hostos, Madrid, 1949) showed us
that Hostos' federalism had different roots. Instead of
the more radical federalism of Proudhon, mechanistic
and individualistic, where society was organized like a
pyramid from the bottom to the top on the basis of free
human associations, Hostos based himself on the his-
torical concept of federalism. Despite his liberal surface
and the apparent echo of Proudhon, Hostos' federalism
had a traditional foundation and was based on historic
realities. This traditional historic federalism acknowl-
edged old institutions -- the cabildos and audiencias,
the visits and juicios de residencia -- and old adminis-
trative regions -- parishes and districts, provinces or
kingdoms, and would move from this foundation to the
higher plane of the Confederaci6n antillana of different
islands, which although quite distinct from each other
were however all Hispanic and had always had a close
relationship, and thus could form an even closer union
within the framework of a political confederation. From
this point of view, Hostos' federalism came closer to
the Spanish carlista Juan Vazquez de Mella than to the
Frenchman Proudhon. The dream of the Confederaci6n
antillana, which rose to such heights in the second half
of the nineteenth century, received another painful dis-

The idea may still fascinate some
people, though it is obvious that
the political reality of Caribbean
integration is even less favorable
today than a hundred years ago.

appointment when Puerto Rico was occupied by the
United States and Cuba was settled with the Platt amend-
ment.
Betances and Hostos were not isolated; other
thinkers were also enthusiastic followers of similar
concepts. We need only mention Jose Marti and the
Dominican Gregorio Luper6n. Finally, the idea of the
Confederaci6n antillana was later revived in 1915 when
Jose de Diego, the caballero de la raza, founded the
Uni6n antillana in that same year. The Uni6n antillana
endeavored to strive for the same ideals but again harsh
realities -- in this case the landing of United States
marines on the shores of the Dominican Republic --
made the idea even more unrealistic than during the
lifetime of Hostos and Betances, Luper6n and Marti.
The idea may still fascinate some people, though
it is obvious that the political reality is even less favor-
able today than a hundred years ago. Yet it is a part of
the history of the West Indies and one of the forerunners
of today's Caribbean Community. No doubt, the idea
of the Confederaci6n antillana represented a nucleus
which could serve for the later development of an all-
encompassing Caribbean Community.

Pan Africanism
A very different concept developed in the English-
speaking West Indies. The Commonwealth Caribbean
became the birthplace of Pan-Africanism, which has
been described as "a complicated Atlantic triangle of
influences between America, Africa and Europe." Like
Zionism, Pan-Africanism was born in the diaspora, and
the Caribbean played an extraordinarily important role
which in turn also implied a greater unity among the
black peoples of the West Indies. Pan Africanism rep-
resented not only an emotional appeal toward the
African roots and the attainment of human dignity via
a political program for African independence and union,
but also for similar ideals and goals in the West Indies.
The term Pan-Africanism was coined by an African
-- John Chilembwe, who took it from Joseph Booth, an
English farmer who had emigrated to New Zealand and
in 1892 came to Nyassaland as a Baptist missionary,
where he befriended Chilembwe. Between 1895 and
1896 Booth wrote a book entitled Africa for the Africans
in which he defended the Africans against European
colonialism. In 1897 Booth formed the African Christian
Union in Blantyre; its aim was a United Christian Na-
tion in Africa. During World War I Chilembwe led a
revolt in Nyassaland, after having been a student in the
United States (1897-1900) and having been influenced
by American democracy.
The Pan-African movement began in earnest with
William Edward Burghardt Du Bois, of Great Barrington,
Massachusetts. Du Bois was introduced to Pan-African-
ism in London in 1900 at the first Pan-African Congress
CARBBEAN REVIEW /29

sponsored by the Trinidadian lawyer H. Sylvester Wil-
liams. It was Williams who became the first to voice
the concepts of Pan-Africanism.

The Commonwealth Caribbean
became the birthplace of
Pan-Africanism...

The early stages of Pan-Africanism were marked
by Du Bois and Marcus Aurelius Garvey. While the
American was vain, prickly, egocentric, "tiresomely
proud of his own Dutch and French ancestors and es-
pecially of the suggestion of Huguenot nobility," Garvey
was a black Jamaican, a rabblerouser, who refused to
cooperate with light-skinned Negroes whom he de-
nounced as hybrids. Du Bois cooperated with American
liberals in founding the NAACP and always called for
an open and vigorous struggle for equality of rights.
On the other hand, Garvey, who never set foot in Africa
and who founded the UNIA (Universal Negro Improve-
ment Association) favored a return to Africa, a concept
whichDu Bois found unacceptable.
The Pan-African movement was from the begin-
ning largely a Caribbean affair and this despite the
imposing figure of Du Bois who dominated the Pan-
African congresses, particularly in the twenties and
thirties. After all,it was Garvey who could claim the sup-
port of millions of Negroes. Even after Garvey's death
in 1940, the leadership of the Pan-African movement
was in the hands of West Indians, including such leaders
as George Padmore, C. L. R. James, Peter Milliard, and
Otto Mackonnen, who were joined at that time by such
Africans as Azikiwe, Chief Akintole and Jomo Kenyatta.
The last Pan-African conference in Manchester,
1945, largely attended by West Indian and African
leaders, demanded black African autonomy, if not in-
dependence, which was to come in less than fifteen
years in the wake of a changing world. Dr. Nkrumah
then organized the West African National Secretariat
which promoted the concept of a West African Federa-
tion as a first step toward the later achievement of the
highly romantic United States of Africa. However, all
these endeavors also benefited the Caribbean in the
fifties, since the area also began to move toward both
autonomy and federation.
In the thirties a shift took place towards Europe
and with it a division: London became the political cen-
ter of Pan-Africanism, a very clear echo of the West
Indian influence, and Paris the literary headquarters,
again also in view of Caribbean impacts. The shift also
showed the growing division between French-speaking
and English-speaking blacks in both Africa and the
West Indies. The division of political and literary Pan-
Africanism with its two European centers further help-
ed to widen the abyss between the English-speaking and
the French-speaking black world. The ideas of the Paris-
based groups developed into what later became to be
known as Negritude: the sum total of black cultural
values, which however were to affect the French-speak-
ing world much more than the English-speaking areas.
N6gritude was promoted with two famous cultural jour-
nals: L6gitime Defense and Presence Africaine. Here
again the Caribbean played a significant role -- in this
case it was Martinique and Haiti. The Martiniquan poet
30/ CAtRBBCAN REVIEW

Etienne L&ro in association with Jules Monnerot and
Ren6 Menil collaborated in Legitime Defense. L&ro
analyzed society in the West Indies from a Marxist point
of view and came to the conclusion that only surrealism
could deliver the blacks from their taboos.
The heir to L6ro was another Martiniquan, Aime
C&saire, who joined the group in Paris in 1931 at the age
of eighteen. Although at first he hailed assimilation into
French civilization, later he changed. In his poetry he
developed the thesis that the symbol of rejection had
become a symbol of pride. C6saire who was both a poet
and a political activist, represented Martinique in the
French National Assembly and also became the mayor
of Fort-de-France; in 1957 his party won 34 of the 37
seats of the Island's legislature. A Marxist and a mem-
ber of the Communist Party until 1956, he will be re-
membered for the term Negritude which later found its
greatest echo in Africa: Leopold Sedar Senghor of
Senegal and Felix Houphouet-Boigny of the Ivory Coast.
Negritude was never really accepted in the English-
speaking world, and no doubt expressed in a similar way
the strange situation of Martinique and Guadaloupe in
the Caribbean -- geographically, historically, ethnically,
a part of the West Indies, but politically part of metro-
politan France -- with a certain embedded ambivalence:
"acceptance and rejection of Western culture," and
particularly of those who do not live, and never have
lived, in Africa.
In 1956, Presence Africaine organized at the Sor-
bonne the First Congress of Negro Writers and Artists,
and a second congress followed in Rome in 1959. Im-
portant West Indian personalities were the Haitian Dr.
Price-Mars and Aime C-saire. Both called for a new
synthesis between Europe and Africa and thus echoed
the particular situation of the West Indies. It also show-
ed the growing gulf that divided the black world in its
English- and French-speaking parts. Actually both
groups were led by West Indians: "...the French West
Indian Aime Cesaire (undoubtedly the dominating
figure of both Congresses) and the British West Indian
George Lamming; the former subtle, involved and
analytical; the latter robust, straightforward and con-
fident."
Both the Pan-African movement and Negritude,
although related to the struggle of the African in his
own continent, were obviously linked to the Caribbean.
They represented in the West Indies a significant polit-
ical pressure for autonomy and federation, although the
French were more successful in the endeavors for keep-
ing their Caribbean possessions firmly anchored to the
metropolis.

European Influence
The actual movement for a Caribbean community
came, however, from a different source: from the Euro-
pean governments. The new French constitution of
1946 which established the Fourth French Republic
readjusted its imperial connections in line with the
changes that had weakened Europe and eroded its
power. The new constitution divided France into two
parts: Metropolitan France and the Associated Territo-
ries and States. The French West Indies and Guyane
were incorporated in the former and received now a
greater degree of autonomy as overseas departments:
Martinique was represented in the French Parliament

by two senators and three deputies, Guadeloupe had
the same type of representation, and Guyane had one
senator and one deputy. The Fifth Republic did not
change these arrangements.
In the Commonwealth Caribbean the first begin-
nings also took place at the end of World War II as a step
toward future independence. At the same time all Brit-
ish possessions in the West Indies accepted the princi-
ple of federation, with the exception of British Honduras
and British Guiana. A committee was set up which
worked on a constitutional draft and which reported in
1950 that federation was the best way to achieve polit-
ical independence of the area. A regional economic com-
mission was set up to study the economic implications
of the future independent Commonwealth Caribbean.
In 1953, a West Indian Conference took place in
London which submitted a draft constitution of the
West Indian Federation. This constitutional draft served
as a basis for negotiations and two years later was ap-
proved by all members of the Commonwealth Carib-
bean although with some reservations from Barbados
and Trinidad and Tobago in regard to migration. That
same year a uniform currency was set up for the West
Indian Federation. Finally, the last West Indian Confer-
ence took place in 1956; it accepted the definitive
version of the Constitution which then came into force
in 1958. This West Indian Federation was based on a
parliament with two houses: a senate with regional re-
presentation and a house of representatives whose del-
egates were elected by general and secret ballot.

London became the political
center of Pan-Africanism, Paris
the literary headquarters. This
division widened the abyss
between the English-speaking and
French-speaking black world.

At the same time that these constitutional develop-
ments took place in the British West Indies, the Dutch
government also moved toward similar goals. An inter-
nal reform changed the constitutional pattern of the
Dutch-held area in the Caribbean: Surinam and the
Netherlands Antilles, the latter comprising the Dutch
Leeward Islands (Curacao, Aruba, Bonaire) and the
Dutch Windward Islands (Sint Maarten, Sint Eustatius,
Saba). Both Surinam and the Netherlands Antilles
changed their constitutional pattern in 1954 when they
became part of the Tripartite Kingdom of the Nether-
lands. This meant that both Surinam and the Nether-
lands Antilles were by December 1954 fully autono-
mous in internal affairs and operated almost on the
same level as the Netherlands proper. Until the riots of
1969 in Willemstad it was believed that the political
solution of 1954 could be retained. After 1969 the Tri-
partite Kingdom changed its policy and visualized
eventual independence for both the Netherlands Antilles
and Surinam within a period of transition which began
in the 1970's. In the meantime Surinam attained inde-
pendence in 1976 despite objections from some East
Indian and black groups.

The classical definition "common
market" has no validity in terms of
CARICOM.

The high hopes the establishment in 1958 of the
West Indian Federation raised did not last. It broke up
in 1961. Its diverse members, the different power rela-
tionship between the larger units -- Jamaica and Trini-
dad and Tobago -- and the smaller islands which com-
prised the majority of the Federation, caused the strains.
Still, the West Indian Federation of the late fifties was
the first actual experiment in regional cooperation in
the area. The idea remains much alive. Other areas have
united with variable degrees of success, like the French
West African Federation (1895/1904), the French Equa-
torial Federation (1910), the East African Common
Services Organization (1961), and the Arab League
(1945). The European Common Market was launched
with the signature of the Treaty of Rome in 1957. The
Latin American Free Trade Association followed suit
in 1960. Thus, the concept of a Caribbean federation
could not die but would eventually be revived.
In 1968, CARIFTA (Caribbean Free Trade Associa-
tion) was launched joining the English-speaking coun-
tries which in the meantime had achieved independence
(Barbados, Grenada, Trinidad and Tobago, Jamaica,
Guyana) with those of the East Caribbean Common
Market (ECCM): Antigua, Dominica, Montserrat, St.
Kitts-Nevis-Anguilla, St. Lucia and St. Vincent. CARIFTA
represented the West Indian version of EFTA (European
Free Trade Association) and LAFTA, the Latin Amer-
ican Free Trade Association. The purpose of CARIFTA
was to expand and diversify trade. The CARIFTA agree-
ment of 1968 provided for the abolition of tariffs on
general merchandise; the stronger members like Trini-
dad and Tobago, Barbados, Guyana and Jamaica were
supposed to eliminate the discriminating tariffs within
a period of five years.
At the same time that CARIFTA was set up, the
smaller units of the Commonwealth Caribbean -- the
Windward and Leeward Islands -- which have tradition-
ally been the greatest supporters of the concept of fed-
eration, organized themselves into a subregional com-
mon market to better deal with the larger countries
within CARIFTA. Essentially, it was the same approach
which the Central American Common Market accepted
in regard to Latin America and its future common mar-
ket. Thus, the ECCM was established a few months after
CARIFTA saw the light of day. The purposes of ECCM
were similar to other regional ventures: elimination of
tariffs and other trade barriers, free movement of goods
and capital, promotion of agriculture and industry, and
harmonization of policies. To the ECCM was added the
Regional Development Agency (RDA) in 1968 to deal
with development plans and to obtain financial aid
from the United States, Canada and Great Britain.
At the same time another important regional or-
ganization was set up: the Caribbean Development
Bank whose model was the Inter-American Develop-
ment Bank established in Washington in 1960. Its seat,
which had become quite an apple of discord, was final-
ly decided in favor of a more neutral ground in Barbados
CAT BBCAN I VIEW /31

and the Bank went into operation in 1969 with the fol-
lowing membership: Antigua, Bahamas, Barbados,
British Virgin Islands, British Honduras, Cayman Is-
lands, Dominica, Grenada, Guyana, Jamaica, Montser-
rat, St. Kitts-Nevis-Anguilla, St. Lucia, St. Vincent, Tri-
nidad and Tobago, Turks and Caicos, Great Britain and
Canada.
When CARIFTA was launched it had been done
on the basis of the past experiences with the defunct
West Indian Federation of the fifties, and hence many
errors were overcome. However, the new venture also
proved a disappointment. When Great Britain entered
in 1973 into the European Community (EC) the entire
situation changed; those British possessions in the
West Indies which had not then attained independence,
now obtained access into the EC in a similar way as did
Martinique and Guadeloupe, Guyane, and the Dutch
area. Thus, British entry into the EC further divided the
British West Indies. The entire Caribbean became even
more fragmented than ever before.

The difficulties for regional
integration are enormous in an
area marked by ethnic and cultural
diversities, jealousies, rivalries,
foreign influences, and nationalistic
and ideological differences.

Like LAFTA within the Latin American area, which
was to be a stepping stone toward the final goal of a
Latin American Common Market, CARIFTA was also
meant to be a step towards the establishment of a
Caribbean Common Market. Thus, the entry of Great
Britain into the EC in 1973 had a snowballing effect,
since the situation in the Caribbean now called for a
readjustment to the new changes in Europe. Negotia-
tions which then followed led in the same year to the
treaty of Chaguaramas with which CARICOM (Caribbean
Community) was set up. CARICOM not only meant the
establishment of a common market for the former Brit-
ish West Indies, but went further than both the West
Indian Federation and CARIFTA: it attempted to go
beyond the Commonwealth Caribbean. Thus, it welcom-
ed the non-English-speaking areas to join CARICOM in
one way or another and then move together toward the
attainment of a true and genuine Caribbean Community
of 30 million people.
The new regional organization was first joined by
Barbados, Jamaica, Trinidad and Tobago, and Guyana,
followed by Grenada and the seven dependent members
of ECCM and Belize. Countries like the Bahamas, Haiti
and the Dominican Republic, Surinam, and the Nether-
lands Antilles, and even Puerto Rico, showed interest
in the new venture.
While the treaty of Chaguaramas aims at setting
up a Caribbean Common Market, conditions in the
West Indies are such that a replica of Europe cannot be
contemplated. Thus, the classical definition "common
market" has no validity in terms of CARICOM, since it
does not wish to set up, at least at this stage, a true
common market with free movement of persons, goods
32/ CAfBCAN REVIEW

and capital. Several countries feel very strongly in regard
to the control of migration, and in general no mass
movement from the lesser developed islands to the
more advanced countries is to be encouraged. Thus
CARICOM is restricted to the strengthening, coordina-
tion, and regulation of economic and commercial rela-
tions, the achievement of greater economic expansion
and integration, and the promotion of the greatest pos-
sible political independence through the coordination
of political and economic cooperation and harmoniza-
tion.
The variety of political links of the different areas
in the Caribbean to the EC were now streamlined. After
all, the British entry into the EC had divided the Com-
monwealth Caribbean, since the newly independent
states were excluded from the EC. The EC then proceed-
ed to find a solution which was reached after long ne-
gotiations in Lom6, Togo in 1975. The Lom6 Conven-
tion, the successor to the previous two Yaounde Con-
ventions which had associated the former French, Bel-
gian and Italian colonies in Africa to the European
Common Market, now extended the associated area
both geographically and economically. Forty-four de-
veloping countries in Africa, the Caribbean and the
Pacific (the ACP-group) signed a new economic pact
with the EC, and it meant that in the West Indies the six
independent countries (Bahamas, Barbados, Grenada,
Guyana, Jamaica and Trinidad and Tobago) were now
also associated with the EC along with the British non-
independent territories, the French West Indies and
Guyane and the Dutch area of the Caribbean. It also
meant that CARICOM, as a regional organization, was
now to play an important role in financial matters and
technical assistance, even if it was not a party to the
Lome Convention -- which would thus also affect the
smaller non-independent members of the Common-
wealth Caribbean. The Lom6 Convention with its incor-
poration of the independent Commonwealth Caribbean
was one of the most positive steps in recent years and
contributed somewhat to bridging the gap between the
independent and the non-independent members of the
Commonwealth Caribbean.
CARICOM was also received with tremendous ex-
pectations, despite the earlier failures in the fifties and
sixties. Although it is too early to make a fair assess-
ment of this new Caribbean venture in regional integra-
tion, the hopes have so far not been realized. Obviously,
the difficulties are enormous, particularly in an area
which is marked by such ethnic and cultural diversity,
by so many jealousies and rivalries, foreign influences,
nationalistic and ideological differences, and where a
colonial mentality still remains an important factor. To
these difficulties must also be added the more recent
problem of Cuban influence, especially in Jamaica and
Guyana, which has further weakened CARICOM. On the
other hand, the Caribbean has no other alternative,
and sooner or later, this organization, or another one,
will have to take a similar road as that taken by the
West Indian Federation, CARIFTA and CARICOM.

O. Carlos Stoetzer teaches History at Fordham University. His
work, The Scholastic Roots of the Spanish American Revolution,
is soon to be published by Fordham University Press.
Artwork on page 28: Gioconda Reiteracion de Una Imagen Rompe-
cabeza Gioconda, by Graciela Zar, 19 72.

The Harder They Come.
Directed by Perry Henzell.
Featuring: Jimmy Cliff, Janet
Bartley, Carl Bradshaw, Ras Daniel
Hartman, Bobby Charlton.
Producer: New World. 103 minutes,
color.

When Ivan, a six-gun in each hand,
gold star blazing on his T-shirt,
steps out from the brush on the
shimmering Jamaican cay to meet
a phalanx of machine-gun-bearing
infantrymen, his attempt to live
out the American dream on that
colonized island in the Caribbean
has reached a dead-end. He is a
rebel whose options are revealed
to have been controlled by the very
forces against which that rebellion
is directed.
A country boy determined to
"make it" in the city, he seeks star-
dom by way of pop culture. Reggae
music and the ganja (dope) trade,
the only apparent paths to wealth
and power, have long since come
under the monopolistic control of
the police and the monied entre-
preneurs. It is only through vio-
lence that Ivan succeeds in achiev-
ing fame. But his violent response
and highly individualistic version
of "making it" isolate and make
him a target in such a way that no
matter how hard he really wants,
he can "get it" and enjoy it only
for a brief moment before they get
him.
The opening scenes of Perry
Henzell's The Harder They Come
depict the last moments in the
process of Ivan's separation from
traditional life. The initial footage
moves from a shot of virginal Ja-
maican coastline, rainswept and
untouched, to the teeming, menac-
ing streets of West Kingston, where
Ivan is initiated into the ethics of
brother ripping off brother. He is
divested of everything including a
treasured mango, which he carried
as a kind of offering to his mother.
The thread linking the back-
water with the capital is an emblem
of Third World experience -- an
ancient rickety box of a bus, interior
crammed with anxious passengers,
roof decked with their luggage,
careening down mountain roads.
The near collision with the oncom-
ing truck takes on a symbolic di-
mension, prophesying Ivan's im-
minent clash with his new environ-
ment; though the tremendous

Artwork adapted from the album cover of "The Harder They Come", Mango Records.
Distributed by Island Records, 19 72.
CAPIBBEAN rEVIEW /33

comic vitality of the sequence and
its precise re-creation of a charac-
teristic Third World experience,
make any symbolic significance
supplementary at best.

Shell, The Good
Mileage Gasolene
A billboard touting "Shell, The
Good Mileage Gasolene," followed
by another which exhorts, "Talk
with Phillip Waite for a Better Life"
herald Ivan's arrival in civilization.
The driver of a long white convert-
ible, flanked by two attractive
young women, provides Ivan's first
real glimpse of what the "haves"
have. His exposure to the life style
of the affluent continues as he
desperately hunts for work at con-
struction sites and in the plush
suburbs, and (after being accused
of doing nothing but begging) un-
successfully bums small change at
posh hotels.

Through violence Ivan
succeeds in achieving
fame, but can enjoy it
only for a few minutes
before they get him.

This fruitless quest brings Ivan
face to face with the imbalance and
injustice of the society he so un-
suspectingly came to join. He con-
fronts its underbelly as, exhausted
and penniless, he surveys the last
alternative -- ragged human scav-
engers pawing through the detritus
of a society that has relegated them
to a dump which seems to have
no end. Desperation drives him to
appeal to the preacher his mother
had referred him to. While he is in
the preacher's employ, he begins
to court Elsa, the preacher's ward.
Banished from the preacher's prem-
ises for violating the sanctity of
the church with his music, he takes
both Elsa and the bicycle he had
painstakingly reconstructed with
him. Elsa comes voluntarily, but
Ivan is forced to fight for the bicy-
cle, and is subsequently jailed and
publicly flogged.
Success follows close on the
heels of humiliation, or so it ap-
pears, when the head of the record-
ing company likes his record. But
rather than accept a meager twenty
dollars for his song, Ivan goes all
34/ CARBBEAN FCVIeW

over town in a futile attempt to
break Hylton's record monopoly.
All legitimate paths to success only
offer him, at best, token participa-
tion in the world he longs to be a
part of. The ganja trade, though
subject to the same patterns of ex-
ploitation, is at least slightly more
lucrative. But here, too, Ivan asks
too many questions, and becomes
an outlaw even among "criminals."
His daring escapes, flashy style,
and defiant resistance make him a
folk hero in the ghetto and scourge
of the police. But the heat becomes
too intense as the forces which
have separately conspired to keep
him down now converge to capture
him. With only the vaguest notion
of what might await him, Ivan
agrees to flee to Cuba, but literally
misses the boat and, wounded and
exhausted, summons all his verve
for one last stand.
Despite his rejection of existing
structures and his attempt, how-
ever faltering, to unravel the net-
work of exploitation, Ivan never
overcomes the isolation to which
his own narrow self-interest con-
fines him. His idea of the alternative
to misery, squalor and exploitation
is a purely individualistic one,
shaped as it is by the same forces
responsible for the conditions of
his oppression. Reacting to the in-
justices of a capitalist-dominated,
neo-colonial society, he can only
emulate the Wild West gunmen and
underworld hoods -- always cut off
from their fellow human beings --
which that society exalts and im-
ports as its (ill-fated) heroes.

Modes Of Consumption

But for the skill and subtlety with
which it is done, the film might be
seen as a glossary on modes of
consumption-oriented popular cul-
ture. Ivan's first act is to go to the
Rialto to see a "spaghetti" western
in which Franco Nero, surrounded
by a horde of red-hooded assailants,
uses his technological advantage
(a machine gun) to mow down his
attackers on the spot.
Ivan begins to dress in slick city
style -- flashy hats, shades, shiny
shirts and black vinyl vests -- like
the local "rude boys." The sounds
of reggae are ever-present on the
ubiquitous transistor radio. Ivan's
only private space, the carcass of
an old car in the preacher's yard,

contains other evidence of the new-
found cultural forms which are
reshaping his consciousness: a "Top
Guns of the West" comic book, an
issue of Playboy magazine, a gar-
ishly surreal toy pistol, and a num-
ber of nude pin-ups, all white. In
the course of the action, the toy
gun is replaced by real ones, the
reconstructed bicycle by a Honda
bought with earnings from the
ganja trade, the wrecked car with
an enormous white convertible.
The one radio ad captured in its
entirety on the soundtrack ("You
can tell it's Chanel Olive Oil Pom-
made. Makes your hair soft, smooth,
and easy to manage") is the proto-
type of commercialization based
on encouraging a race's rejection
of its own physical characteristics.
A wide range of media serve as
agents of Ivan's notoriety, but he
realizes their inherent distortions.
"They say that you killed a police-
man," Elsa tells him. "I killed
three," is Ivan's reply.
Aware of the formative impor-
tance of media in the society, Ivan
tries to channel them to his own
uses. Flamboyantly dressed, he has
a photographer capture his fero-
cious gun-toting poses and sends
his favorite to the editor of the
newspaper. He scrawls a note --
which he sends to the same source
-- revealing the existence of the rec-
ord which Hylton, loathe to pro-
mote the career of an unmistakable
"trouble-maker," had long since
filed away, but now greedily un-
earths. It is never clear whether
the crude scrawls on the walls of
the shanty town ("I was here but I
disappear") originate with Ivan or
are merely a spontaneous expres-
sion of popular identification with
him.

Powerful Music
Music is a constant presence and
a powerful, multi-faceted one here;
rarely has a lyric score been so
well integrated into a film. It func-
tions on a number of levels, cataly-
zing the emotions of the audience
with its sensual beat, conspiring
with the visual image to draw the
viewer deeper into the emotional
experience of the film, offering
ironic counterpoint to the meaning
of what is registered by the camera
eye. The songs of the score work
to foreshadow ("Johnny Too Bad"),

to integrate disparate sequences
("Many Rivers to Cross"), as a
counterpoint to the action ("Sitting
in Limbo," "Pressure Drop"), and
as an ironic expose of false con-
sciousness (the words to the song
which Hylton rejects in the im-
promptu driveway audition are:
"We are all one big brother, all be-
long to one father... We were fash-
ioned perfectly, made to live in
unity. Let peace be our motto...").

"They say that you killed
a policeman," Elsa tells
him. "I killed three," is
Ivan's reply.

The gospel music, indeed the
entire church sequence, is a poi-
gnant illustration of enforced cul-
tural sublimation through conform-
ity to expressive modes acceptable
to the oppressor. The lyrics of "Rivers
of Babylon" ("By the rivers of Baby-
lon / Where we sat down / And
there we wept / When we remem-
bered Zion / But the wicked carried
us away captivity / Require from
us a song / How can we sing King
Alfa song / In a strange land?..."),
though not a part of the church
sequence, articulate this phenom-
enon beautifully through the image
of the slave experience it conveyed
through borrowings from an alien
cultural context (the Old Testa-
ment, specifically the 137th Psalm).
Only in this way will "... the words
of our mouths / And the meditations
of our hearts / Be acceptable in thy
sight / over I." It is not the divine
but the earthly master who requires
such strict control of speech and
thought. On another level, this
song serves as a metaphor for the
events of the film, describing Ivan's
experience in capsule form. For
he does in fact aspire to produce
the song required by the master,
since it is the only means by which
he can hope to achieve a spurious
dignity within the existing struc-
tures. But since his song is indeed
"a song of freedom," "the wicked"
reject and banish him.
The meaning of the two theme
songs, "You Can Get It If You Really
Want" and "The Harder They Fall,"
evolves and changes as the action
progresses. The film opens with
the former song as Ivan, full of in-
nocence and optimism, approaches

the city. The song recurs when he
triumphantly coasts over a golf
course in a car he commandeered
at gunpoint. The jubilance of this
scene, the beauty of its fusion of
song and image, should not ob-
scure the superb irony here: Ivan
has to become a criminal and an
outlaw to get what he considers to
be his rightful share, to realize his
"dream," and this fact precludes
more than a momentary savoring
of his triumph.
The latter song is more complex.
Allusions to "persecution" and "op-
position" give way to the concept
of "the oppressors." There is an
attempt to identify the means and
methods at their disposal: religious
palliatives ("Well they tell me of
the pie up in the sky / Waiting for
me when I die"), indifference ("They
never seem to hear even your cry"),
and the threat of social isolation
"... trying to drive me underground").
The first song acknowledges the
necessity of confrontation and
struggle, but the title song goes
further in articulating the price:
"And I'll keep on fighting for the
things I want / Though I know that
when you're dead you can't / But I'd
rather be a free man in my grave /
Than living as a puppet or a slave."
In the larger context, both music
and film are depicted in such a way

that they offer an explosive self-
indictment. Movies are not a harm-
less form of diversion and escape,
but a powerful agent of socializa-
tion and mystification. The music
industry, though viewed by oppress-
ed Jamaicans as the only dream
of wealth, power and social inte-
gration for anyone who wants it bad
enough and strives hard enough,
is here exposed as a manipulative
myth.
Some may see Ivan's death as
an apotheosis, or as a mythic rec-
onciliation of an irreconcilable
conflict, but it is instead the final
expos of the futility and vulnera-
bility of the "make it on your own"
"get your share and never mind
the others" philosophy. Ivan's rags
to riches dream is exposed at the
end of the film to be the corrupting,
deceptive lie that it is. To what end
his martyrdom? Nothing has changed
in shanty town. The ganja trade
will resume under the vigilant
control of the police as before,
Jos6 will return to keep the traders
in line, and though they may re-
ceive a slightly larger cut -- and
thus reap some benefit from Ivan's
example -- Ivan will, as he himself
predicts, be completely forgotten.

"And I'll keep on fighting
for the things I want.
Though I know that when
you're dead you can't.
Buy I'd rather be a free
man in my grave.
Than living as a puppet
or a slave."

The only seeds of hope in the
movie lie in the possibility that the
ganja traders will act on the impli-
cations of mutual solidarity sug-
gested by Ivan's failure to overthrow
those who exploit others' risk for
personal profit. This mental trajec-
tory takes us out of shanty town,
out of Jamaica, and into the larger
world of the powers who control
what was in the film only a micro-
cosm of neo-colonial exploitation.
The fact that the film both exposes
the dead-end nature of Ivan's each-
man-for-himself trip and implicitly
raises the question of how to avoid
such dead-ends, is what makes this
such an extraordinary movie.
CArmB.AN REVIEW /35

Artistic Success
The film succeeds on an artistic as
well as an ideological level. Viewers
should not be deceived by a certain
grittiness of film style, a rough-
edged articulation in places. Though
made on a low budget with an inex-
perienced cast, and filmed primarily
outdoors with natural light, this is
not a "home movie."
In its pacing the film demon-
strates its greatest debt to Holly-
wood style and its greatest diver-
gence, from other Third World films.
The plot line is pared down to its
essentials and the action comes on
swift and hard-hitting through the
sophisticated use of several tech-
niques: multiple short episodic se-
quences (job hunting in the suburbs
and on a construction site, the
threatening vigilance of the vegeta-
ble vendor in the market, the pano-
rama of the dump; or the numerous
short sequences which depict all the
police methods used in the search
for Ivan), intercutting (Jos6's blow-
ing the whistle on Ivan, and the sub-
sequent motorcycle chase; the bi-
cycle ride along the ocean as the
preacher ransacks Ivan's car; the
church celebration, the preacher's
suspicious glances at Elsa and Ivan,
Elsa's sexual fantasies, and the or-
gasmic gyrations of particular mem-
bers of the congregation), voice-
overs (Jos6's thoughts as he pursues
Ivan through the alleyways of shanty
town; the news story of Ivan's ex-
ploits over scenes of the shanty
town's excited response), as well as
the skillful use of music already
discussed.

Ivan's rags to riches dream
is exposed at the end of
the film to be a corrupting,
deceptive lie.

In the close-up of mouth and
tongue and hard-to-identify skin
surfaces (Ivan making love to one
of Jose's women) we see an incor-
poration of techniques confined
not too long ago to underground
cinema. Throughout the film the
camera skillfully shifts points of
view, using subjectivity sparingly
but well (the departure of the street
vendor-thief glimpsed across the
congested street; the fatally-wound-
ed motorcycle cop's loss of control).
36/ CATRBEAN rVIEc

The expressiveness with which zoom
shots are used in several sequences
is striking, the parallel tracking
shot of Ivan and Elsa bicycling along
a causeway between two bands of
water. When the camera zooms out
we realize that what at first appeared
to be an idyllic setting is really an-
other dump filled with discards and
debris -- a visual metaphor for the
fact that their relationship cannot
but be contaminated and corrupted
by the surrounding environment,
that they will be defeated by the
larger context.

After Ivan's death, in the
final sequence, a faceless
woman's rhythmic
undulations symbolize
"modern," "civilized"
Jamaica, the beat goes on.

The unreality of the hotel se-
quence, independent of the magnif-
icent still montage of Ivan's shoot-
em-up poses, results from a partic-
ular style of shooting not seen else-
where in the film. Camera angle,
composition, and lighting recall
Madison Avenue publicity tech-
niques -- cigarette ads of couples at
poolside upstaged by the rugged-
individualist male smoker in the
foreground, liquor ads of a man and
a woman, glass in hand, silhouetted
against a tropical sunset. The con-
trived publicity techniques (director
Perry Henzell worked in advertis-
ing in Britain for ten years) used to
draw Ivan and others like him into
the world he so desperately aspired
to join are used by the film-makers
to expose the artificiality of that
world.
There is throughout the film a
conscious attempt to avoid easy
exoticism and folklorizing, a com-
mon pitfall of Third World films.
The exotic elements which do ap-
pear in the film -- the hairstyles of
Pedro and Rupert, the remarkable
hooka -- are a function of realities
essential to the film's development.
The final sequence of the film -- a
gyrating female pelvis, clad in
shimmering multi-colored lame,
over which the credits are viewed --
appears to be the most facile and
commercializing of the entire film.
One is tempted to call it cheap.
Still, in juxtaposition to the opening

scene of timeless primeval coastline,
this faceless woman's rhythmic un-
dulations symbolize "modern," "civ-
ilized" Jamaica. The beat goes on
after the hero's death with an indif-
ference which underscores the fu-
tility of his martyrdom.
This restricted view of female
anatomy which closes out a film so
dominated by the macho mystique
calls the sexual assumptions of the
film into question. The female fig-
ures, most often portrayed in as-
sociation with the collaborative and
regressive agency of the Church,
are almost incidental to the plot --
except for the inescapable fact that
it is Elsa who betrays Ivan at the
end. Is this another cliched instance
of the treacherous woman who turns
on the hero? Or is Elsa given at
least a modicum of justification for
her final decision? It is never clear
whether the one scene of sexual ful-
fillment between Elsa and Ivan --
two bodies half-immersed in the
shimmering sea -- occurs indepen-
dent of Elsa's fantasies; what is cer-
tain is that there is no other scene
which portrays a mutually fulfilling
interaction between them.
The nude sequence after Ivan's
beating -- silent except for his ago-
nized moans -- suggests an act of
succor rather than one of lovemak-
ing. In fact there is only tension,
misunderstanding and bitterness
between the two of them for the
duration of the film. She is too tired
and too disapproving to share in
Ivan's celebration the night his rec-
ord is released. Ivan and Pedro
conceal their participation in the
ganja trade from her, then make
jokes based on her ignorance of
the real purpose of their "fishing"
expeditions. It is only in Pedro's
motherless son Rupert that Elsa
finds a willing and needy recipient
of her affection. In that farewell day
at the beach she is never even seen
in the same frame with Ivan, and he
is left standing alone on the cay as
Elsa and Pedro and Rupert, like a
family trio, wave goodbye from
their departing skiff.

Every Game I Play I Lose
Though often used, taken advantage
of, ignored, Elsa maintains her
strength and determination through-
out. Realizing that Rupert's illness
will recur indefinitely unless he re-
ceives adequate nutrition and that
without resumption of the ganja

trade this is impossible, knowing
full well that Ivan's capture is the
price of Rupert's recovery, she
decides to appeal to her former
guardian. Her bitter observation as
she decides to take this step--"Every
game I play I lose" -- reveals the
extent to which she is aware of the
contradictions of her own existence.

For Jimmy Cliff, the actor
who portrayed Ivan, the
message will seem
irrelevant; the film
served him as a vehicle to
succeed outside Jamaica.

A more secondary female figure,
but one of tremendous emotional
force, is Ivan's aged mother. That
she symbolizes the accumulated
suffering of the race is conveyed
not only through her performance
but through the lyrics of "Rivers of
Babylon" which play softly in the
background during the entire se-
quence. As she is a paradigm of suf-
fering, so she is also a paradigm of
wisdom. She urges Ivan to return
to the country, but when she realizes
the extent of his determination, she
calmly predicts, to Ivan's great dis-
tress, his inevitable outcome, say-
ing that without a job he is certain
to become a "criminal."
Such powerful ironies give great
strength to the story, again indicat-
ing the film's mastery and control.
As Ivan is tried, sentenced, stripped,
bound, and beaten, a solemn judi-
cial voice intones: "You have had
every chance to make good. You
have been taken into the Church
and given a chance to lead a good
Christian life. Instead of that you
have filled your head with foolish-
ness and violence." Detective Ray
Jones, interrogating the most sad-
eyed and downtrodden of the ganja
traders, asks in incredulous rage,
referring of course to Ivan, "Since
when does another dirty criminal
like yourself mean more to you than
me?" But if Jones succeeds in
making the ganja traders squirm,
he in turn wriggles under the keen
observations of Hylton, the most
clear-minded and cognizant of the
oppressors. "Of course I'm interest-
ed in the ganja trade," Hylton tells
Jones unabashed. "This is the only
thing that brings money into this

area... Once these jokers get hungry
enough to start trading without you,
then you are finished. Then law and
order is finished in this whole area.
You understand that, don't you?"
One finally wants to make refer-
ence to two instantaneous cuts
buried somewhere after the middle
of the film. Both are stills of the
printed word, which flash on the
screen during one of the many se-
quences in which the police attempt
unsuccessfully to track Ivan through
the shanty town maze. The first, in
bold and well-shaped letters, coun-
cils, "Skip town. Fly Pan Am to New
York." The second, a hasty scrawl,
proclaims, "I AM EVERYWHERE."
Each statement demands to be un-
derstood in ironic counterpoint to
the other. The first underlines the
insularity of Ivan's plight, the fact
that he is indeed trapped on that is-
land without means of escape. But
his proclamation is a reply to the
mocking mobility of the affluent,
for his rebellion -- misguided though
it is -- his search for freedom from
oppressions and his rightful share
of the human estate, is more ubi-
quitous than the mighty Pan Amer-
ican machine. Ivan is -- and Ivans
are -- everywhere that economic and
cultural oppression breed them.
Their rebellions will not always be
a dead-end.

Jamaica's government
perceived the film as a
threat and banned it.

NOTE: The history of the film-
ing, the intentions and background
of the film-makers, the sources of
financial backing, the social con-
texts within which the film has been
viewed and the audience response
to it are all questions directly related
to any interpretation of the film.
Such information is, however, ex-
tremely difficult to find and may
tend to substantiate a much more
pessimistic and negative view of
the film's content than I have pre-
sented. Perry Henzell is a son of
Jamaica's white ruling class though
he perceives himself as closely tied
to the marginal milieu portrayed in
the film. The story line fuses ele-
ments of Jimmy Cliffs own life with
the history of Rygin, a Rastafarian
outlaw and folk hero ruthlessly pur-
sued by the Jamaican police some

years ago. The story was shaped to
accommodate what Henzell consid-
ered to be some of the foremost
reggae tunes, and not vice versa.
Numerous members of the cast
played themselves on their own
turf; others came from another part
of town, but none are professional
actors. Hylton, for example, is an
insurance salesman in real life.
Pedro is played by Ras Daniel Hart-
man, a well-known artist and sculp-
tor. The suburban housewife is play-
ed by Henzell's former secretary,
who is also the wife of Michael Man-
ley, current Prime Minister of Ja-
maica.
A Rolling Stone account claims
that when the film premiered in an
elegant section of East Kingston
the theater was virtually stormed
by "rude boys" from the shanty
towns who crammed in three to a
seat and were dancing in the aisles
long before Ivan finally gets gunned
down in the final scene. Such a re-
sponse suggests that the immediate
impact of the film medium might
be stronger than its message, that
the experience of seeing their lives
portrayed on a screen might initial-
ly be perceived as an unqualified
justification rather than a call to
critical appraisal. Less important,
but still troublesome, is the fact
that, for Jimmy Cliff at least, Ivan's
example might seem irrelevant, for
the film has certainly served him as
a vehicle for making it big outside
of Jamaica. Despite his friendship
with the director, Manley's govern-
ment perceived the film as a threat
to the established order of things
in Jamaica and saw fit to ban it. This
single fact may bear more import
than reams of contradictory con-
jectures about the political dimen-
sion of the film.
Julianne Burton teaches Latin American
Literature and Film at the University of
California in Santa Cruz.

CArBBHCAN rCVICW 137

The Autumn of the Patriarch.
Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Translated
from the Spanish by Gregory
Rabassa. Harper and Row, 1976.
El Otofio del Patriarca.
Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Editorial
Sudamericana (Buenos Aires), 1975.

"Literature," the solitary book-worm
Aureliano Buendia in Garcia Mar-
quez' novel One Hundred Years of
Solitude finally realized, "is the
best toy ever invented to make fun
of people." Literary critics, however,
are very serious and they are gen-
erally reluctant to regard literature
as a toy. A result of their profession-
al earnestness is the proliferation
of allegorical and symbolic inter-
pretations of Garcia Marquez' novels
that pretend to have found the real
meaning of the narrative on a deep
philosophical or political level. Gar-
cia Marquez surely must find some
of these interpretations quite amus-
ing, since they all fail to take Aure-
liano's conclusion seriously. In re-
gard to them, literature, as Garcia
M6rquez understands it, served its
purpose.
The Autumn of the Patriarch is
a satirical myth of a power-hungry,
love-starved Caribbean dictator who
worships his mother, a bird peddler
who with paint brushes turns faded
birds into nightingales for a profit,
and whose son insists on having
her canonized by the Pope for her
miraculous powers and eminent
virtues. He kidnaps a novice from a
convent to make her his perpetual
bed-prisoner of love, orders his of-
ficers to dynamite a barge loaded
with cement and two thousand
children, who had been used in the
operation of the state-lottery, and
had to be kept from revealing why
the president's ticket always won,
and delivers his closest friend, a
general and defense minister, whom

he suspects of plotting against his
life, to the palace chef to be proper-
ly prepared for the relish and for the
warning of his petrified guests. "...
on a silver tray stretched out full
length on a garnish of cauliflower
and laurel leaves, steeped with
spices, oven brown, embellished
with the uniform of five golden al-
monds for solemn occasions and
the limitless sloops of valor on the
sleeve of his right arm, fourteen
pounds of medals on his chest and
a sprig of parsley in his mouth,
ready to be served at a banquet of
comrades by the official carvers to
the petrified horror of the guests as
without breathing we witness the
exquisite ceremony of carving and
serving, and when every plate held
an equal portion of minister of
defense stuffed with pine nuts
and aromatic herbs, he gave
the order to begin, eat hearty .
gentlemen."
It hardly seems believable that
a contemporary author can get
away with describing a canni-
balistic banquet offered by
a 20th century Latin
American dictator to
a group of chosen
commensals. -
His daring

revival of the Rabelaisian grotesque
in contemporary fiction is one of the
most successful attempts at making
fun of people. Yet, those hardy read-
ers who continue to read on in the
novel after this bizarre, stomach-
curdling episode must certainly be
those who don't mind being made
part of the fun. Garcia Marquez
readers are actually his accomplices
in humor.
Garcia M6rquez, although a con-
vinced Marxist, has rejected
socialist-realism as
being less
effective -

By Ramon G. Mendoza From El 01

C aribban Editora

Carnival of Abundance

38/ CArPHBEAN FCVIW

than magic-realism as a genre to
convey his social protest. The black-
and-white portrayal of the depraved
exploiters and the innocent exploit-
ed gives way to a more subtle pre-
sentation of the real situation. He
discovers the magic properties of
humor for demolishing the barriers
of the reader's incredulity precisely
by making incredulity the ground
for mutual complicity. As utterly
preposterous as the character de-
picted or the event narrated may
be, it usually succeeds in convinc-
ing the reader by humorous appeal.
The minutely precise description
of the action, the imaginative mat-
ing of commonly unrelated words,
and the images they conjure up are
so hilarious that the reader is irre-
sistibly persuaded to the story de-
spite his realization of the impos-
sibility of the event.
There is, of course, another con-
tributing factor which adds consid-
erable weight to the persuasion of
the reader. He knows, especially if
he is familiar with Latin American
history and politics, that often the
exaggeration is based on fact. Fraud-
ulent state-lotteries, for example,
in which children, usually orphans
or foundlings, are used to draw the
numbers, is not an uncommon
practice in some Latin American
countries. (This was particularly the
case in Cuba before the Revolution.
Every week several orphans from
the state-run orphanage,Casa de la
Beneficencia, would call out the
winning numbers of the state-lottery
over the radio. The lottery was a
favorite embezzlement target of
corrupt Cuban politicos.) Suppres-
sion of potential threats by political
assassination, and the concealment
of the facts by the government-
controlled press have been, and
unfortunately still are, conventional
methods used by Caribbean strong-
men and dictators for stifling op-
position. Mass executions of politi-
cal dissenters and ethnic minori-
ties, who may be considered an
economic threat to the nation, are
well-known facts of contemporary
Latin American history. All these
facts combined and exaggerated
into mythical proportions become
persuasive because they contain
and convey truth (1); not historical
truth in the strict sense, but that
truth proper to myth, which reaches
out to the heart of the matter through
the fictions of the imagination. This
is particularly true in the case of

"The Autumn of the
Patriarch is probably the
most remarkable
linguistic and literary feat
in contemporary Spanish
literature."

grotesque and hyperbolic myth,
where the salient traits of a charac-
ter or event are blown up into the
distorted but most revealing fea-
tures of caricature. (2)

Caribbean Despot
In The Autumn of the Patriarch
Garcia M6rquez has succeeded in
creating a masterly mythical cari-
cature of the typical Caribbean
despot. It is probably the definitive
death blow, as far as literature is
concerned, delivered with the dex-
terity of a magician of black humor,
to all present and would-be tyran-
nical caudillos of Latin America.
The mythical image of the Patriarch
is produced by an accumulation of
grotesque features. Legend already
surrounds his birth: "... he knew
that he was a man without a father
like the most illustrious despots of
history, that the only relative known
to him and perhaps the only one he
had was his mother of my heart
Bendicion Alvarado to whom the
school texts attributed the miracle
of having conceived him without
recourse to any male and of having
received in a dream the hermetical
keys to his messianic destiny, and
whom he proclaimed matriarch of
the land by decree with the simple
argument that there is no mother
but one, mine..." The truth, how-
ever, was that "she had conceived
him, standing up and with her hat
on because of the storm of blue-
bottle flies around the wineskins of
fermented molasses" in a fleeting
encounter with a back-trail fugitive
in the back room of a bar.
The reader never finds out the
Patriarch's name. The anonymous
dictator remains in power for over
a century, and dies of natural causes,
like a biblical patriarch, at some
indefinite age between 107 and 232
years, having sired 5,000 children,
all of them seven-monthers. To the
dismay of his fortune-tellers he was
born without lines on his palms, and
to the frustration of his concubines
the patriarchal grandsire constantly

wore, even while making love, a
canvas truss on his herniated testi-
cle, as big as an ox kidney, that
wheezed and whistled like a boiling
teakettle, providing rhythmical ac-
companiment to his rooster love-
making.
The primitivism, rustic crudeness,
and chaotic disorder of the Patri-
arch's form of government are sym-
bolized by the total mess of his pal-
ace. Cows roam about the presiden-
tial quarters, one of them even
making a public appearance on the
balcony of the nation to watch the
sunset. To drive the mosquitoes
from the reception hall, every even-
ing before going to bed he would
light the cow chips scattered all
over the rooms. In the palace gar-
dens he kept scores of lepers lying
among the rosebushes, cripples on
the stairs, and blind people every-
where, all begging from his charis-
matic hand the salt that had the
virtue of healing them.
The Patriarch signed his laws and
decrees with his thumbprint and
found out what was going on in the
nation, not by reading the news-
papers, but by deciphering the graf-
fiti, which had been drawn by the
aides and generals of his staff on
the white-painted walls of the ser-
vants' toilets. He savagely punished
all who dared to plot against him
either by skinning them alive in the
presence of the horrified suspected
accomplices, or by having them
quartered and devoured by croco-
diles. Only once, however, did he
honor someone by killing her with
his own hands: the sick old fortune-
teller whom he strangled "with the
strap of his gold spur, without pain,
without a sigh," when she dared to
tell him exactly how he was going
to die.
Garcia M6rquez, however, did not
paint a one-sided mythical carica-
ture of a blood-thirsty monster. The
irony of it all is that the Patriarch is
a love-starved, lonely poor devil,
who pampers his ailing mother, is
passionately in love with his wife,
and whose most ardent desire is to
be loved by his people. He governs
the country as if it were his own per-
sonal household, knows his subjects
by name, personally takes care of
their domestic problems even to
the point of stepping out of his
limousine in a slum to repair with
his own hands the sewing machine
of an old woman who had received
it from him as a special presidential
CA rBBFAN rFviEW /39

gift. Everywhere he goes he is hailed
enthusiastically by the spontaneous
cry "Viva el macho!" and his popu-
larity is evidenced by the fact that
mobs of fanatics storm the palace
of the Apostolic Nuntiature and al-
most lynch the Papal nuncio when
he refuses to support the presidential
request to cannonize the matriarch
of the nation. Besides the horror and
revulsion the reader must feel at the
atrocities committed by the Patri-
arch, there is much in the book to
engender a kind of secret sympathy
and compassion.
Rather than simply a political
satire of the dictator, the novel is a
critique of the people who, for more
than a century, accepted his ruth-
less paternalistic domination. The
real target of the author's protest
is the primitive and superstitious
mentality of underdevelopment
which make such figures as the Pa-
triarch possible, and above all the
historical socio-economic condi-
tions that were a factor in bringing
about and maintaining that men-
tality.
The Marxist novelist is aware of
the fact that such a mentality is
mainly the result of foreign capital-
istic exploitation, and that the peo-
ple's ignorance is the inevitable
effect of having been systematically
robbed of their natural resources,
first by the imperialistic European
powers and then by the United
States. This conviction is trans-
posed by the author into one of the
most preposterous mythical con-
structions of the novel. Having dis-

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covered near the end of his rule that
there is not a penny left in the na-
tion's treasury, the impotent puppet
finally yields to the American am-
bassador, agreeing to sell him the
territorial waters in order to avoid
yet another landing of the marines:
"... go out into the street and look
truth in the face, your excellency,
we're on the final curve, either the
marines land or we take the sea,
there's no other way, mother, so
they took away the Caribbean in
April, Ambassador Ewing's nautical
engineers carried it off in numbered
pieces to plant it far from the hurri-
canes in the blood-red dawns of
Arizona, they took it away with
everything it had inside it general
sir, with the reflection of our cities,
our timid drowned people, our
demented dragons..."
The Patriarch justifies the crimi-
nal bargain with one of the most
passionate allegations in Latin
American literature against Amer-
ican military intervention: "... I had
to bear the weight of this punish-
ment alone, I had to sign alone
thinking mother of mine Bendici6n
Alvarado no one knows better than
you that it's better to be left without
the sea than to allow a landing of
marines, remember that they were
the ones who thought up the orders
they made me sign, they turned our
artists into fairies, they brought the
Bible and syphilis, they made peo-
ple believe that life was easy, moth-
er, that everything is gotten with
money, that blacks carry a conta-
gion, they tried to convince our
soldiers that the nation is a business
and that the sense of honor is a
bother invented by the government
so that the soldiers would fight for
free, and it was to avoid the repeti-
tion of all those ills that I granted
them the right to make use of our
territorial waters in the way they

"A fascinating counter-
point is achieved by Garcia
Mirquez by pitching the
semantic staccato of the
constantly surprising
images of concrete nouns
against the natural legato
of the Spanish language
driven by the metric
ferocity of Ruben Darfo."

considered best for the interests of
humanity and peace among peo-
ples, with the understanding that
said cession not only included the
physical waters visible from the
window of his bedroom to the hori-
zon but everything that is under-
stood by sea in the broadest sense,
or, the flora and fauna belonging to
said waters, its system of winds, the
inconsistency of its millibars, every-
thing, but I could never have imag-
ined that they would be capable of
doing what they did to carry off the
numbered blocks of my old checker-
board sea with gigantic suction
dredges and in its torn crater we saw
appear the instantaneous sparkle
of the submerged remains of the
very ancient city of Santa Maria de
Darien laid low by the whirlwind...
they carried off everything that had
been the reasons for my wars and
the motive of his power and left
behind only the deserted plain of
harsh lunar dust as he passed by the
windows..."
The masterly appropriation of
the Rabelaisian technique of the
grotesque is of course insufficient
to explain the effect of this novel
on the reader. It is on the linguistic
level, on the level of enunciation,
where the most powerful forces of
persuasion are at work. Consistent
with his concept of literature as "the
best toy ever invented to make fun
of people," Garcia M6rquez carries
his humor to style. But here again
this is done with the same boldness
with which he embarked on the ad-
venture of the grotesque. The hyper-
bolization of content is masterfully
matched by the hyperbolization of
form and style.

The New
Latin American Novel
Garcia Marquez has thus revolution-
ized the structure of the Latin Amer-
ican Novel. He has eliminated dia-
logue which is the expression of the
novel's predominantly dramatic
form, but he also has done away
with narrative and description,
other characteristic traits of tradi-
tional fiction, by inserting them in
and thus making them part of a
chain of monologues.
If Garcia M6rquez restores the
novel to its ideal form by setting it
off as much as possible from every
other literary genre, he also gives
it definitive and absolute autonomy
by rescuing it from what was its
most dangerous threat the film. In

a desperate attempt to save the
novel from extinction, contempo-
rary writers have adopted cinemato-
graphic techniques for structuring
their short stories and novels. Gar-
cfa Marquez scorns these efforts.
He discovered in M6xico, precisely
when most actively engaged in writ-
ing film scripts, the boundless pos-
sibilities of the novel, and what and
how it could say what the film never
could say. He was struck by the self-
evident fact that the novel is made
of words, as the silent film is made
exclusively of visual images. If the
novel consisted of words, its auton-
omy and excellence depended on
words; if images there must be, the
word had to command the image.
Enlightened with this insight,
Garcia Marquez wrote One Hundred
Years of Solitude, one of the most
outstanding linguistic monuments
of contemporary literature. But with
that novel his literary revolution
had only started. With The Autumn
of the Patriarch he has erected an
even more colossal linguistic struc-
ture. More than a highly successful
stylistic tour de force, The Autumn
of the Patriarch is probably the
most remarkable linguistic and lit-
erary feat in contemporary Spanish
literature.
While engaged in this monumen-
tal architectonic enterprise, Garcia
Marquez continued to play. If litera-
ture was the best toy to make fun
of people and the novel but a lin-
guistic feat, it was inevitable that
Garcia Marquez would want to
revolutionize style through humor.
Thus, the literary utterance itself
had to become a toy. To play, he
needed a playmate, and he could
think of no better one than the read-
er, whom he would try to win to his
side as his secret accomplice, just
as he had won his collusion in the
acceptance of the grotesque.
It has been almost dogma for
Spanish writers since Azorin to write
in short, concise sentences. As a
reaction to excessive baroque orna-
mentation and to romanticist pa-
thetic eloquence and rhetorical tur-
gidity, war was declared on rhetoric,
on bombastic style and all forms of
baroque verbosity. Even a four-line
sentence was a misdemeanor, a
well rounded ten-line period an un-
forgivable felony. In the last chapter
of The Autumn of the Patriach
Garcia Marquez responds to the
taboo of the Generation of 98 with
a one paragraph chapter of 52 pages

"A scholar can present the
most convincing evidence
of the intolerable socio-
political evils of Latin
America, support it with an
elaborate statistical
apparatus, interpret it with
the help of sophisticated
theoretical terminology
and when he is finished,
his audience will leave and
probably forget all about it
very quickly; but should an
imaginative artist take a
concrete incident, blow it
up to the proportions of
caricature, describe it in a
humorous way, as Garcia
Marquez does, and the
audience will not only get
the point but also will
never forget it."

without a single period except for
the last one. This seems to be an-
other imposition that even the most
benevolent reader would not be ex-
pected to tolerate. Again Garcia
M6rquez gets away with it. The odd
thing about these gigantic periods
is that the reader keeps reading
without feeling that peculiar uneasi-
ness of imminent boredom that
often unwillingly creeps up while
reading some of Cicero's or Cer-
vantes' most verbose passages. The
reader realizes, of course, that he
is being taken for a ride, but after
a moment of self-defensive hesita-
tion, surrenders to the seduction of
the hustler, accepts the ride and
becomes his accomplice.
The secret of this fascination is
Garcia Marquez' imaginative lan-
guage. Undoubtedly there is also a
masterly command of syntax, which
enables him technically to construct
a labyrinth of clauses skillfully
linked to each other by a profusion
of different syntactical articulations.
The main lure, however, stems from
the verbal surprise. The linguistic
genius of Garcia Marquez lies in his
incredible ability to select and to
link. The magic lies not, however,

in the selection of unusual words,
but in the unusual mating of usual
ones, and the pander of this verbal-
mating is Garcia M6rquez' powerful
imagination. It brings together the
most unrelated images and words,
perhaps detecting a relatedness
that escapes the common view.
In spite of its linguistic virtuosity,
the style of The Autumn of the Pa-
triarch is never a barrier between
reader and narrative. From an or-
thographic point of view the novel
is a striking anomaly. There are no
quotation, question, or exclamation
marks, and no paragraph indention.
The only orthographic signs the
author ever uses are the comma,
the period (very rare!), and capital
letters for proper names and begin-
ning of paragraphs (also very rare).
The result of this orthographic
meagerness is a relentless flow of
words, a verbal cataract, driven by
a subliminal rhythm like the con-
stant beat of the heart or of cere-
monial drums in a voodoo-dance
leading to trance.
It almost seems as if Garcia Mar-
quez were parodying the great Ni-
caraguan poet Ruben Dario in his
Marcha Triunfal. As a matter of fact,
the only Latin American poet refer-
red to is Ruben Dario. Even the
episode of his visit to the city of the
Patriarch and his public recital in
the National Theatre are described
in detail. Some of the highly rhyth-
mic verses of the Marcha Triunfal,
pulsating to the beat of the proces-
sional drums, are so masterfully
intertwined with the narrative that
it is difficult for one who does not
know Dario's poem to distinguish
his verses from Garcia M6rquez
own rhythmic prose in that passage.
Does the rhythm echo the constant
beat of the heart of the lonely, love-
starved Patriarch or rather the heart-
beat of the reader, dazzled and
enthralled by the literary footwork?
A fascinating counterpoint is a-
chieved by Garcia Marquez by pitch-
ing the semantic staccato of the
constantly surprising images of
concrete nouns against the natural
legato of the Spanish language
driven by the metric ferocity of
Rub6n Dario.
Garcia M6rquez spins a stylistic
web with which he fascinates and
entraps the reader, and even more
so the listener, no matter how little
he may care for literature. Even a
twelve year old can hear it and still
be entertained. That is why Garcia
CABBRAN r~vEW /41

Photo of Gabriel Garcia MArquez from One Hundred Years of Solitude, Harper & Row.

Marquez can also write about the
most revolting ugliness and the
most truculent horror without break-
ing the spell. The readers may not
like what he is writing about, but
they are certainly surprised and
enthralled by the way he expresses
it. Irony and humor are very power-
ful forces of persuasion. A scholar
can present the most convincing
evidence of the intolerable socio-
political evils of Latin America,
support it with an elaborate statis-
tical apparatus, interpret it with the
help of sophisticated theoretical
terminology and when he is finished,
his audience will leave and probably
forget all about it very quickly; but
should an imaginative artist take a
concrete incident, blow it up to the
proportions of caricature, describe
it in a humorous way, as Garcia
Marquez does, and the audience
will not only get the point but also
will never forget it.
The appeal of the language of the
novel is enhanced by realistic, every-
day speech. The characters through-
out use popular vulgar expressions,
as: "pendejos," "cabrones," "hijos
de puta," "mierda," "carajo." They
42/ CAIBB AN rTVICW

are the indispensable spice of street
language and Garcia Marquez sees
no reason for shunning them in lit-
erature. They reflect the reality of
a language, especially the language
of Caribbean men, and the reality
of the world of these men, which is
a pronouncedly sexual one. This is
indeed a very poetic, but at the
same time very down-to-earth lit-
erature. The interjection of a vulgar
expression in the midst of the tor-
rent of images immediately estab-
lishes a special rapport with the
reader to whom that language and
that world are familiar.
Garcia Marquez has succeeded
in producing a genuine and uniquely
Caribbean literary masterpiece. The
exuberant richness of Garcia Mar-
quez' imaginative universe absorbs
and reflects the Caribbean orgy of
form. Races of all continents have
miscegenated there, cultures and
customs most foreign to each other
have syncretized, nature exploded
into myriads of forms, and the con-
stant feast of color and sound goad
the formal carnival to paroxysm.
This is a world of things and peo-
ple, and because nouns name them,

"This style is indeed
baroque, although not
because of superfluous
and excessive ornamenta-
tion, but because it faith-
fully reflects the Caribbean
superabundance. The
richness and variety of
forms compel the writer to
incessant enumeration."

the language of Garcia Marquez is
eminently substantive. The syntac-
tical expression of this fact is to be
found in the endless series of nouns
linked to each other by the preposi-
tion "de", whereby the writer elim-
inates adjectives. This is exempli-
fied in the description of the fasci-
nation that the Patriarch's chief of
intelligence and organizer of his
torture apparatus has exerted over
him: "... he would succumb to the
dazzle of the soft manners of the
natural gardenia of the pure voice
of the aromatic salts of the emerald
cufflings of the waxed head of the
serene walking stick of the serious
beauty of the most desirable and
most unbearable man my eyes had
ever seen..." (translation, R.M.) This
style is indeed baroque, although
not because of superfluous and ex-
cessive ornamentation, but because
it faithfully reflects the Caribbean
superabundance. The richness and
variety of forms compel the writer
to incessant enumeration.
The physical proximity of such a
plethora of forms would seem not
only to furnish the Caribbean imag-
ination with inexhaustible materials,
but also to encourage it to poetic
mating. Yet one of the most strik-
ing things about the people of the
Caribbean is that they are so im-
mersed in this prodigiously varie-
gated universe and so identified with
their natural element that they end
up being not aware of it at all. They
are frequently amused by the ad-
miration expressed by strangers
about things which they themselves
consider most ordinary. Living in a
magic world, they have become ac-
customed to magic. This is perhaps
what prompted another great Carib-
bean novelist, the Cuban, Alejo Car-
pentier, to remark that magic real-
ism was germane to Latin American

"The exuberant richness of
Garcia M rquez's
imaginative universe
absorbs and reflects the
Caribbean orgy of form."

writers. They do not have to look
for far-fetched exotic characters and
motifs, like their European counter-
parts, to create their magic-realist
fictional universe. The Ibero-Ameri-
can world is already magic by itself,
and the writer has only to open his
eyes to find everywhere the epiph-
any of the fantastic.
The perspective in The Autumn
of the Patriarch is magic-realist,
again commonly shared by all the
character-monologuists of the nov-
el. They are all superstitious typical
characters of the underdeveloped
Caribbean, on whom neither En-
lightenment, nor Positivism, nor the
Industrial nor Scientific Revolutions
ever made any significant impact.
Their Catholicism is primitive, their
view of the world narrow and pro-
vincial. But that which really makes
the eyes of these people magic are
the socio-economic conditions of
underdevelopment. Garcia M6r-
quez's awareness of this is reflected
in the undeniable political intention
of the novel. In the final analysis
The Autumn of the Patriarch re-
veals itself to us as a persiflage of
the magic mentality of underdevel-
opment and of those responsible
for it: the foreign capitalist exploit-
ers and their accomplices, the
domestic puppets, who with their
servility and corruption have ruined
the economy and the culture of
their country. Although there are
still several "Patriarchs" left in the
Caribbean, their autumn may well
be nearing an end. May we hope
that this marvelous "toy" also has
the magic virtue of rendering them
permanently invisible.

Notes
1. The most notorious examples of
20th century political terror in the
Caribbean are the 27 year regime
of Carlos Vicente G6mez (1908-35)
and Marcos P6rez Jim6nez (1951-
57) in Venezuela, the 31 year regime
of Rafael Leonidas Trujillo (1930-
61) in the Dominican Republic, the
14 year regime of Francois (Papa
Doc) Duvalier (1957-71) in Haiti, the

dictatorships of Gerardo Machado
(1925-33) and Fulgencio Batista
(1940-44 and 1952-58) in Cuba, and
the 40 year regime of Anastasio
Somoza (1937-56) and his dynasty
(1956- ) in Nicaragua. The lon-
gevity of the Patriarch parodies the
duration of these regimes. The very
circumspect Encyclopaedia Britan-
nica admits that "the dictatorship
of Rafael Trujillo (1930-61) was one
of the longest, cruelest, most ab-
solute dictatorships the world has
ever known. For over three decades
Trujillo ruled his country with an
iron hand; virtually everything in the
country belonged to him. Trujillo
dominated the armed forces, the
government, the economy, the
church, education, intellectual life,
sports, everything." The regime of
Carlos Vicente G6mez in Venezuela,
to whom incidentally the illustra-
tion on the title page of the Spanish
edition of the novel bears a striking
resemblance, was no less ruthless.
Again the Britannica: "He muzzled
the press and stifled the opposition
with an elaborate spy service, and
he used arbitrary arrests, exiles,
long imprisonments, and assas-
sinations to insure his control. Ef-
ficient police and army organiza-
tions, modernized and professional-
ized by G6mez, maintained his
power through unrestricted use of
force. Mass executions of dissenters

were common particularly under
the regimes of G6mez in Venezuela
and Trujillo in the Dominican Re-
public and under the dictatorship
of General Maximiliano Hernandez
Martinez (1931-44) in El Salvador.
In October 1937, troops and police
from the Dominican Republic mas-
sacred thousands of Haitian laborers
living near the border. Many women
and children were killed in the mas-
sacre. The political excesses of the
Patriarch are indeed well founded
on facts. A detailed description of
life under these regimes a history
that was never written and probab-
ly will never be would surely sound
just as caricatural as the story of
the Patriarch!
2. One of the most amusing politi-
cal myths of The Autumn of the
Patriarch is the one that relates how
"the brotherhood of nostalgic for-
mer dictators" were given asylum
and protection by the Patriarch in
a mansion on the cliffs facing the
Caribbean. There they spent their
time on easy chairs on the terrace,
playing dominoes, mending their
wornout clothes, remembering past
glories, and waiting eagerly for the
day when they would be called back
by their people to "save them from
disaster and anarchy."
Ram6n Mendoza teaches Comparative Litera-
ture at Florida International University. He is
presently working on a study of Kafka.

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CARBBF.AN IFWVIe 143

1l IITllVS LIIIISII lU'VE

e, I I "LO I'VlI0

lI It1l lA 1 0
'L h'IX 1 I 1

qtvo 'O :I il

LIVING THE V
REVOLI N FrancineJ. Danger
Four Men: Living the Four Women: Living the Neighbors: Living the
Revolution, An Oral History Revolution, An Oral History Revolution, An Oral History
of Contemporary Cuba. Oscar of Contemporary Cuba. Oscar of Contemporary Cuba. Oscar
Lewis, Ruth M. Lewis, and Susan Lewis, Ruth M. Lewis, and Susan Lewis, Ruth M. Lewis, and Susan
Rigdon. 538 pp. University of Rigdon. 443 pp. University of Rigdon. 581 pp. University of
Illinois Press, 1977. $15.00. Illinois Press, 1977. $15.00. Illinois Press, 1978. $15.00.

44/ CArBHEAN t-VICW

"The general purpose of our project
in Cuba was to study the impact of
a revolution upon the daily lives of
individuals and families represent-
ing different socioeconomic levels
in both rural and urban settings...
We also hoped to observe the mass
organizations and revolutionary in-
stitutions as they functioned at the
local level and evaluate, albeit ten-
tatively, the degree of success or
failure in achieving some goals of
the Revolution."(Ruth Lewis in Four
Men.)

In 1969, at the invitation of Fidel
Castro and the Cuban Academy of
Sciences, Oscar and Ruth Lewis
embarked with their research team
on what was intended to be a three
year research project in post-rev-
olutionary Cuba. I was to have join-
ed the team in June of 1970, but in
that same month the project was
unexpectedly cancelled by the
Cuban government after only a year
and a half of study. A large percent-
age of their field notes was confis-
cated, but they were invited to stay
on as tourists. Oscar became quite
ill from the stress of the situation
and the team left Cuba two days
after the project had been halted.
He never regained his health. He
died six months later of a heart at-
tack.
Immediately after his death, Ruth
Lewis resolved to complete "Project
Cuba." She had managed to save
considerably more than half of the
field notes that she and her husband
had compiled, but they were frag-
mentary and incomplete. With the
assistance of Susan Rigdon she
was able to edit the 24,500 pages
of notes into a four volume work:
An Oral History of Contemporary
Cuba. The first two volumes were
published in 1977, the third will
shortly appear. The fourth volume,
not yet in print, will be, in Ruth's
words, "... a special study of slum
families..." who have been relocated
by the Cuban government.
It is unfortunate that the entire
history is urban-oriented.The Lewises
had intended to give equal time and
weight to the effects of the Revolu-
tion on rural Cuba but were forced
to leave before research in this area
could begin.
The Oral History is comprised
of the life stories of ordinary peo-
ple, as told in their own words. Each
biography is garnered from long

hours of tape-recorded interviews,
skillfully woven together to form a
superbly written and personal nar-
rative. Oscar Lewis developed this
method of presenting his research
in three earlier works: The Children
of Sanchez, Pedro Martinez, and
La Vida, calling it "... a new kind of
literature of social realism." He
won both popular and critical ac-
claim, and in 1966 La Vida was
given the National Book Award in
the Science/Philosophy/Religion
category. But he also drew heavy
criticism. Many social scientists
questioned the objectivity of Lewis's
method. Others felt that his editing
reflected his own attitudes rather
than the perspective of the narrator
he was quoting. Some even went so
far as to call the works "ethnogra-
phic novels" rather than scientific
studies, citing the dearth of factual
data about the narrators' communi-
ties as the prime weakness. They
pointed out that the viewpoints of
Lewis's narrators are necessarily
subjective, and if they are to have
any value to a sociologist should
be qualified by factual information
which indicates the nature of the
narrator's society.
Ruth Lewis is aware that these
criticisms affect the credibility of
her husband's work. She has there-
fore fleshed out the Oral History
with generous footnotes and detail-
ed epilogues which relate historical,
social, and economic changes di-
rectly to the lives of the narrators.
But she was not able to give it the
same richness and depth as Oscar's
best work, The Children of Sanchez.
He would examine an event from
the viewpoint of each member of
the family, letting the truth of the
situation gradually emerge out of
the several divergent attitudes
toward it. Unfortunately, Ruth did
not have the research material nec-
essary to do this; they were forced
to leave Cuba before even one of
these "total family" studies could
be completed.

Four Men
"I am primarily interested in how
the poor react to this kind of rev-
olution."(Oscar Lewis in Four Men)

Four Men, the first volume of the
Oral History of Contemporary
Cuba, is about four men: their ages,
races, backgrounds and attitudes
about the Revolution are all differ-

ent; but they all live in an Havana
slum called Las Yaguas, and they
were all born poor.

"Don't get the idea that I want to
force anybody to love the Revolu-
tion. I believe that everyone has
the right to his own opinion... As
for me, I'm completely in love, with
this Revolution. In love, in love, in
love! I'd do anything for it. Viva la
Revoluci6n!" (Benedi Rodiquez)

Benedi Rodiquez was born in Havana,
in 1900. His parents were black ex-
slaves and he was one of ten chil-
dren. At the age of 12 he left school
to become a houseboy. Later he
learned carpentry, moved to Las
Yaguas, built himself a shanty, and
practiced his trade there for 50
years. He could read and write, and
he kept well-informed enough to
be able to help his neighbors in
their dealings with official agencies.
He became a priest and faith-healer
in an Afro-Cuban religion, and was
active in many political groups.
Eventually he became highly influen-
tial in the little world of the Las Ya-
guas barrio.
Although he was arrested several
times for political activity connect-
ed to the Communist movement,
he never actually joined the Party.
He preferred being a liberal reformer
to being a revolutionary. He remain-
ed optimistic throughout his 30-
year political career, believing in
the efficacy of organized political
activity and in the promises of each
new dictator. After the Revolution
he joined the militia, the Campaign
Against Illiteracy, and numerous
other committees. In contrast, Be-
nedi has not been successful in his
personal life. All six of his "free-
union" marriages have ended in sep-
arations, and his two sons are
criminals who have spent most of
their adult lives in jail.

"Today you fall in love, tomorrow
you have children, and you may
have an affectionate wife, but there
is always some one thing that keeps
you from saying, 'I'm happy.' I be-
lieve that happiness doesn't exist
except for just an hour or a day.
After that there's nothing but de-
struction and pain." (Alfredo Bar-
rera Lordi)

Alfredo Barrera Lordi is a mulatto
born in Las Yaguas in 1932. He was
the eldest of eight children, all
CAI?BBEAN rVIEW1 /45

products of a free-union marriage.
His father was a janitor in a cigar
factory and the mayor of Las Yaguas.
His mother was a seamstress and
laundress. After he dropped out of
school at the age of fourteen he did
odd jobs delivering lunch pails and
newspapers, and shining shoes.
Later he became a cook, then a
painter; a truck loader, then a pimp.
Under the Revolution, he is a gar-
bage collector.
Politically, he is ambivalent. He
speaks favorably of Castro, but he
is unwilling to be the selfless, hard
working, community service orient-
ed person required by socialist
morality. He dislikes his job and
longs for the independence he had
when he was hustling on the street.
Personally, he is unhappy. His first
wife died in childbirth just three
years after their marriage in a civil
ceremony. Then he entered into a
free-union marriage and now is rais-
ing seven children his, hers, and
theirs. This marriage is a disappoint-
ment to Barrera too. He cares little
for the welfare of society at large,
and has become neurotic and em-
bittered.
"Even if I didn't like the Revolution
I'd have to accept it, because as
one of humble rank I've benefited
from it... Sure there is still poverty
under Fidel, but poor ignorant peo-
ple aren't treated like animals. We
have rights. Nobody can exploit
you now because it is forbidden to
live off anybody else." (Nicolas
Salazar Fernandez)
Nicolas Salazar Fernandez was born
in Las Yaguas in 1938 to white
parents. He was one of 11 children.
When he was eight, his mother
abandoned the family. From then
on he was raised by his father, an
unskilled laborer. His father lost his
job on a construction site two years
later, and all of the children were
taken out of school to beg in the
streets with him. At the age of 12
Nicolas and his brother were arrest-
ed for vagrancy and sent to reform
school. He was back on the streets
at 16 selling bottles, flowers, and
candy. Finally he married a prosti-
tute and lived off her earnings.
After the Revolution he got his
first full-time job. At first he contin-
ued to indulge in the poor work
habits of his pre-revolutionary days
- unreliability and absenteeism. But
later he joined the militia and be-
46/ CAF RMCAN PCVTIEW

came active on revolutionary com-
mittees, and soon he was volunteer-
ing for "productive labor" in addi-
tion to working full time. One of the
reasons he threw himself into com-
munity action work was to mitigate
the disappointments of his private
life. His neighbors had ridiculed him
for living with a former prostitute,
his third wife, and for being a "house
husband" while his wife worked. In
spite of the Revolution, the social
values of the people do not seem to
have changed much.

"I felt completely abandoned and
humiliated. I used to sit and won-
der what was going to become of
me. I knew that if I didn't find a
decent job I'd have to steal, and all
I had to look forward to was jail. It
was the Revolution that pulled me
out of the swamp that I was stuck
in. It made a human being out of
me. When I think of things I went
through as a child it still makes
me sad." (Gabriel Capote Pacheco)

Gabriel Capote Pacheco was born
in a small town in Oriente Province,
probably in 1941. He is a Mulatto
and the youngest of three children.
His soldier-father abandoned the
family. His mother was a domestic
and a prostitute and she brought
her children to Havana when Capote
was 11. He never went to school and
was completely illiterate even to
the point of being unable to add or
make change. Even so he was on
the streets at a very early age selling
lottery tickets. When he grew older
he worked a coffee stand for six
years. Now he works as a janitor
and a waiter.
Capote has a steady work history
and enjoys working. He is grateful
to the government for his job and
status in the party and particularly
for its literacy program. He married
in 1963 and has three children, all
of whom suffer from serious emo-
tional problems and are subject to
psychotic behavior. In 1969 he left
his wife and children, and entered
into a free-union marriage with an-
other woman.

Four Women
The four female narrators who
comprise the second volume of the
oral history have much more diver-
gent histories than did the four
men. They come from socioeco-

nomic backgrounds which range
from poverty to upper middle-class,
and one of the women was born in
a rural area. However, all now live
in Havana.

"If they asked me tomorrow I'd
give my life for the Revolution. I
don't see anything strange in that,
even if I am middle-class. The aims
of the Revolution are so great that
I must give my entire life to attain-
ing them. I cannot give myself
wholly to a man and let him become
an end in himself. I don't want to
feel I couldn't live without him. I
refuse to depend on anybody. I will
fight that always." (M6nica Ramos
Reyes)

Four Women begins with the life
history of M6nica Ramos Reyes, a
white woman born in Pinar del Rio
in 1945. She was the youngest of
three children and is the only nar-
rator in the first two volumes who
comes from a middle-class back-
ground. Her father was a postal of-
ficial. Her mother was a psychol-
ogist, an independent career woman
who was both overprotective of her
daughters and determined that they
should be educated for professional
careers. M6nica is the only person
in the entire Oral History to have
completed a University education.
Because she had a politically active
mother, she was involved in the
Revolution from early childhood.
Most of her life, including her mar-
riage, was either occupied with
education or political activity. Her
deep political involvement resulted
in many separations from her hus-
band who was also a student. A
housekeeper cared for her children
and she seemed relieved to be free
of traditional family responsibilities.
M6nica is temperamental and has
difficulty getting along with a group.
As a result she never became a Party
member and even gave up her
membership in the Union of Young
Communists. Still she believes that
she serves the Revolution through
her career and volunteer work.

"We Christians are prejudiced
against the lower classes, no mat-
ter how we deny it. I've been told
there are class distinctions among
the revolutionaries also, but I don't
know whether that's true. If I only
knew some revolutionaries I could
look up to, it might help me make

up my mind to commit myself to
the Revolution." (Gracia Rivera
Herrera)

Gracia Rivera Herrera was born in
Havana in 1943. She is white and
the eldest of four children. Her father
had a small poultry business, her
mother was a servant: She is a busi-
ness school graduate, she never
married and is a devout Roman
Catholic. She was first recruited into
counter-revolutionary activities, and
eventually became a nun. Ironical-
ly, the convent was run by a priest
who was a devout revolutionary. She
describes him as "sadistic and tyran-
nical." He maintained control over
Gracia and some of the other nuns
by engaging them in love affairs.
She suffered a nervous breakdown
and left the convent to undergo
shock therapy. Gracia is caught be-
tween competing authorities. On
one hand is the Church and her
perception of it, on the other is the
Revolution supported by her society.
She is now a somewhat ambivalent
supporter of the Revolution.

"It was all so different before the
Revolution. A girl like me, from a
poor family with never enough to
eat, well, she had only two ways to
go, the brothel or domestic service.
I went to the brothel; there was
more money in it. But how I detest-
ed it! And detested myself even
more. Believe me, if it hadn't been
for the triumph of the Revolution
I'd be dead by now. It was my sal-
vation." (Pilar L6pez Gonzales)

Pilar L6pez Gonzales, a mulatto,
was born in Havana in 1942, the
second of eight children. Her father
was a bus driver, her mother a house-
wife. As a child Pilar was neglected
because she was dark skinned and
not a male. She married twice and
had two children. She worked as a
maid but when her first marriage
ended she became a prostitute. Her
health deteriorated rapidly from her
dependance on alcohol and drugs,
many abortions and two suicide at-
tempts. "She appeared completely
defeated," Lewis says, "by a system
whose every bad feature economic
oprression, racism, sexism, authori-
tarianism, and physical abuse had
been reflected in her family, un-
redeemed by a single good relation-
ship." In 1961 Pilar joined a new
government-supported rehabilita-

tion program. All her life she had
been apolitical, but as she gradually
regained her self-respect her com-
mitment to the Revolution grew.
When she finished rehabilitation
school, the government provided
her with a home and sent her daugh-
ters to boarding school. When the
Lewises left Cuba in 1970, she was
enrolled at the University and an
enthusiastic supporter of the Rev-
olution.

"Before the Revolution a servant
was like a dog -- at the bottom.
That's what I was, a servant, and
even my family looked down upon
me. At our reunions I always felt
inferior. Their clothes were good,
mine were not. I am a servant again,
but working for the Revolutionary
government is a different matter.
I'm no poorer than anyone else and
I am not treated like an inferior. I
feel the same as if I were a clerk in
a store." (Innocencia Acosta Felipe)

Innocencia Acosta Felipe is white
and was born in the rural village of
Matanzas in 1916. She was the ninth
of 12 children. Her father was a
sugar cane farmer, her mother a
housewife. She had only three years
of irregular schooling, but a very
happy home life. When still a child
her adored father died and the family
farm was lost. For the next ten years
she lived with relatives and did their
housework. After that she took a
maid's position in Havana. At 27 she
married, hoping to gain security.
She resented having to submit to
the will of her husband but lacked
the courage to leave, so lived with
him for 25 years until after the Rev-
olution. She was accustomed to self-
lessness and hard work, so she ad-
justed easily to the austerities of
the Revolution. Many of her attitudes
about race, religion, and sex roles
ran counter to the official govern-
ment position, but that didn't pre-
vent Innocencia from accommodat-
ing herself to political realities.
It is interesting to note that the
women studied in "Project Cuba"
showed few signs of feminism as it
exists in the United States. The
Revolution puts little or no emphasis
on personal fulfillment for women.
The only route to self-realization
lies in service to the state. It is true
that Cuban women have been liber-
ated from their traditional roles to
some degree; they are now free to

serve in the labor force and in mass
organizations. But Oscar Lewis
points out that Innocencia, for ex-
ample, adjusted easily to the "aus-
terities of the Revolution" because
"the ideals of selflessness, produc-
tivity and service..."which made her
a good wife also prepared her to be
a good communist.

Neighbors
"This is a system of collective ac-
tion but that is exactly what we
don't have here. People are still liv-
ing for themselves and that's not
right."

The purpose of the third volume of
the Oral History is to illustrate how
the social upheaval following the
Revolution brought people of di-
vergent backgrounds together
under radically different circum-
stances. Neighbors is a study of five
unrelated families who share a
small apartment house in Miramar,
a Havana suburb. Relatives, neigh-
bors, and school teachers were inter-
viewed as well as the family mem-
bers themselves a total of 41 peo-
ple. Three of the families are white,
one is mulatto, and one is black.
Four families are from poor, rural
backgrounds, the fifth is urban mid-
dle-class. Their educational levels
range from illiteracy to college-
preparatory school.

CAtBBEAN rcVIEW /47

Neighbors adds an interesting
dimension to our understanding of
contemporary Cuba. A new type of
mixed residential neighborhood
arose out of what had been the up-
per and middle-class suburbs of
Havana. The former residents were
forced to leave almost all their per-
sonal wealth and valuables in Cuba,
and, as a result, thousands of furn-
ished homes and apartments were
confiscated by the state. Some of
them became schools, dormitories,
and offices; the remainder were
leased to the people on the basis of
need, at nominal rents. The few
original residents who were allowed
to remain in their homes found
their life-style radically changed.
They now lived in close proximity
to people they had formerly consid-
ered undesirable, and the "Un-
desirables" had taken over their
private beaches, clubs, yards, and
playgrounds.
Neighbors is divided into four
sections. In the first section, adult
narrators describe how the neighbor-
hoods have changed, what their
personal problems are, and what
areas of conflict and cooperation
exist among the resident families.
The second section deals with the
biographies of the adult residents
up to 1959, before the Revolution.
Part three describes their lives
under the Castro regime, the effects
of the Revolution upon each home
and family, and how they regard
the new order. The last section
consists of an account of changes
in the status of children and a de-
scription of home and school activi-
ties. The Lewises were only able to
interview three children from three
different families.
Community relations among
neighbors are superficial but cor-
dial. They have found it expedient
to help each other in difficult situa-
tions. "It was a matter of reciprocity.
That was the kind of friendship we
had, nothing very deep, just pleas-
ant, neighborly relations." Still, the
residents tend to divide themselves
into "cliques" according to race
and class. The government spon-
sors mass participation, collective
action programs designed to pro-
mote a sense of community, but
with little success. Ruth Lewis ob-
serves that "Many of the problems
that arose might have been more
easily solved had there not been
such fundamental resentments
48/ CAIBBEAN FCVIEM

among the families, stemming in
part from class bias, racism, class
differences, and the misuse of poli-
tical influence." Susan Rigdon came
to the conclusion that the Revolu-
tion must go a good deal farther
before its goal of a "higher form of
social relationship" can be reached.
It is evident that sexism, racism, and
class cleavages have not been erased
as efficiently as have the institutions
that perpetuated them.

"The revolutionary process -- the
transformation of an entire society,
the impact of new institutions and
cultural values with all the conflicts
and hopes they engender..." (Oscar
Lewis, 1969)

The subject of Susan Sheehan's A
Welfare Mother makes an interest-
ing foil for the Lewises' narrators in
the Oral History, and illustrates a
point that concerned their research
team from the outset. Sheehan's
book is about Mrs. Carmen Santana
who was born in Puerto Rico in 1932,
never got past the eight grade, has
no marketable skills, barely speaks
English, and is a welfare mother in
New York City. She often falsely
represents her circumstances in
order to increase the welfare bene-
fits that she receives for herself and
her children to about $600 a month,
plus food stamps. No one in her
family starves, but she and her chil-
dren are locked into a hopeless
cycle of poverty. She approaches
life passively, for it is a static state
over which she has no control and
in which she has lost interest.
Oscar Lewis strongly believed
that unless the cycle of poverty is
somehow broken, it will continue
indefinitely. In 1969 Lewis wrote to
a colleague, "I believe I was overly
optimistic in some of my earlier
evaluations about the disappear-
ance of the culture of poverty under
socialism. However there seems to
me no doubt that the Cuban Revolu-
tion has abolished the conditions
which gave rise to the culture of
poverty." While Mrs. Santana gains
momentary pleasure from televi-
sion soap operas, sex, and fatten-
ing food, these pleasures act as a
shield against the despair that sur-
rounds her. The residents of Las
Yaguas in Lewis' study stand in
sharp contrast. They are hopeful
and optimistic because they have

experienced change and even con-
tributed to it.
"Project Cuba" was also designed
to answer a burning question: What
effect does a socialist revolution in
general, and the Cuban revolution
in particular, have on the cycle of
poverty? Ruth Lewis and Susan
Rigdon intend that the fourth and
final volume of the study will deal
with this directly. Of the lack of dis-
cussion of this question in the first
three volumes, Susan Rigdon, in a
letter to the New York Review of
Books has said, "We can be justly
accused of not attacking the prob-
lem head-on, but with the editing,
footnoting, writing of a Forward and
Introduction, we had enough head-
aches without dragging in this
Trojan horse. We also did not want
the biographical material to get lost
in a renewed controversy over the
culture of poverty concept."
There is one major flaw in the
Oral History. It is the task of the
social scientist, I believe, to do more
than simply record. Organization,
synthesis, and arrangement of data
into meaningful categories and
focused observations is essential.
Only in this way are the special
skills of the social scientist brought
to bear upon the raw data. Much of
Lewis's work suffers from this major
shortcoming -- the failure to gen-
eralize or synthesize from the data.
References to religion, politics,
economics, are made but are inci-
dental to the biographies themselves.
The reader wonders how typical are
the subjects, how were they selected,
are they a representative sample.
Observations made by the staff are
recorded only in the introductions
and in one epilogue. These ques-
tions go unanswered.
Yet, Oral History is the culmina-
tion of an enormous effort by the
Lewis team. Ruth Lewis collaborated
with her late husband throughout
his career. This work shows how
capable she is in her own right and
how heavily she must have contri-
buted to his earlier work. It was a
labor of love for Ruth to put her own
interests aside and complete "Pro-
ject Cuba" in a way that would have
pleased Oscar Lewis.

Anthropologist Francine Daner is with the
University of Texas at Dallas and the author of
The American Children of Krsna.

IN RE: The West Indies
By Gordon K. Lewis

Freedom In The Caribbean:
A Study in Constitutional
Change. Sir Fred Phillips. 737 pp.
Oceana Publications, 1977. $40.00.
With the publication of this massive
volume Sir Fred Phillips, former
Governor of the Associated States
of St. Kitts- Nevis-Anguilla, estab-
lishes himself as a leading scholar
in the study of Commonwealth
Caribbean constitutional and jurid-
ical structures.
With its main emphasis on post
World War II developments, it treats
systematically of a variety of themes:
the historical background to the
new constitutional developments,
the history of the old West Indies
Federation, the new status of as-
sociated statehood, the emergence
of republican constitutions, and
much else.
He writes, of course, in the grand
tradition of the old Barbadian con-

stitutionalists. So, he is a convinced
regionalist of the old school; and,
writing myself as a socialist, it
seems to me that he argues for a
new regional community simply on
romantic grounds: there has to be
a new regional community simply
because there has to be one.
I myself would argue, contrari-
wise, that the fundamental raison
d'etre of such a community rests
on the consideration that increas-
ing political balkanization of the
region -- as the continuing popular-
ity of the secessionist ideology,
as in the recent Nevis referendum
shows -- leaves the region open to
the expanding power of the modern
business multinational corpora-
tions, which constitute, in effect,
the only effective regional sover-
eignty in the Caribbean. If, as the
Vincentian ex-premier 'Sonny' Mit-
chell has put it 'mini-states are for
collectors,' it is because fragment-

ed political power is helpless in
the face of regionalized economic
power.
The chief ideological weakness
of the book is that it fails ade-
quately to examine the social and
economic forces that propel all
constitutional change. So, there is
an extended discussion of repub-
licanism, but nothing on socialism,
which is the main driving force to-
day, not only in Cuba, but also in
Jamaica and Guyana. Having said
that, I have nothing but praise for
the book. It describes in detail the
quiet, almost subterranean revolu-

"For if the power to tax is
the power to destroy, it is
equally axiomatic that the
power to appoint is the
power to control."

CA~BBFAN riCVW 149

The Rio Piedras
Symposium on
Services
June 26 to July 1, 1978
The University of Puerto
Rico is organizing an
international, interdisciplinary
symposium on the service
sector of the economy for late
June 1978. Under the item,
service sector, fall all economic
activities not included in
agriculture, mining,
construction or manufacturing.
Therefore, it includes
government, banking and
finance, insurance, wholesale
and retail trade, education,
health services, tourism,
transportation, real estate, etc.
The several sessions of this
symposium will be arranged in
three parts:
Part I.
Foundations: The Ecology of
the Service Sector The Nature
of Services; The Dynamics of
Services; Are Services
Productive; A Look at the
Spatial, Urban and Legal
Contexts; Some Causative
Factors in Service Dynamics.
Part II.
Country and Industry Case
Studies Advanced Capitalist
Countries; Socialist Countries;
Asian Countries; Latin
American Countries; Other
Countries; Puerto Rico.
Part III.
Services and Mankind's Future
Prospects Learning and the
Future: Past Tense; Learning
and the Future: Future Tense.
Participants in the symposium
include: Walter Galenson;
Kenneth E. Boulding; Colin
Clark; Nelson N. Foote; Jerome
Rothenberg, Peter M. Blau;
Janos Kovacs; Paul W.
Kuznets; Carmelo Mesa-Lago;
Gur Ofer; Shmuel N.
Eisenstadt; Maurice Lengelle;
Elise Boulding; C. West
Churchman.

For information, contact:
Dr. Manuel Sigiienza
Graduate School of Business
University of Puerto Rico
P.O. Box AA
San Juan, Puerto Rico 00931

50/ CArBBHAN ~FVIEW

tion that is taking place in the ju-
ridico-constitutional Caribbean.

The Juridico-
Constitutional Caribbean
There is the vast growth of the
public sector, illustrated in the way
in which the old collective-bargain-
ing mechanism is being replaced
by the mechanism of state indus-
trial courts in the field of labour
relations. There is the new relation-
ship between the politician and the
civil servant which gives new di-
mensions to the whole problem
not only of the dismissability of
public servants but also, far more
threatening, the problem of the
growing politicization of the public
service.
Regrettably, Sir Fred, here, dis-
cusses comparatively minor cases
and tells us little of how he would
interpret, say, the Doddridge Al-
leyne case in Trinidad. For it is of
interest to note that post-indepen-
dence governments have taken over
the old colonial doctrine that the
Crown can dismiss at pleasure. Sir
Fred discusses the issue, partly, in
his analysis of the Guyana case of
1967, Nobrega v. Attorney General.
There is the proliferation of pub-
lic commissions, corporate boards,
statutory bodies, and so on, that
means a whole new jurisprudence
of administrative law. This gives

Sir Fred Phillips

"...the courts remain,
ultimately, the most effec-
tive guardians of the
fundamental rights --
speech, thought, assembly,
and the rest..."

rise to two important developments
(1) the increasing governance of
daily life, in all of its complexity,
by administrative jurisdictions that
compromise the classic doctrine of
parliamentary sovereignty, and (2)
a new power of state political ap-
pointment: "The development which
has caused the most concern among
judges, civil servants, the police,
and other government officials,
"the author notes" is the extent to
which their respective prime min-
isters, premiers and chief ministers
now control their appointments
and promotion -- and in some cases
even their continuance in office."
For if the power to tax is the
power to destroy it is equally axi-
omatic that the power to appoint
is the power to control. That is why,
of course, Sir Fred's discussion of
judicial review is perhaps the most
important theme in this book. It
has its roots, as he reminds us, in
the role of the Privy Council in the
old Crown Colony regime. But the
advent of written constitutions vast-
ly enlarges its ambit, and we already
possess a substantial jurisprudence
in the matter. Both executive ac-
tion and legislative statute-making
are certainly to become increasing-
ly subject to its purview. Of its po-
tential to defend the liberty of the
subject there can be little doubt.
No one, I think, can read Sir
Fred's discussion of the seminal
cases in the contemporary Com-
monwealth Caribbean -- the Anti-
gua newspaper case of 1972, Fran-
cis v. Chief of Police (St. Kitts 1970),
Maximea et. al. v. Attorney Gen-
eral of Dominica of 1973, Herbert
v. Attorney General of St. Kitts of
1974, Byfield v. Allen of Jamaica
1970, In the Matter of John Bryan
Kelshall and Basil Pitt of Trinidad
1971 and Brandt v. Attorney Gen-
eral of Guyana in 1971, not to
mention the Gun Court cases in
Jamaica and the Mutiny cases in
Trinidad -- without being convinced
that the courts remain, ultimately,
the most effective guardians of the

fundamental rights -- speech,
thought, assembly, and the rest --
theoretically guaranteed by the
constitutional instruments.
New Climate of Opinion
There are, of course, other guard-
ians -- a libertarian public opinion,
for example, or governments tol-
erant of dissent. But it would be a
brave person who would assert that
either of those is conspicuous by
its presence in the Caribbean to-
day. For the truth is that there is a
new climate of opinion in the Carib-
bean that is increasingly hostile to
civil liberties. We hear the argu-
ment that those liberties must yield
to the demands of the 'revolution'
or the tasks of 'nation building.'
The 'state' or that 'nation' must
determine the priorities and the old
liberties are 'luxuries' we cannot
afford. Or, we are told, usually by
half-baked Marxists who do not
really know their Marx, that those
liberties are in any case 'bourgeois'
myths and irrelevant to the nation-
al cause.
There are, quite simply, two an-
swers to all this. First the 'state' or
the 'nation' are not divine entities;
they are, rather, instruments con-
trolled by men and women who all
share human fallibility. There is
no law that guarantees they will
not abuse power. There is, indeed,
historically, no record of any gov-
erning elite that has not abused its
power when the power is not coun -
terbalanced by other centers of in-
fluence and persuasion. The new
black-brown politico-administrative
elites of today's Caribbean are no
exception.
Secondly, far from being bour-
geois myths, the fundamental rights
of free thought and the rest go
back 2000 years to the urban civi-
lizations of the ancient world, both
Eastern and Western, and thus pre-
date by millenia the emergence of
modern bourgeois society. Nor
should we delude ourselves as to
what these freedoms really mean.
Freedom of thought, as Mr. Justice
Holmes put it, is only real if it
means freedom for the ideas that
we hate. The most certain test by
which we judge whether a country
is really free, wrote Lord Acton, is
the amount of security enjoyed by
minorities. To the degree that we
forget those truths we surrender
i selves into the hands of the new
Machiavellis of our time.

"There is no record of any
governing elite that has
not abused its power when
the power is not counter-
balanced by other centers
of influence and
persuasion."

The West Indian
Legal Profession
Judicial review, of course, is only
one of the defense mechanisms of
civil liberties. There are others:
written constitutions, Bills of Rights,
not least of all an informed and
sophisticated public opinion. Nor
is judicial review any stronger than
the quality of the legal profession
that exercises it. One would some-
times wish, Sir Fred himself ac-
knowledges, to see more illustrations
of judicial valour consistent with
some of the pronouncements made
from the Bench.
That is why I would have liked to
have seen him discuss more fully
the character of the West Indian
legal profession, after the fashion
of Dr. Jaime Fuster's recent analy-
sis of the Puerto Rican profession,
Los Abogados de Puerto Rico He
briefly discusses legal training. But
we need to know much more on
social background, curricular con-
tent, the fee system, the relation-
ships between the profession and
the larger power structure, legal in-
come, and so on.
For every one E. V. Luckhoo or
Sir Hugh Wooding there are hun-
dreds of lawyers for whom their
profession is little more than an op-
portunity to get rich on the notorious
litigious habit of the West Indian
people. On this matter -- as, indeed,
on the larger matter of judicial re-
sponsibility and the assumed re-
spect of political leadership for rule
of law generally -- I reluctantly fail
to share Sir Fred's optimism.
The book, in any case, should be
made required reading for all stu-
dents at the UWI Cave Hill Law
School. It should also stimulate re-
forms in perhaps and almost truly
Benthamite fashion. For there are
half-a-dozen fields that cry aloud
for reform in the contemporary
Commonwealth Caribbean: prison
reform, the issue of capital punish-
ment, the corruption of the lower

magistracy (as the recent Trinidad
revelations show), the need for free
legal clinics, the demand for client-
oriented practice, and much else.
There is the problem of terminat-
ing the professional monopoly of
practice; and Lt. Raffique' Shah's
spirited self-defense in the Trinidad
Mutiny Trials shows how the con-
cept of 'every man his own lawyer'
is not an empty one. All through
the Caribbean the man, and woman,
in the street are battered each day
by middle-class professional elitism
and bureaucratic indifference; and
that is why Sir Fred's observations
on what he terms 'the need to in-
volve the populace in constitutional
change' are so important. There,
indeed, it would not hurt us to look
closely at the experience of the
'peoples' courts' of the Cuban Rev-
olution.
Legal studies at the UWI, again,
still remain intractably English-
oriented. We badly need a new his-
torical jurisprudence after the man-
ner of Maitland, and a new socio-
logical jurisprudence after the man-
ner of Mr. Justice Brandeis. We need
far more systematic study of what
constitutional models are appro-
priate to the special Caribbean con-
dition; and in that light one may
consider the sort of confused think-
ing, for example, that led the Trini-
dadian Wooding Commission (whose
main recommendations are reprint-
ed as one of the many useful ap-
pendices of this volume) to recom-
mend an impossible dual executive
of at once an elected President,
American-style, and an elected Prime
Minister, English-style.
It is palpably evident, again, that
once you have a written constitution
the study of law becomes inextri-
cably interwoven with the study of
politics. All this, of course, is for
the future. But the humanist spirit
in which Sir Fred's book is written
strongly suggests that he would be
sympathetic to its suggestions as
the basis for a new West Indian ju-
risprudence.

Gordon Lewis, Professor of Political Science
at UPR, is currently completing 3 books: Free-
dom, Slavery & Imperialism; Main Currents
in Caribbean Thought; and White Metropolis
and Black Diaspora.
Artwork on page 49: Special Meeting of the
Lodge, Seneque Obin, oil on composition
board. Lent by Oscar and Dorothy DeMejo,
Art Gallery Center for Inter-American Relations

CArBBCAN VIEW /51

By Jorge I. Dominguez

The Caribbean Sugar
Industries: Constraints and
Opportunities. G.B. Hagelberg.
Forward by Sidney W. Mintz.
173 pp. Antilles Research Program.
Occasional Paper no. 3, 1974. $7.00
52/CABBfAN reVIEW

At times a book is published which
upsets the most long-held and cher-
ished beliefs which many seemed to
learn with mother's milk. Hagelberg's
book is one of those. He summa-
rizes the conventional wisdom well
in his conclusions: "Sugar was one
of the targets of the export pessi-
mism in vogue during the 1950's

and 1960's. This was the school of
thought which held that the outlook
for exports of primary products was
at best uncertain, that a high pro-
portion of such products in a coun-
try's exports spelled colonial de-
pendency, instability and unfavor-
able terms of trade, and that eco-
nomic development and indepen-
dence could only be achieved by
industrialization outside of agricul-
ture. In the case of sugar, this ex-
port pessimism rested on the belief
that supply tended chronically to
outstrip demand and that if a new
market should unexpectedly appear,
the capacity existed to meet it."
Well, it isn't necessarily so.
The world price of sugar (actually,
the price in the residual world mar-
ket, exclusive of commodity agree-
ments on a bilateral or regional
basis) rose steadily every year after
1968. It hit a high in the New York
market in late November, 1974,
and has fallen since. Even at the
lower current prices, there has been
a five-fold increase from the 1968
level. The conventional wisdom
would have expected an increase in
production to meet the increased
demand and higher prices. Hagel-
berg shows that, with the exception
of the Dominican Republic, the
Caribbean failed to rise to the chal-
lenge. Hagelberg's data, to be sure,
only goes through 1972. Even so,
the world price in the residual world
market had risen 3.8 times its 1968
level by 1972, and had registered a
four-fold increase from the 1966
level. In sum, except for the Domi-
nican Republic, it can be argued
fairly conclusively that there is more
of a supply bottleneck than of a de-
mand bottleneck, and that an im-
portant prop of the conventional
wisdom has fallen apart.
Another twist of fate has also
been cruel to the old conventional
wisdom. Most Caribbean islands are
not rich in conventional energy re-
sources. Yet sugar cane provides
the fuel with which to make its prod-
ucts available. It is an inherent sub-
stitute for high priced oil imports.
Hagelberg's book, however, does
not merely take advantage of
changed international events to
make debating points, although he
finds it irresistible to make some.
The book is a detailed study of sup-
ply economics as applied to sugar.
An invaluable contribution, admit-
tedly not for the general reader, is

the second chapter, which reviews
the statistical record of sugar cane
and all its products, and shows in-
consistencies, flaws and, best of all,
how to read it.

Sugar is not the chief
product of Caribbean
countries, it is sugar cane.

The book also reminds us that
sugar is not the chief product of so
many Caribbean countries. It is
sugar cane. Sugar cane produces
not only sugar and energy for pro-
duction, but also rum, ethyl alcohol,
yeast, cattle feed, and bagasse (for
paper and fuel). There are serious
problems of production for many
of these derivatives, but it is plain
that sugar cane can have many for-
ward linkages to facilitate broad
scale industrial development. Hagel-
berg also carefully examines the
issue of the Caribbean's compara-
tive advantage. He concludes that
the area may still have such an ad-
vantage in comparison to plausible
alternative places for its production.
Finally, the author examines in
considerable detail trends in costs
of production, factor use and pro-
ductivity.
Hagelberg's book does not, how-
ever, do everything. Sociological
and political analyses remain in the
background. He does discuss very
critically the concept of the "planta-
tion" as it appears in the literature,
and finds it wanting. He also dis-
cusses income and employment ef-
fects of the sugar industry and,
characteristically, concludes that
"the pattern of employment and in-
come effects traced by sugar in the
Caribbean economies is one of
complex movements that defy com-
pression into a neat 'good or bad'
judgement." But there are no com-
munity studies here, no studies of
social structure as such. It would
be interesting to use such studies
to illuminate the problem of the dif-
ficulty of increasing sugar produc-
tion in the Caribbean; to consider
whether the rises of the world price
of sugar have affected living stan-
dards, and, if so, how and how equal-
ly or unequally.
The politics of sugar production
also become more interesting. The
Caribbean has had a politically
compartmentalized pattern of sugar

exports for a long time. Bilateral
agreements, and regional agree-
ments in the Commonwealth, have
been the norm. The entry of the
United Kingdom into the European
Economic Community and changes
in United States legislation on sugar,
have altered the international poli-
tical climate for the crop, permitting
for the first time an international
political diversification for the Carib-
bean countries. If they fail to diver-
sify politically, analogous to the sit-
uation in economics, then the fault
will no longer lie in our stars but in
ourselves, or more prosaically, in
the internal politics of foreign pol-
icies. Local politicians now are
faced not with berating imperialist
agents but with urging greater pro-
duction, greater efficiency and -- as
in Cuba, where citizens have at
times been asked to sacrifice a part
of their sugar ration for exports --
greater burdens on individuals. The
transition will not be easy in some
countries, just as it has not been
easy in those that have already
begun it.
Caribbean countries will also be
faced with new problems of political
cooperation. Governments and
private producers, managers and
workers, will probably need to co-
operate more effectively if they are
to be efficient producers under pre-
vailing world prices. International-
ly, countries that have despised
each other (say, Cuba and the Do-
minican Republic) will need to co-
operate more to prevent further
drops of the price of sugar. What is
done to implement the new Interna-
tional Sugar Agreement signed in
the fall of 1977 will be the first
practical test of cooperation.
The world of sugar has changed
faster outside the Caribbean than
in the Caribbean. G. B. Hagelberg's
book is a very useful, scholarly con-
tribution which may well be indis-
pensable to understand the eco-
nomics of the sugar industry. But its
message is larger. An important
part of the problem is the "mental
set" of government officials, intel-
lectuals and private producers, who
have been slow to recognize that
the conventional wisdom is conven-
tionally unwise.

Jorge I. Dominguez is with the Center for Inter-
nationalAffairs at Harvard University.

Man-making

words:

Selected Poems of

Nicolas Guill n
Translated and edited
by Robert Marquez
and David McMurray

"The poetry is topical, political
and revolutionary and the mes-
sage is so strident that it over-
powers the inherent sense of
poetry"-The Miami Herald.

"Appropriate reading for any
student of Afro-American or
Latin-American concerns. Left-
ists will extol the book and right-
ists probably loathe it"-Choice.

"This anthology is a valuable
addition to the popularisation in
English of some of the best Latin
American literature and a worthy
offering to Nicolas Guillen on
his 70th birthday"
-Caribbean Studies.

218 pages, cloth, $10.00;
paper, $4.50

Amherst, Massachusetts 01002
University of Massacuhsetts Press

CATRBBEAN TFCVClW /53

i O

By Marian Goslinga

Anthropology and Sociology

LES ANTILLES AUJOURD'HUI.
International Learning System, 1977.
$15.50.

"ARISE YE STARVELINGS" THE
JAMAICAN LABOR REBELLION OF 1938
AND ITS AFTERMATH. Kenneth William
John Post. Millwood, 1977. $22.00.

EL ARRABAL Y LA POLITICAL. Rafael L.
Ramirez. Translated from the English by
Margarita Lopez-Chielana. University of
Puerto Rico Press, 1977. 175 pp.
Translation of Politics and the Urban Poor;
an account of conditions in Puerto Rico.

BILINGUAL SCHOOL FOR A BICULTURAL
COMMUNITY: MIAMI'S ADAPTATION TO
THE CUBAN REFUGEES. William F.
Mackey and Von N. Beebe. Newbury House,
1977. 223 pp. $10.95.

THE CARIBBEAN FAMILY: LEGITIMACY
IN MARTINIQUE. Mariam Slater.
St. Martin's Press, 1977. 264 pp. $12.95.

THE CHICANO WORKER. Vernon M.
Briggs, Walter Fogel and Fred H. Schmidt.
University of Texas Press, 1977. 129 pp.
$9.50. Drawing from 1970 census data, the
authors offer an analysis of the current status
of the Chicano labor force in five
southwestern states.

THE CHILDREN OF CHE: CHILDCARE
AND EDUCATION IN CUBA. Karen Wald.
Ramparts, 1977. $14.00.

COLOR, CLASS AND POLITICS IN
JAMAICA. Aggray Brown. Transaction
Books, 1977. ca. 250 pp. $14.95. A study
of Jamaica's political development in the
context of class struggle, racism, and
ethnocentrism.

CONTINUITY IN MESOAMERICA. Edited
by David L. Browman. Aldine, 1977. $24.50.

CUBAN COMMUNISM. Edited by Irving
Louis Horowitz. 3rd ed. Transaction Books,
1977. 576 pp. $8.95. Several contrasting
points of view are presented.

CUBAN MEDICINE. Roswell S. Danielson.
Foreword by Eliot Freidson. Transaction
Books, 1978. ca. 275 pp. $14.95. An
account of health services in contemporary
Cuba.

"DEAR COMRADE, 1 USED TO BE
ILLITERATE..." THE LITERACY CAMPAIGN
IN CUBA. John Griffiths. Writers and
Readers Publishing Cooperative
(London), 1977.

ECOLOGY AND THE ARTS IN ANCIENT
PANAMA: ON THE DEVELOPMENT OF
SOCIAL RANK AND SYMBOLISM IN THE
CENTRAL PROVINCES. Olga F. Linares.
Trustees for Harvard University, 1977.
86 pp.

EDUCATION Y REVOLUTION. Fidel Castro.
3rd ed. Editorial Nuestro Tiempo, 1977.
165 pp. $2.65.

THE EDUCATION SYSTEM OF
REVOLUTIONARY CUBA. John Griffiths.
Writers and Readers Publishing Cooperative
(London), 1977.

ENSAYOS SOBRE HISTORIC DE LA
POBLACION: MEXICO Y EL CARIBE.
Sherbourne F. Cook and Woodrow Borah.
Siglo XXI Editores, 1977. $12.00. A Spanish
translation of a well-known work first
published in English.

ETHNIC POLITICAL LEADERSHIP:
THE CASE OF PUERTO RICANS. George
E. Martin. R&E Associates, 1977. 148 pp.
$12.00. An account of Puerto Ricans in
New York City.

EL FENOMENO DE LA POSESION EN LA
RELIGION VUDU; UN STUDIO SOBRE
LA POSESION POR LOS ESPIRITUS Y SU
RELACION CON EL RITUAL EN EL VUDU.
N6lida Agosto de Mufoz. Institute de
Estudios del Caribe, Universidad de Puerto
Rico, 1977. 119 pp. $5.00. A study of
voodooism and spirit possession in Haiti.

FOUR MEN LIVING THE REVOLUTION:
AN ORAL HISTORY OF CONTEMPORARY
CUBA. Oscar Lewis, Ruth Lewis, Susan M.
Rigdon. University of Illinois Press, 1977.
650 pp. $15.00. A comprehensive picture,
from extended interviews, of how urban
slum dwellers have fared under the
revolutionary government.

FOUR WOMEN LIVING THE REVOLUTION:
AN ORAL HISTORY OF CONTEMPORARY
CUBA. Oscar Lewis, Ruth M. Lewis, Susan
M. Rigdon. University of Illinois Press,
1977. 443 pp. $15.00. The stories of four
women (an ex-nun, a psychologist, a
domestic worker, a former prostitute)
illustrate the changing status, attitudes and
roles of women under the revolutionary
government.

THE MAYA AND THEIR NEIGHBORS:
ESSAYS ON MIDDLE AMERICAN
ANTHROPOLOGY AND ARCHAEOLOGY.
Edited by Clarence L. Hay. Dover, 1977.
606 pp. $7.50.

THE MAYA OF GUATEMALA: THEIR LIFE
AND DRESS. Carmen L. Patterson.
University of Washington Press, 1977.
274 pp. $39.95.

LA OTRA CARA DE MEXICO: EL PUEBLO
CHICANO. David Maciel, ed. Ediciones
El Caballito (M6xico), 1977. 369 pp. $7.30.

PEASANT POLITICS: STRUGGLE IN A
DOMINICAN VILLAGE. Kenneth Evan
Sharpe. Johns Hopkins, 1977. 272 pp.
$15.00. Study of the Dominican peasantry.

THE PEOPLE OF PANAMA. John B.
Biesanz and Mavis H. Biesanz. Greenwood
Press, 1977. 418 pp. $25.75. Reprint of the
1955 edition.

POPULATION OF JAMAICA. George W.
Roberts. Russell, 1977. 356 pp. $20.00.
Reprint of the 1957 edition.

PUERTO RICAN POLITICS IN NEW YORK
CITY. James Jennings. University Press of
America, 1977. 275 pp. $9.45.

PUERTO RICANS IN THE UNITED

STATES: THE STRUGGLE FOR
FREEDOM. Catarino Garza, ed. Path Press,
1977. 63 pp. $6.00 cloth; $1.25 paper.

THE RASTAFARIANS; SOUNDS OF
CULTURAL DISSONANCE. Leonard E.
Barrett. Beacon Press, 1977. $3.95 paper.
History of the Rastafari movement in
Jamaica.

THE "RED LEGS" OF BARBADOS. Jill
Sheppard. New ed. Forward by Sir Philip
Sherlock. KTO Press, 1977. 147 pp.
$12.00. Study of the poor whites of
Barbados.

LES REVOLTES BLANCHES A SAINT-
DOMINGUE AU XVIIe ET XVIIle SIECLES.
Charles Frostin. L'Ecole (France), 1975.
407 pp. $10.00.

RX: SPIRITIST AS NEEDED, A STUDY OF
A PUERTO RICAN COMMUNITY MENTAL
HEALTH RESOURCE. Alan Harwood.
Wiley, 1977. 251 pp. $18.95.

SEARCHING FOR THE INVISIBLE MAN:
SLAVES AND PLANTATION LIFE IN
JAMAICA. Michael M. Craton. Harvard
University Press, 1977.

SOCIAL AND POLITICAL FORCES IN
DEPENDENT AREAS OF THE CARIBBEAN,
A SECRET REPORT, 1944. Paul Blanshard
and Henry Field. Edited and with
introductions by Robert A. Hill and Gordon
K. Lewis, and a preface by Paul Blanshard.
KTO Press, 1977. $30.00. Reprint with
microfiche appendices, of a report by an
intelligence officer of the American Section
of the Anglo-American Caribbean
Commission to the Department of State in
Washington.

THIRD WORLD MASS MEDIA AND THEIR
SEARCH FOR MODERNITY: THE CASE
OF THE COMMONWEALTH CARIBBEAN,
1717-1976. John A. Lent. Bucknell
University Press, 1977. $22.50.

THE TUMBLEWEEDS: SOMERSAULTING
UP AND OUT OF THE CITY STREETS.
Fredrick Johnson. Harper and Row, 1977.
246 pp. $10.00. An account of Puerto
Ricans in New York City.

A WELFARE MOTHER. Susan Sheehan.
New American Library, 1977. 144 pp.
$1.50 paper. A story of a Puerto Rican
mother in New York City.

WOMEN IN JAMAICA: PATTERNS OF
REPRODUCTION AND FAMILY. George
W. Roberts and Sonja A. Sinclair. KTO
Press, 1977. $13.50.

WORKERS STRUGGLES IN PUERTO RICO.
Edited by Angel Quintero Rivera. Monthly
Review, 1977. 240 pp. $11.95. A collection
of documents, with detailed bibliography,
about Puerto Rican labor history from
early 1900's.

Biography
ALEJO CARPENTER: THE PILGRIM AT
HOME. Roberto Gonzalez Echevarria.
Cornell University Press, 1977. 304 pp.
$13.50. Study of one of Cuba's most
distinguished novelists.

BOLIVAR. Donald E. Worcester. Little,
1977. 243 pp. $8.95.

CUDJOE OF JAMAICA: PIONEER OF
BLACK FREEDOM IN THE NEW WORLD.
Milton C. McFarlane, R. Enslow, 1977.
$6.95. Biography of a Maroon.

GAITAN OF COLOMBIA: A POLITICAL
BIOGRAPHY. Richard Sharpless. University
of Pittsburgh Press, 1977. $13.95.

LOUIS JOSEPH JANVIER PAR LUI-MEME:
LE PATRIOTE ET LE CHAMPION DE LA
NEGRITUDE. Pradel Pompilus. Imp. des
Antilles(Haiti), 1976.97 pp. Biography of
a 19th century Haitian patriot.

Description and Travel

THE AMERICAN MEDITERRANEAN.
Stephen Bonsai. Gordon Press, 1977. ca.
488 pp. $69.95. Reprint of the 1912 edition.

THE BAHAMA ISLANDS. Hans W. Hannau.
Argos, 1977. 125 pp. $12.95.

THE BAHAMAS. F. C. Evans and R. N.
Young. Cambridge University Press, 1977.
$2.50.

CARIBBEAN, BAHAMAS AND BERMUDA
1978. Edited by Eugene Fodor. McKay,
1978. 633 pp. $12.95 cloth; $9.95 paper.

THE CARIBBEAN ISLANDS. Helmut
Blume. Translated from German by
J. Maczewski and A. V. Norton. Longman,
1977. $11.50. Translation of Die
Westindischen Inseln.

THE CAYMAN ISLANDS IN FULL COLOR.
Hans W. Hannau. Hastings, 1977. 64 pp.
$3.75.

EXXON TRAVEL GUIDE TO THE
CARIBBEAN 1977. S&S, 1978. $3.95
paper.

FIELDING'S GUIDE TO THE CARIBBEAN
PLUS THE BAHAMAS, 1978. Fielding,
1977. $3.95.

GEOVISION DE PUERTO RICO:
APORTACIONES RECIENTES AL STUDIO
DE LA GEOGRAFIA. Maria T. B. de
Galinanes, ed. University of Puerto Rico
Press, 1977.

THE INN WAY... CARIBBEAN. Margaret
Zellers. Berkshire Traveller, 1977. $4.95
paper. A directory of hotels in the
Caribbean.

JAMAICA: BABYLON ON A THIN WIRE.
Adrian Boot and Michael Thomas.
Schocken Books, 1977. 93 pp. $6.95.

A STORY OF TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE
IN THE FORESTS OF VENEZUELA. Frank
Redcliffe. Scholarly Press, 1977. $45.00.

ROLLOT BENY INTERPRETS IN
PHOTOGRAPHS "PLEASURE OF RUINS"
BY ROSE MACAULAY. Texts selected
and edited by Constance Babington Smith.
Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1977. $20.00.
About Central America.

TWO YEARS IN THE FRENCH WEST
INDIES. Lafcadio Hearn. Irvington, 1977.
431 pp. $17.50. Reprint of the 1890 edition.

2X KUBA. Olle Linsberg. Bokhuset Corfitz
(Sweden), 1975. 239 pp. Impressions of a
Swedish author on two successive visits to
Cuba.

Economics

CARIBBEAN ISSUES RELATED TO
UNCTAD IV. Mona, Jamaica, Institute of
Social and Economic Research, University
of the West Indies, n.d. 209 pp. $3.80.
Papers presented at a seminar at UWI,
Mona, Feb. 5-7, 1966.

CUBAN SUGAR POLICY FROM 1963 to
1970. Heinrich Brunner. Translated by
Marguerite Borchard and H. F. Broch de
Rothermann. University of Pittsburgh Press,
1977. 164 pp. $9.95. A technical study,
asserting that in Cuba, sugar policy is
tantamount to national development policy.

DEVELOPMENT IN RURAL COSTA RICA.
Interbook Inc., 1977. $4.50.

ECONOCIDE: BRITISH SLAVERY IN THE
ERA OF ABOLITION. Seymour Drescher.
University of Pittsburgh Press, 279 pp.
$14.95. A treatise on slavery in the British
West Indies.

LA ECONOMIC VENEZOLANA: UNA
INTERPRETATION DE SU MODO DE
FUNCIONAMIENTO. Sergio Aranda. Ed.
Siglo XXI, 1977. 292 pp. $8.00.

ESSAYS ON CARIBBEAN INTEGRATION
AND DEVELOPMENT. William G. Demas.
University of the West Indies, 1976. 159 pp.
$8.25.

THE NATIONALIZATION OF
VENEZUELAN OIL. James F. Petras, Morris
Morley and Steven Smith. Praeger, 1977.
173 pp. $16.50. Discussion of the 1976
nationalization and its relation to foreign
investment opportunities in other sectors.

CAQRBBEAN KVIew /55

PLANNING FOR NATIONAL
DEVELOPMENT. Wildred L. David.
University of the West Indies, 1976. $2.50.
The Guyana experience provides the
framework for this comprehensive account.

PLANNING AND BUDGETING FOR
DEVELOPMENT: CARIBBEAN EXAMPLES
Jerome B. McKinney and Michael Puichia.
Sage, 1977.

REPORT ON THE SEMINAR FOR
SELECTED COUNTRIES IN THE
CARIBBEAN AREA ON CREDIT FOR
SMALL FARMERS. Food and Agricultural
Organization of the United Nations, 1977.
58 pp. $4.50.

TURISTICOLOGIA: TURISMO FENOMENO
SOCIAL; TURISMO CIENCIA SOCIAL.
Jos& Julio Santa-Pinter. University of
Puerto Rico Press, 1977. Focuses on the
tourist trade in Puerto Rico.

VENEZUELAN ECONOMIC
DEVELOPMENT: A POLITICO-ECONOMIC
ANALYSIS. Loring Allen. Jai Press, 1977.
310 pp. $23.50.

History and Archaeology

ANTHROPOLOGY AND HISTORY IN
YUCATAN. Edited by Grant D. Jones.
University of Texas Press, 1977. 344 pp.
$16.95.

ARCHEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL
INVESTIGATIONS IN SAMANA,
DOMINICAN REPUBLIC. Herbert William
Krieger. AMS Press, 1977. ca. 90 pp.
$13.50. Reprint of the 1929 ed.

BEYOND THE FIVE FRONTIERS: PANAMA
1821-1903. Alex Perez-Venero. AMS Press,
1977. $16.95.

THE BRITISH CARIBBEAN: FROM THE
DECLINE OF COLONIALISM TO THE END
OF THE FEDERATION. Elisabeth Wallace.
University of Toronto Press, 1977. 274 pp.
$17.50. This study focuses on 20th century
political development in the 12 former
British colonies in the Caribbean.

THE COLTHURST JOURNAL. Edited by
Woodville K. Marshall. New ed. KTO Press,
1977. $12.50 cloth; $6.00 paper. Personal
account of the post-emancipation
apprenticeship system in Barbados and
St. Vincent during 1835-1838.

COLOMBIA AND VENEZUELA. John A.
Peeler. Sage, 1977. $3.00.

56/ CAlPBBEAN IVICVW

THE CUBAN REVOLUTION. Hugh Thomas.
Harper and Row, 1977. 755 pp. $9.95.

1493 AND ALL THAT; SOME PROBLEMS
OF DOING HISTORICAL RESEARCH IN
THE WEST INDIES. Aye-Aye Press
(St. Croix), 1976.

GUARDIANS OF THE DYNASTY:
A HISTORY OF THE U.S. CREATED
GUARDIA NATIONAL DE NICARAGUA
AND THE SOMOZA FAMILY. Richard Millet.
Orbis Books, 1977. 284 pp. $6.95.

GUATEMALA. Erna Ferggusson. Gordon
Press, 1977. ca. 300 pp. $34.95. Reprint
of the 1937 ed.

GUNBOAT DIPLOMACY, 1895-1905,
GREAT POWER PRESSURES IN
VENEZUELA. Miriam Hood. A.S. Barnes,
1977. 202 pp. $8.95. An account of the
Anglo-German blockade in 1902.

HISTORIC DE LA ISLA DE CUBA. Carlos
Marquez Sterling y Manuel Marquez
Sterling. Regents Pub. Co., 1978. ca.
400 pp. $6.95. A lively, extensively
illustrated history of Cuba from pre-
Columbian times to the present day in
simple Spanish.

HISTORY, ART, ARCHITECTURE,
URBANIZATION AND SUNDRY MATTERS
OF THE FORMER REINO DE
GUATEMALA: COLONIAL CENTRAL
AMERICA. Sidney David Markman. Arizona
State University, 1977. $15.00.

IS THE PANAMA CANAL STILL
ESSENTIAL TO THE DEFENSE OF THE
UNITED STATES AND THE SAFETY OF
THE FREE WORLD. Alfred Thayer Mahaw.
Inst. Econ. Pol., 1977. $31.50.
A reprint.

THE MUSHROOM STONES OF
MESOAMERICA. Karl H. Mayer. Acoma
Books, 1977. $4.95 paper.
MYSTERY CITIES: EXPLORATION AND
ADVENTURE IN LABAANTUN. AMS Press,
1977. ca. 250 pp. $20.00. An account of
an ancient city in British Honduras.

NICARAGUA. Ephraim George Squier.
Gordon Press, 1977. ca. 700 pp. $95.00.
Reprint of the 1852 ed.

NOTES ON CENTRAL AMERICA. Ephraim
George Squier. Gordon Press, 1977. ca.
397 pp. $95.00. Reprint of the 1855 ed.

THE PATH BETWEEN THE SEAS: THE
CREATION OF THE PANAMA CANAL,
1870-1914. David G. McCullough. Simon
and Schuster, 1977. 698 pp. $12.50. A
comprehensive history of the canal project.

THE PEOPLE AND THE KING: THE
COMUNERO REVOLUTION IN COLOMBIA,
1781. John Leddy Phelan. University of
Wisconsin Press, 1977. $25.00.

PRE-COLOMBIAN MAN IN COSTA RICA.
Doris Stone. Peabody Museum Press,
1977. $15.00 paper.

RIDING AND ROPING: THE MEMOIRS OF
J. WILL HARRIS. Edited by C. Virginia

Matters. Inter-American University Press,
1977. $20.00 cloth; $6.00 paper. J. Will
Harris was a resident of Puerto Rico.

THE SELECTED LETTERS OF EDWARD
WILMOT BLYDEN, 1832-1913. Hollis R.
Lynch, ed. KTO Press, 1977. $16.00. The
letters of a West Indian clergyman
(St. Thomas) who became a vital figure in
the Pan-African movement.

THE SPANISH CARIBBEAN: FROM
COLUMBUS TO CASTRO. Louise Cripps.
Schenkman, 1978. $12.50 cloth; $5.95
paper.

THE SPANISH CARIBBEAN: TRADE AND
PLUNDER, 1530-1630. Kenneth R.
Andrews. Yale University Press, 1978.
$17.50.

Language and Literature

AUDE DE SES FANTOMES, ROMAN.
Adeline Moravia. Editions Caraibes (Haiti),
1977. 245 pp. $8.00.

A BOOK OF BAHAMIAN VERSE. Jack
Culmer, ed. Gordon Press, 1977. $34.95.

CARIBBEAN ECHOES. J. P. Gimenez.
Gordon Press, 1977. $34.95.

CINCUENTA ANOS DE LITERATURE
VENEZOLANA, 1918-1968. Monte Avila
(Venezuela), 1977. 319 pp. First published
1969.

CINQ MINUTES D'ESCOLE; NOUVELLES.
Michel-Georges Lescouflair. Editions
Caraibes (Haiti), 1977. 45 pp. $2.60.

CRITICS ON CARIBBEAN LITERATURE:
READINGS IN LITERARY CRITICISM.
Edward Baugh,ed.St. Martin's,1977.$13.95.

EN TIEMPOS DIFICILES: LA POESIA
CUBANA DE LA REVOLUTION. John
Michael Cohen. Translated by Isabel
Vericat. Tusquets (Spain), 1977. 80 pp.
$3.25.

GLIMPSE: TWENTY-ONE ILLUSTRATED
POEMS. Gilda Thebaud Nassief. Caribbean
Graphics Production (Barbados), 1977.

HISTOIRE DE LA LITERATURE
HAITIENNE, ILLUSTREE PAR LES
TEXTES. Raphael Berrou, Pradel Pompilus.
Editions Caraibes (Haiti), 1975. Vol. 1,
$19.80; Vol. II, $9.80; Vol. 111,$12.00.

LITERATURE Y ARTE NUEVO EN CUBA.
Mario Benedetti et al. 2nd ed. Editorial
Laia (Spain), 1977. 287 pp. $6.25.

MUSA BILINGUE. Francisco Javier Amy,
ed. Gordon Press, 1977. 329 pp. $34.95.
Reprint of the 1903 ed. A collection of
translations from Anglo-American poets
into Spanish and from Spanish, Cuban and
Puerto Rican poets into English.

NARRADORES VENEZOLANOS DE LA
NUEVA GENERATION. Armando Navarro.
Monte Avila (Venezuela), 1977. 175 pp.
$7.00. First published 1970.

NOVELS OF THE CARIBBEAN. R. Gordon,
ed. Gordon Press, 1977. 20 Vols. $634.95.

NUESTRA AVENTURA LITERARIA:
LOS ISMOS EN LA POESIA
PUERTORRIQUEIA, 1913-1940. Luis
Hernandez Aguino. University of Puerto
Rico, 1977. ca. 200 pp. $5.95. First
published in 1964.

NUEVA LITERATURE CUBANA. Julio E.
Miranda. Taurus, 1977. 141 pp. $2.95.
Reprint of the 1971 ed.

THE PADILLA CASE: HEBERTO
PADILLA'S SELF-CRITICISM TO THE
CUBAN ARTISTS AND WRITERS UNION.
Translated by Scott Johnson. Gordon
Press, 1977. $34.95. A Cuban poet's self-
criticism.

POESIA AFROANTILLANA Y NEGRISTA:
PUERTO RICO, REPUBLICAN DOMINICANA,
CUBA. Jorge Luis Morales, ed. University
of Puerto Rico Press, 1976. 269 pp. $5.00.

THE POETS OF HAITI. Edna W.
Underwood, ed. Gordon Press, 1977.
159 pp. $34.95. Reprint of the 1934 ed.

POPOL VUH: THE SACRED BOOK OF
THE ANCIENT QUICHE. Spanish version
of the original Maya. Translated by Adrian
Recinos and Delia Goetz. University of
Oklahoma Press, 1977. 251 pp. $6.95.
Reprint of the 1950 ed.

A TREASURY OF JAMAICAN POETRY.
John E. McFarlane, ed. Gordon Press,
1977. $34.95.

VOICES FROM SUMMERLAND:
AN ANTHOLOGY OF JAMAICAN
POETRY. John E. McFarlane, ed. Gordon
Press, 1977. $38.00.

Politics and Government

THE CARIBBEAN, THE GENESIS OF A
FRAGMENTED NATIONALISM. Franklin
W. Knight. Oxford University Press, 1978.
251 pp. $12.50 cloth; $4.00 paper.

CASTRO'S CUBA IN THE 1970's. Lester
A. Sobel, editor. Facts on File, 1977.
$11.95.

CONTEMPORARY VENEZUELA AND ITS
ROLE IN INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS.
Robert D. Bond, ed. New York University
Press, 1977. $15.00; $6.95 paper.

CURACAO AND GUZMAN BLANCO:
A CASE STUDY OF SMALL POWER IN
THE CARIBBEAN. Cornelis Ch. Goslinga.
M. Nijhoff, 1975. 145 pp. 1.25.

EXCERPTS FROM THE SPEECHES AND
WRITINGS OF MICHAEL MANLEY. Edited
with notes and an introduction by John
Hearne. Canada, 1976.

FREEDOM IN THE CARIBBEAN: A STUDY
IN CONSTITUTIONAL CHANGE. Fred
Phillips. Oceana Publications, 1977.
737 pp. $40.00. A study of economic
integration and constitutional law in the
Caribbean.

FROM COLONIALISM TO COOPERATIVE
REPUBLIC: ASPECTS OF POLITICAL
DEVELOPMENT IN GUYANA. Harold A.
Lutchman. Institute of Caribbean Studies,
University of Puerto Rico, n.d. $8.00.Traces
politico-constitutional development of
Guyana from colonial period through
organization as the world's first cooperative
republic in 1970.

MINI-NATIONS AND MACRO-
COOPERATION: THE CARIBBEAN AND
THE SOUTH PACIFIC. Herbert Corkraw.
North American Intl., 1977. $10.00. A
treatise on foreign relations in the
Caribbean.

NOT FOR SALE. Michael Manley. Ed.
Consult, 1977. $1.50. An account of the
political situation on Jamaica.

THE PANAMA CANAL AND SEA POWER
IN THE PACIFIC: AN ORIGINAL STUDY
IN NAVAL STRATEGY. Alfred Thayer
Mahan. American Classical College Press,
1977. 43 leaves. $24.50. A reprint.

POLSKA KUBA, GOSPODARKA
WSPOTPRACA. (POLAND-CUBA
ECONOMY AND COOPERATION). Ewa
Legomska-Dworniak. Panstwowe
Wydawnictwo Ekonomiczne (Poland), 1975.
280 pp. Zt25.00. A study of Cuba's
socioeconomic development before and
after the revolution and its importance to
Polish-Cuban relations.

PUERTO RICO: COLONIALISMO Y
REVOLUCION. Gordon K. Lewis. Editorial
Eva (Mexico). 298 pp. $2.75 paperback.
Translation of Notes on the Puerto Rican
Revolution.

SALVADOR OF THE TWENTIETH
CENTURY. Percy F. Martin. Gordon Press,
1977. ca. 328 pp. $34.95. Reprint of the
1911 ed.

LOS SOBRINOS DEL TIO SAM. Carlos
Rivero Collado. Ed. de Ciencias Sociales
(Cuba), 1977. 403 pp. $3.00. An account
of subversive activities in contemporary
Cuba.

L'USSR ET LA REVOLUTION CUBAINE.
Jacques Levesque. Presses de la Fondation
National des Sciences Politiques (Canada),
1976. 222 pp. 75.00F. A survey of Soviet-
Cuban relations based partly on Russian
language sources.

THE UNITED STATES AND CUBA:
HEGEMONY AND DEPENDENT
DEVELOPMENT, 1880-1934. Jules R.
Benjamin. University of Pittsburgh Press,
1977. 266 pp. $14.95.

VENEZUELA: THE DEMOCRATIC
EXPERIENCE. John D. Martz and David
J. Myers, eds. Praeger, 1977. 406 pp.
$22.50 cloth; $8.95 paper. A collection of
scholarly essays on various aspects of
Venezuelan politics.

VIOLENCE AND POLITICS IN JAMAICA,
1960-1970. Terence J. Lacey. Cass, 1977.
184 pp. $22.50.

Reference

BIBLIOGRAFIA PUERTO-RIQUENA.
Manuel M. Sama. Gordon Press, 1977.
$34.95.

THE CARIBBEAN YEARBOOK. 1977/78
Ed.Caribook (Canada), 1978. 940 pp.
Formerly the West Indies and Caribbean
Yearbook, this 48th ed. is published under
the direction of R.V. Birtwhistle.

COLONIAL CENTRAL AMERICA:
A BIBLIOGRAPHY. Sidney David Markman,
ed. Arizona State University, 1977. $15.00.

THE COMPLETE CARIBBEANA, 1900-
1975; A BIBLIOGRAPHIC GUIDE TO THE
SCHOLARLY LITERATURE. KTO Press,
1977. 3 vols. $170.00.

CArBBETAN eVIEW /57

EDUCATION IN THE VIRGIN ISLANDS:
AN ALMANAC OF FACTS, FIGURES, A
DIRECTORY OF PERSONNEL, AND A
SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY. Robert V.
Vaugh. Aye-Aye Press (St. Croix), 1976-
1977. Vol. 1 Public schools, Vol. 2 Non-
public schools.
ENCYCLOPAEDIE VAN NEDERLANDSCH
WEST INDIE. Herman D. Benjamins.
Gordon Press, 1976. $150.00.
GUIA DE INVESTIGADORES DE
HONDURAS. Institute Panamericano de
Geografia e Historia, 1977. 46 pp. $5.50.
GUIA DE RECURSOS BASICS
CONTEMPORANEOS PARA STUDIOS
DE DESARROLLO EN NICARAGUA.
Institute Panamericano de Geografia e
Historia, 1977. 86 pp. $5.50.
HISTORICAL DICTIONARY OF
COLOMBIA. Robert H. Davis, ed. Scarecrow
Press, 1977. 280 pp. $11.00.
HISTORICAL DICTIONARY OF HAITI.
Roland 1. Perusse. Scarecrow Press, 1977.
124 pp. $6.00.
INDEX TO ANTHOLOGIES OF LATIN
AMERICAN LITERATURE IN ENGLISH
TRANSLATION. Juan R. Freudenthal and
Patricia M. Freudenthal, eds. G.K. Hall,
1977. 199 pp. $15.00.
INDICE DE EL PENSAMIENTO: CUBA,
1879-1880. Elio Alta-Buttill and Francisco
E. Feito. Senda Nueva, 1977. $3.95.
THE JAMAICAN NATIONAL
BIBLIOGRAPHY, 1964-1974. KTO Press,
1977. Consists of the catalog cards for
the complete holdings of 3 major Jamaican
libraries.
A STUDY OF THE HISTORIGRAPHY OF
THE BRITISH WEST INDIES TO THE END
OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Elsa V.
Goveia. Howard University Press, 1978.
177 pp. $8.95. Reprint of the 1956 ed.
VENEZUELAN HISTORY:
A COMPREHENSIVE WORKING
BIBLIOGRAPHY. John V. Lombardi,
German Carrera Damas, Roberta E. Adams.
G.K. Hall, 1977. 530 pp. $20.00.

Marian Goslinga is International, Environmental
and Urban Affairs Librarian at Florida Inter-
national University.

CAIBBCAN

PEvIEW

Florida International University
Tamiami Trail Miami, Florida 33199

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Articles and Reviews
By Title

AN AFFAIR WITH
PUERTO RICO. Kal
Wagenheim. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 11.
ALONE IN PUERTO RICO.
Edwin Emerson, Jr. Volume
5, Number 3, Page 18.
AN ANATOMY OF CARIBBEAN
VANITY. Gordon Lewis.
Volume 3, Number 1, Page 2.
THE ANGUILLA IMBROGLIO:
AS SEEN FROM LONDON.
Gordon Lewis. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 2.
APUMAROU, THE POTTER.
Abraham Valdelomer.
Volume 2, Number 2,
Page 13.

BAHAMAS WATCHING. Aaron
Segal. Volume 6, Number 3,
Page 40.
BLACK CARIB HOUSEHOLDS.
Angelina Pollak-Eltz.
Volume 2, Number 3, Page 6.
BLACK POWER AND DOCTOR
POLITICS. Lloyd Best.
Volume 2, Number 2, Page 5.
BLACK POWER IN TRINIDAD.
Basil Ince. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 10.
BOOTSTRAP BABIES. Barry B.
Levine. Volume 1, Number 1,
Page 6.
BORGES: INTO THE
MAINSTREAM VIA THE
BACKDOOR. J. Raban Bilder.
Volume 4, Number 4, Page 18.
BREAD AND ROSES. Mela
Pons de Alegria. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 13.
BREAD VS. SOUL. Barry B.
Levine. Volume 2, Number 4,
Page 11.

CABALLERO SOLO. Pablo
Neruda. Volume 1, Number2,
Page 3.
CAMILO: REBEL PRIEST.
Rafael Garzaro. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 11.
THE CARIBBEAN
COMMISSIONS. Basil A.
Ince. Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 36.
CARIBBEAN ECONOMIC
HISTORY. Thomas Mathews.
Volume 3, Number 1, Page 4.
CARIBBEAN INFERNO. Susan
Sheinman. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 12.
THE CARIBBEAN WATCHERS.
Joseph D. Olander. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 35.
CASA DE LAS AMERICAS
WHOSE HOME? Florence L.
Yudin. Volume 6, Number 3,
Page 33.
A LA CASA DEL DIA. Jaime
Sabines. Volume2, Number4,
Page 4.
THE CASE OF THE MISSING
MAJORITY. Ken 1. Boodhoo.
Volume 6, Number 2, Page 3.

CENTRAL AMERICAN
ECONOMIC INTEGRATION.
Ramesh Ramsaran. Volume6,
Number 2, Page 47.
CHAIRMAN DUVALIER. Gerard
R. Latortue. Volume 2,
Number 1, Page 9.
CHE HMM. Robert Friedman.
Volume 1, Number4, Page 11
CHILE: POETRY AND ANTI-
POETRY. Barry Wallenstein.
Volume 5, Number 1, Page 4.
CHILE'S PAST MALAISE? Louis
Wolf Goodman. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 14.
CHINA AND LATIN AMERICA.
Joseph D. Olander. Volume4,
Number 4, Page 35.
THE COCKFIGHT. A SHORT
STORY. Dena Hirsch.
Volume 4, Number 4, Page 15.
COCKFIGHTING IN THE 19TH
CENTURY CARIBBEAN.
Mac6 de Challes. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 12.
COLOMBIA: COWBOY
COUNTRY. Barry B. Levine.
Volume 1, Number2, Page 11.
CONVERSATIONS WITH
GUILLERMO. Jos6 M. Alonso
Garcia. Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 6.
COOLIE LABOR IN TRINIDAD.
Charles Kingsley. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 21.
CREEPING MEXICANIZATION.
Dale Truett. Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 19.
CREOLE JAMAICA. Ena
Campbell. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 42.
CUBA AND THE CARIBBEAN.
Aaron Segal. Volume 4,
Number 1 and 2, Page 40.
CUBA: CREOLE STALINISM?
Robert W. Anderson.
Volume 4, Number 1 & 2,
Page 31.
CUBAN MORALITY. Irving Louis
Horowitz. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 33.
CUBANOLOGY. Aaron Segal.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 40.
CUBA'S OTHER REVOLUTION.
Roberto Leyva. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 33.
CULTURAL TAG. Barry B.
Levine. Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 2.
CULTURE AND POVERTY.
Oscar Lewis. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 5.
CURANDERISMO: FOLK
PSYCHIATRY. Joan Koss.
Volume 1, Number 2, Page 6.

DAY LONG DAY A POEM.
Tino Villanueva. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 32.
THE DEATH OF POETRY:
THE '68 PUERTO RICO
ELECTION. Charlie Albizu
and Norman Matlin. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 2.
DEMYTHOLOGY OF THE
SHOWCASE. Luis Nieves
Falc6n. Volume 2, Number 3,
Page 12.

DOES FIDEL EAT MORE THAN
YOUR FATHER? Barry
Reckford. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 4.
THE DOMINICAN INVASION.
Jorge Rodriguez Beruff.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 45.
DOMINICAN PATRIMONY.
Harmannus Hoetink. Volume
3, Number 1, Page 6.
DON PEDRO. Benjamin Torres
Ortiz. Volume 6, Number 2,
Page 43.
THE DRAINING OF SURINAM.
Edward Dew. Volume 5,
Number 4, Page 8.

EARTH WORDS. Florence L.
Yudin. Volume 6, Number 2,
Page 38.
ELECTIONS SURINAM STYLE.
Edward Dew. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 20.
ELEGY FOR A CHRISTIAN
PAGAN. Donald W. Hogg.
Volume 2, Number 2, Page 1.

A FAR CRY FROM AFRICA.
Derek Walcott. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 4.
FOLLOWERS OF THE NEW
FAITH. Samuel Silva Gotay.
Volume 2, Number 1,
Page 11.
FRENCH WEST INDIAN
AUTONOMY. Gerard R.
Latortue. Volume 2,
Number 2, Page 8.

GALILEO, ONAN AND THE
POPE. Jeffrey J. W. Baker.
Volume 1, Number 3, Page 5.
GAME OF CHESS. Jorge Luis
Borges, translated by Harold
Morland. Volume 1, Number
3, Page 5.
GENTLEMAN WITHOUT
COMPANY (A POEM). Pablo
Neruda, translated by Robert
Bly. Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 3.
THE GREAT ZOO. Florence L.
Yudin. Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 30.
GREEN HELL. Paul Vidich.
Volume 5, Number 2, Page 31.
GUATEMALA: OCCUPIED
COUNTRY. Rafael Garzaro,
translated by Curtis Long.
Volume 1, Number 3, Page 7.
GUATEMALA'S REBELS.
Eduardo Galeano. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 8.
GUERRILLAS IN LATIN
AMERICA. Luis Mercier
Vega. Volume 2, Number 3,
Page 9.

HAITIAN VOODOO: SOCIAL
CONTROL OF THE
UNCONSCIOUS. N6eida
Agosto Muhoz. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 6.
HAITI's ART. Herv6 Mehu.
Volume 3, Number 1, Page 14
HEALTH AND THE
DEVELOPING WORLD.
John Bryant. Volume 2,
Number 3, Page 7.

THE HERO AND THE CROWD.
Milton Pab6n. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 13.
A HINT OF SOMETHING BAD.
Robert W. Anderson.
Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 35.
HISTORICAL WRITING IN THE
CARIBBEAN. Thomas G.
Mathews. Volume 2,
Number 3, Page 4.
HOLLAND'S NARROWING
HORIZON. Albert Gastmann.
Volume 1, Number 1,
Page 13.
HOLY MOTHER SCHOOL.
Ivan Illich. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 1.
HOW TO BE INDEPENDENT.
William G. Demas. Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 9.
HUMAN POEMS. Barry
Wallenstein. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 11.
HYDROSPACE AND THE LAW
OF THE SEA. Lynden O.
Pindling. Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 6.

I SEEK A FORM. Rub6n Dario.
Poem translated by Lysander
Kemp. Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 12.
IMAGINARY BEINGS &
CRONOPIOS. Kal
Wagenheim. Volume 2,
Number 2, Page 11.
IN THE HOUSE OF THE DAY.
Jaime Sabines, translated by
Philip Levine. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 4.
INEQUALITY IN LATIN
AMERICA. Luis Wolf
Goodman. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 15.
INFINITY. Barry Wallenstein.
Volume 2, Number 4,
Page 12.
INTERVIEWING CABRERA
INFANTE. J. Raban Bilder.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 17.
THE ISLANDER. John Hawes.
Volume 2, Number 1, Page 2.

JAMAICA'S ECONOMY. Byron
White. Volume 1, Number 3,
Page 12.
JAMAICA'S MANLEY. Gordon
K. Lewis. Volume 5, Number
2, Page 44.
JOHN WAYNE ON CUBA.
Andr6s Suarez. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 11.
JOURNEY TO IXTLAN. Randy
Frances Kandel. Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 32.
JUAN BOSCH'S NEW STANCE.
Kal Wagenheim. Volume 2,
Number 1, Page 10.

KOHR'S SIZE THEORY. Anatol
Murad. Volume 2, Number 4,
Page 12.

LADIES AND WHORES IN
COLONIAL BRAZIL. Ann
Pescatello. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 26.

60/ CAPRBBhAN FClVEW

LANDSCAPE 2 POEM. Mario
de Andrade, translated by
Jack E. Tombins. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 5.
LATIN AMERICAN
DEVELOPMENT. Galo Plaza.
Volume 1, Number 4, Page 5.
LATIN AMERICAN ECONOMIC
INTEGRATION. Ramesh
Ramsaran. Volume 5,
Number 4, Page 41.
THE LEAN LANDS. Agustfn
YBjez, translated by Ethel
Brinton. Volume 1, Number
2, Page 8.
LEFT, CENTER, RIGHT.
Norman Matlin. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 3.
THE LEPER. Jaime Carrero.
Volume 3, Number 1,
Page 10.
LET US CONSTRUCT A
WATERCLOSET. Charles H.
Allen. Volume 3, Number 1,
Page 8.
LEVI-STRAUSS IN LATIN
AMERICA. David Goddard.
Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 10.
LITERATURE AND
REVOLUTION IN CHILE.
Fernando Alegria. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 13.
LITERATURE FOR THE
PUERTO RICAN DIASPORA.
Adalberto L6pez. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 5.
LITERATURE FOR THE
PUERTO RICAN DIASPORA:
PART II. Adalberto L6pez.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
A LITTLE BLACK BOOK. Ken
Boodhoo. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 42.
LIVING POOR. Moritz Thomsen.
Volume 1, Number 4, Page 8.
LONDON KNOWS, DO YOU?
J. Raban Bilder. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 24.
LUCIA. (Film Review) Oliva
Espin. Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 36.

THE MAGIC OF BLACK
HISTORY: IMAGES OF
HAITI. Yvette Gindine.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 25.
MARIO VARGAS LLOSA. Kal
Wagenheim. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 3.
MASCARAS Y VEJIGANTES:
THE FOLKLORE OF
PUERTO RICAN POLITICS.
C. Albizu-Miranda and
Norman Matlin. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 5.
MERCEDES. Barbara Howes.
Volume 2, Number 4, Page 5.
MEXICAN ARTISTS. Paul P.
Kennedy. Volume 4, Number
3, Page 12.
MEXICO BUDGETED. Hector
Orci. Volume 4, Number 1 &
2, Page 28.
MILITARY CUBA? Jos6 Antonio
Torres. Volume 4, Number
1 & 2, Page 36.

MIRROR, MIRROR. Carl Stone.
Volume 4, Number 4,
Page 28.
MODEL CITY: DAWN OR
DISASTER? Howard Stanton.
Volume 1, Number 1, Page 9.

NATIONAL DANCES OF THE
CARIBBEAN AND LATIN
AMERICA. Peggo Cromer.
Volume 6, Number 3,
Page 26.
THE NEGRO QUESTION. John
Stuart Mill. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 24.
NERUDA IN ENGLISH. Barry
Wallenstein. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 3.
THE NEW CARIBBEAN
HISTORY. Anthony P.
Maingot. Volume 3, Number
2, Page 2.
A NEW WORLD OR OLD
BARGAIN TOWN? Aaron
Segal. Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 32.
19TH CENTURY SANTO
DOMINGO. Harmannus
Hoetink. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 6.
NOCTURNE OF THE STATUE.
X.'vier Villaurrutia. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 30.
A NOVELIST'S EROTIC
RACIAL REVENGE. Mirna
M. P6rez-Venero. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 24.

OCCASIONAL DISCOURSE ON
THE NEGRO QUESTIONS.
Thomas Carlyle. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 18.
OH, THOSE AMAZON WOMEN!
Sara Weiss. Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 11.
ONE CAME TO DINNER. Bryan
O. Walsh. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 10.
100 YEARS OF MILITARY.
Jorge Rodriguez Beruff.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 44.
100 YEARS OF SOLITUDE.
Eneid Rouette. Volume 2,
Number 1, Page 5.

PACHUCO REMEMBERED.
Tino Villanueva. Volume 3,
Number 1, Page 5.
PAPADOCRACY. Jean-Claude
Garcia-Zamor. Volume 2,
Number 1, Page 8.
PAZ AND FUENTES: HOW
CLOSE? Edward J. Mullen.
Volume 6, Number 2,
Page 27.
PEASANTS CONSIDERED.
Carlos M. Rama. Volume 3,
Number 1, Page 13.
POEM I. O.R. Dathorne.
Volume 6, Number 3,
Page 38.
POEMAS HUMANOS/HUMAN
POEMS. C6sar Vallejo,
translated by Clayton
Eshleman. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 11.
POOR DR.! Thomas Mathews.
Volume 1, Number 3,
page 12.

POOR MAN'S BASS FIDDLE.
Donald Thompson.
Volume 3, Number 1,Page 11.
POVERTY IN PUERTO RICO:
DEMYTHOLOGY OF THE
SHOWCASE. Luis Nieves
Falc6n. Volume 2, Number 3,
Page 12.
POVERTY IN TRINIDAD. Ronald
G. Parris. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 44.
THE PROTESTANT CARTEL
IN PUERTO RICO. Howard
B. Grose. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 11.
A PUERTO RICAN HISTORY
OF PUERTO RICO. Juan
Rodriguez Cruz. Volume 3,
Number 1, Page 14.
PUERTO RICAN OBITUARY.
Pedro Juan Pietri. Volume 2,
Number 3, Page 14.
PUERTO RICO AND THE
CARIBBEAN. Thomas
Mathews. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 14.
PUERTO RICO IN 1834.
Edinburgh Review. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 8.
PUERTO RICO'S BLACKBOARD
JUNGLE. David D.
Hernandez. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 3.
A PURITAN IN BABYLON.
Gordon K. Lewis. Volume 1,
Number 4, PAge 3.

R.I.P. Thomas Mathews.
Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 41.
RAPE OF THE VIRGINS. James
W. Green. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 37.
THE RASTAS. Roy S. Bryce
Laporte. Volume 2, Number
2, Page 3.
RELATIONS WITH CUBA.
Ezequiel Ramirez Novoa.
Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 22.
REMEMBRANCES OF THINGS
DOMINICAN. Ligia Espinal
de Hoetink. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 18.
REMINISCENCES OF AN
AGING PUERTO RICAN.
Oscar Lewis. Volume 2,
Number 3, Page 1.
RESIDENCE ON EARTH. Pablo
Neruda. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 32.
REVOLUTIONARY CUBAN.
Octavio Pino. Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 20.
ROMANS, NATIVES AND
HELOTS. Gordon K. Lewis.
Volume 2, Number 1, Page 3.
THE RUIN OF JAMAICA.
Gardiner Green Hubbard.
Volume 3, Number 2, Page 8.
RUSSIA AND LATIN AMERICA.
Leon Gour6. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 39.

SIX MONTHS IN THE WEST
INDIES IN 1825. H. N.
Coleridge. Volume 5,
Number 4, Page 30.
SLAVES AS PEOPLE. Melvin

Drimmer. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 5.
THE SNIPER. Pedro Juan Soto,
translated by KalWagenheim.
Volume 1, Number 3, Page 3.
SO IT WASN'T A PICNIC. Joel
Magruder. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 12.
SOCIAL STRATA IN
ESPERANZA. Carlos
Buitrago Ortiz. Volume 2,
Number 3, Page 11.
SPANISH MAIMED. Aar6n G.
Ramos. Volume 1, Number 1,
Page 11.
THE STING! Patrick M. Catania.
Volume 6, Number 3,
Page 44.
STRANGER IN PARADISE. Eric
W. Blake. Volume 6, Number
2, Page 8.
STREET REFORM. Celia F. de
Cintr6n. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 13.
STRUCTURE AND CULTURE
IN SANTO DOMINGO.
Anthony P. Miangot. Volume
Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 43.
THE STRUGGLE FOR THE
UNDERDEVELOPED
WORLD: 1. Joseph Bensman
and Arthur Vidich. Volume 2,
Number 3, Page 3.
THE STRUGGLE FOR THE
UNDERDEVELOPED
WORLD: II. Joseph Bensman
and Arthur Vidich. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 4.
SUGAR AND EAST INDIAN
INDENTURESHIP IN
TRINIDAD. Ken Boodhoo.
Volume 5, Number 2,
Page 17.
SURINAM POLITICS. Robert H.
Manley. Volume 1, Number 1,
Page 12.

THE TEACHINGS OF
DON JUAN. Carlos
Castatreda. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 7.
THREE MEN BY THE RIVER.
Rend Marques, translated by
Kal Wagenheim. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 7.
THREE POEMS BY NICOLAS
GUILLEN. Nicolas Guill6n.
Translation into English by
Robert Marquez. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 28.
THREE TRAPPED TIGERS.
J. Raban Bilder. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 28.
TIRED LATIN LIBERALS.
Wolfgang A. Luchting.
Volume 2, Number 1, Page 6.
TOO MUCH OF A GOOD
THING. Aaron Segal.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 37.
TOUSSAINT BREDA. John
Hawes. Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 6.
TRANSFER OF POWER:
BRITISH-STYLE. Basil A.
Ince. Volume 1, Number 1,
Page 7.
TROPICAL HAMLET. Carlos

Alberto Montaner. Volume 2,
Number 2, Page 12.
TWENTY POEMS. Pablo
Neruda. Translation by James
Wright, Robert Bly. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 3.
TWO VIEWS OF ECUADOR.
Leopold Kohr. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 1.
THE UNHOLY TRINITY.
Anselme Remy. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 14.
THE U.S. & LATIN AMERICA.
Thomas Mathews. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 42.
THE VIEW FROM THE BARRIO.
Angelina Pollack-Eltz.
Volume 2, Number 1,
Page 13.

WAGENHEIM'S PROFILE.
Gordon Lewis. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 11.
WE WISH TO BE LOOKED
UPON. Ursula M. von
Eckardt. Volume 2,
Number 2, Page 10.
WEBER AND LATIN AMERICA.
Reinhard Bendix. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 3.
WEST INDIAN DIALOGUE.
Harmannus Hoetink.
Volume 1, Number 4, Page 6.
WEST INDIAN FICTION IS
ALIVE AND WELL. Eugene
V. Mohr. Volume 5,
Number 4, Page 23.
WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO
POLARIZATION IN THE
CARIBBEAN? Thomas
Mathews. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 26.
WHICH WAY THE FRENCH
WEST INDIES? Aaron Segal.
Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 39.
WHICH WAY THE U.S. VIRGIN
ISLANDS? Gordon Lewis.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 16.
WHO CARES ABOUT THE
CARIBBEAN. Colin G.
Clarke. Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 31.
WILL ALLENDE MAKE IT?
T.V. Sathyamurthy.
Volume 4, Number 1 & 2,
Page 7.

YOUNG CUBA. Elizabeth
Sutherland. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 9.

Articles and Reviews,
By Author

ALBIZU, CHARLIE. The Death
of Poetry: The '68 Puerto
Rico Election. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 2.
ALBIZU-MIRANDA, C. Mascaras
y Vejigantes: The Folklore
of Puerto Rican Politics.
Volume 1, Number 2, Page 5.

ALEGRIA, FERNANDO.
Literature and Revolution in
Chile. Volume 5, Number 2,
Page 13.
de ALEGRIA, MELA PONS.
Bread and Roses. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 13.
ALLEN, CHARLES H. Let Us
Construct a Watercloset.
Volume 3, Number 1,
Page 8.
ALONSO GARCIA, JOSE M.
Conversations With
Guillermo. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 6.
ANDERSON, ROBERT W.
Cuba: Creole Stalinism?
Volume 4, Number 1 & 2,
Page 31.
ANDERSON, ROBERT W.
A Hint Of Something Bad.
Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 35.
de ANDRADE, MARIO.
Landscape 2, poem translated
by Jack E. Tomlens.
Volume 1, Number 4, Page 5.

BAKER, J. W. JEFFREY.
Galileo, Onan and the Pope.
Volume 1, Number 3, Page 5.
BENDIX, REINHARD. Weber
and Latin America.
Volume 2, Number 4, Page 3.
BENSMAN, JOSEPH. The
Struggle for the Under-
developed World: I.Volume 2,
Number 3, Page 3.
BENSMAN, JOSEPH. The
Struggle for the Under-
developed World: II.
Volume 2, Number 4, Page 4.
BEST, LLOYD. Black Power
and Doctor Politics.
Volume 2, Number 2, Page 5.
BILDER, J. RABAN. London
Knows, Do You? Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 24.
BILDER, J. RABAN. Three
Trapped Tigers. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 28.
BILDER, J. RABAN. Borges:
Into the Mainstream Via the
Backdoor. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 18.
BILDER, J. RABAN. Interviewing
Cabrera Infante. Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 17.
BLAKE, ERIC W. Stranger in
Paradise. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 8.
BOODHOO, KEN I. A Little
Black Book. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 42.
BOODHOO, KEN 1. Sugar and
East Indian Indentureship in
Trinidad. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 17.
BOODHOO, KEN 1. The Case of
the Missing Majority.
Volume 6, Number 2, Page 3.
BORGES, JORGE LUIS. Game
of Chess. Translated by
Harold Morland. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 5.
BRYANT, JOHN. Health and
the Developing World.
Volume 2, Number 3, Page 7.
BRYCE-LAPORTE, ROY. The

Rastas. Volume 2, Number 2,
Page 3.
BUITRAGO ORTIZ, CARLOS.
Social Strata in Esperanza.
Volume 2, Number 3,
Page 11.

CAMPBELL, ENA. Creole
Jamaica. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 42.
CARLYLE, THOMAS.
Occasional Discourse on the
Negro Question. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 18.
CARRERO, JAIME. The Leper.
Volume 3, Number 1,
Page 10.
CASTANEDA, CARLOS. The
Teachings of Don Juan.
Volume 1, Number 2, Page 7.
CATANIA, PATRICK M.
The Sting! Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 44.
de CHALLES, MACE.
Cockfighting in the 19th
Century Caribbean.
Volume 4, Number 4,
Page 12.
de CINTRON, CELIA F. Street
Reform. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 13.
CLARKE, COLIN G. Who Cares
About the Caribbean?
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 31.
COLERIDGE, H. N. Six Months
In The West Indies in 1825.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 30.
CRAMER, PEGGO. National
Dances of the Caribbean and
Latin America. Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 26.

DARIO, RUBEN. 1 Seek A Form,
poem translated by Lysander
Kemp. Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 12.
DATHORNE, O. R. Poem 1.
Volume 6, Number 3, Page 38.
DEMAS, WILLIAM G. How to
Be Independent. Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 9.
DEW, EDWARD. The Draining
of Surinam. Volume 5,
Number 4, Page 8.
DEW, EDWARD. Elections
Surinam Style. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 20.
DRIMMER, MELVIN. Slaves As
People. Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 5.

von ECKARDT, URSULA M. We
Wish To Be Looked Upon.
Volume 2, Number 2,
Page 10.
EDINBURGH REVIEW. Puerto
Rico in 1834. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 8.
EMERSON, EDWIN JR. Alone
In Puerto Rico. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 18.
ESPIN, OLIVA. Lucia (Film
Review). Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 36.

FRIEDMAN, ROBERT. Che
Hmm. Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 11.

CABBCAN rEVIEW /61

GARCIA ZAMOR, JEAN-
CLAUDE. Papadocracy.
Volume 2, Number 1, Page 8.
GARZARO, RAFAEL. Camilo:
Rebel Priest. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 11.
GASTMANN, ALBERT.
Holland's Narrowing Horizon.
Volume 1, Number 1,
Page 13.
GINDINE, YVETTE. The Magic
of Black History: Images of
Haiti. Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 25.
GODDARD, DAVID. Levi-
Strauss in Latin America.
Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 10.
GOODMAN, LOUIS WOLF.
Chile's Past Malaise?
Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 14.
GOODMAN, LOUIS WOLF.
Inequality in Latin America.
Volume 4, Number 1 & 2,
Page 15.
GOURE, LEON. Russia and
Latin America. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 39.
GREEN, JAMES W. Rape of the
Virgins. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 37.
GROSE, HOWARD B.
The Protestant Cartel in
Puerto Rico. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 11.
GUILLEN, NICOLAS. Three
Poems by Nicolas Guillen.
Translated into English by
Robert Marquez. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 28.

HAWES, JOHN. The Islander.
Volume 2, Number 1, Page 2.
HAWES, JOHN. Toussaint
Breda. Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 6.
HERNANDEZ, DAVID D. Puerto
Rico's Blackboard Jungle.
Volume 4, Number 1 & 2,
Page 3.
HIRSCH, DENA. The Cockfight
A Short Story. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 15.
HOETINK, HARMANNUS. West
Indian Dialogue. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 6.
HOETINK, HARMANNUS. 19th
Century Santo Domingo.
Volume 2, Number 4,
Page 6.
HOETINK, HARMANNUS.
Dominican Patrimony.
Volume 3, Number 1, Page 6.
de HOETINK, LIGIA ESPINAL.
Remembrances of Things
Dominican. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 18.
HOGG, DONALD W. Elegy for
a Christian Pagan. Volume 2,
Number 2, Page 1.
HOROWITZ, IRVING LOUIS.
Cuban Morality. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 33.
HOWES, BARBARA. Mercedes.
Volume 2, Number 4,
Page 5.
HUBBARD, GARDINER GREEN.
The Ruin of Jamaica.
Volume 3, Number 2, Page 8.

62/ CAIBBEAN PFVIEW

ILLICH, IVAN. Holy Mother
School. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 1.
INCE, BASIL. Transfer of Power:
British Style. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 7.
SINCE, BASIL. Black Power In
Trinidad. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 10.
INCE, BASIL. The Caribbean
Commissions. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 36.

KANDEL, RANDY FRANCES.
Journey to lxtl6n. Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 32.
KENNEDY, PAUL P. Mexican
Artists. Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 12.
KINGSLEY, CHARLES. Coolie
Labor in Trinidad. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 21.
KOHR, LEOPOLD. Two Views
of Ecuador. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 1.
KOSS, JOAN. Curanderismo:
Folk Psychiatry. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 6.

LATORTUE, GERARD R.
Chairman Duvalier.
Volume 2, Number 1, Page 9.
LATORTUE, GERARD R.
French West Indian
Autonomy. Volume 2,
Number 2, Page 8.
LEVINE, BARRY B. Bootstrap
Babies. Volume 1, Number 1,
Page 6.
LEVINE, BARRY B. Colombia:
Cowboy Country. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 11.
LEVINE, BARRY B. Cultural
Tag. Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 2.
LEVINE, BARRY B. Bread vs.
Soul. Volume 2, Number 4,
Page 11.
LEWIS, GORDON. The Anguilla
Imbroglio: As Seen From
London. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 2.
LEWIS, GORDON. A Puritan in
Babylon. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 3.
LEWIS, GORDON. Romans,
Natives and Helots.
Volume 2, Number 1,
Page 3.
LEWIS, GORDON. An Anatomy
of Caribbean Vanity.
Volume 3, Number 1, Page 2.
LEWIS, GORDON. Wagenheim's
Profile. Volume 3, Number2,
Page 11.
LEWIS, GORDON. Jamaica's
Manley. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 44.
LEWIS, GORDON. Which Way
The U.S. Virgin Islands.
Volume 5, Number 4, Page 16.
LEWIS, OSCAR. Culture and
Poverty. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 5.
LEWIS, OSCAR. Reminiscences
of An Aging Puerto Rico.
Volume 2, Number 3, Page 1.
LEYVA, ROBERTO. Cuba's
Other Revolution. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 33.

LOPEZ, ADALBERTO.
Literature for the Puerto
Rican Diaspora. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 5.
LOPEZ, ADALBERTO.
Literature for the Puerto
Rican Diaspora: Part II.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
LUCHTING, WOLFGANG A.
Tired Latin Liberals.
Volume 2, Number 1, Page 6.

MAGRUDER, JOEL. So It
Wasn't a Picnic. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 12.
MAINGOT, ANTHONY P. The
New Caribbean History.
Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 2.
MAINGOT, ANTHONY P.
Structure and Culture In
Santo Domingo. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 43.
MANLEY, ROBERT H. Surinam
Politics. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 12.
MARQUES, RENE. Three Men
by the River. Translated by
Kal Wagenheim. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 7.
MATHEWS, THOMAS. Poor
Dr.! Volume 1, Number 3,
Page 12.
MATHEWS, THOMAS.
Historical Writing in the
Caribbean. Volume 2,
Number 3, Page 4.
MATHEWS, THOMAS.
Caribbean Economic History.
Volume 3, Number 1, Page 4.
MATHEWS, THOMAS. R. 1. P.
Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 41.
MATHEWS, THOMAS. The U.S.
and Latin America.
Volume 4, Number 4,
Page 42.
MATHEWS, THOMAS. What
Ever Happened to
Polarization in the Caribbean?
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 26.
MATHEWS, THOMAS. Puerto
Rico and The Caribbean.
Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 14.
MATLIN, NORMAN. The Death
of Poetry: The '68 Puerto
Rico Election. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 2.
MATLIN, NORMAN. Mascaras
y Vejigantes: The Folklore of
Puerto Rican Politics.
Volume 1, Number 2, Page 5.
MATLIN, NORMAN. Left,
Center, Right. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 3.
MEHU, HERVE. Haiti's Art.
Volume 3, Number 1,
Page 14.
MILL, JOHN STUART. The
Negro Question. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 24.
MOHR, EUGENE V. West Indian
Fiction is Alive and Well.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 23.

MONTANER, CARLOS
ALBERTO. Tropical Hamlet.
Volume 2, Number 2,
Page 12.
MULLEN, EDWARD J. Paz and
Fuentes: How Close?
Volume 6, Number 2,
Page 27.
MUNOZ, NELIDA AGOSTO.
Haitian Voodoo: Social
Control of the Unconscious.
Volume 4, Number 3, Page
Page 6.
MURAD, ANATOL. Kohr's Size
Theory. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 12.

NERUDA, PABLO. Caballero
S61o. Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 3.
NERUDA, PABLO. Gentlemen
Without Company, translated
by Robert Bly. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 3.
NERUDA, PABLO. Residence
On Earth. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 32.
NIEVES FALCON, LUIS.
Demythology of the
Showcase. Volume 2,
Number 3, Page 12.

OLANDER, JOSEPH D. China
and Latin America.
Volume 4, Number 4,
Page 35.
OLANDER, JOSEPH D.
The Caribbean Watchers.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 35.
ORCI, HECTOR. Mexico
Budgeted. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 28.

PABON, MILTON. The Hero
and the Crowd. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 13.
PARRIS, RONALD G. Poverty
In Trinidad. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 44.
PEREZ-VENERO, MIRNA M.
A Novelist's Erotic Racial
Revenge. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 24.
PESCATELLO, ANN. Ladies
and Whores in Colonial
Brazil. Volume 5, Number 2,
Page 26.
PIETRI, PEDRO JUAN. Puerto
Rican Obituary. Volume 2,
Number 3, Page 14.
PINDLING, LYNDEN O.
Hydrospace and the Law of
the Sea. Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 6.
PINO, OCTAVIO. Revolutionary
Cuban. Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 20.
PLAZA, GALO. Latin American
Development. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 5.
POLLAK-ELTZ, ANGELINA.
The View from the Barrio.
Volume 2, Number 1,
Page 13.
POLLAK-ELTZ, ANGELINA.
Black Carib Households.
Volume 2, Number 3,
Page 6.
RAMA, CARLOS. Peasants

Considered. Volume 3,
Number 1, Page 13.
RAMIREZ NOVOA, EZEQUIEL.
Relations with Cuba.
Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 22.
RAMOS, AARON. Spanish
Maimed. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 11.
RAMSARAN, RAMESH. Latin
American Economic
Integration. Volume 5,
Number 4,
Page 41.
RAMSARAN, RAMESH. Central
American Economic
Integration. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 47.
RECKFORD, BARRY. Does
Fidel Eat More Than Your
Father? Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 4.
REMY, ANSELME. The Unholy
Trinity. Volume 6, Number 2,
Page 14.
RODRIGUEZ BERUFF, JORGE.
100 Years of Military.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 44.
RODRIGUEZ BERUFF, JORGE.
The Dominican Invasion.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 45.
ROUETTE, ENEID. 100 Years
of Solitude. Volume 2,
Number 1, Page 5.

SABINES, JAIME. In The House
of the Day. A la Casa del
dia. Translated by Philip
Levine. Volume 2, Number 4,
Page 4.
SATHYAMURTHY, T. V. Will
Allende Make It? Volume 4,
Number 1 and 2, Page 7.
SEGAL, AARON. Cuba and the
Caribbean. Volume 4,
Number 1 and 2, Page 40.
SEGAL, AARON. A New World
or Old Bargain Town?
Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 32.
SEGAL, AARON. Cubanology.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 40.
SEGAL, AARON. Which Way
The French West Indies?
Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 39.
SEGAL, AARON. Too Much of
a Good Thing. Volume 5,
Number 4, Page 37.
SEGAL, AARON. Bahama
Watching. Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 40.
SHEINMAN, SUSAN. Caribbean
Inferno. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 12.
SILVA GOTAY, SAMUEL.
Followers of the New Faith.
Volume 2, Number 1,
Page 11.
SOTO, PEDRO JUAN. The
Sniper. Translated by Kal
Wagenheim. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 3.
STANTON, HOWARD. Model
City: Dawn or Disaster?
Volume 1, Number 1, Page 9.
STONE, CARL. Mirror, Mirror.

Volume 4, Number 4,
Page 28.
SUAREZ, ANDRES. John Wayne
on Cuba. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 11.
SUTHERLAND, ELIZABETH.
Young Cuba. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 9.

THOMPSON, DONALD. Poor
Man's Bass Fiddle. Volume 3,
Number 1, Page 11.
THOMSEN, MORITZ. Living
Poor. Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 8.
TORRES ORTIZ, BENJAMIN.
Don Pedro. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 43.
TORRES, JOSE ARSENIO.
Military Cuba? Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 36.
TRUETT, DALE. Creeping
Mexicanization. Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 19.

VALDELOMAR, ABRAHAM.
Apumarcu, the Potter.
Volume 2, Number 2,
page 13.
VALLEJO, CESAR. Poemas
Humanos/Human Poems.
Volume 1, Number 3,
Page 11.
VEGA, LUIS MERCER.
Guerrillas in Latin America.
Volume 2, Number 3,
Page 9.
VIDICH, ARTHUR. The Struggle
for the Underdeveloped
World: I. Volume 2,
Number 3,
Page 3.
VIDICH, ARTHUR. The Struggle
for the Underdeveloped
World: II. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 4.
VIDICH, PAUL. Green Hell.
Volume 5, Number 2,
Page 31.
VILLANUEVA, TINO. Pachuco
Remembered. Volume 3,
Number 1, Page 5.
VILLANUEVA, TINO. Day Long
Day-A Poem. Volume 4,
Number 1, Page 32.
VILLAURRUTIA, XAVIER.
Nocturne of the Statue.
Volume 4, Number 1 and 2,
Page 30.

WAGENHEIM, KAL. Mario
Vargas Llosa. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 3.
WAGENHEIM, KAL. An Affair
With Puerto Rico. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 11.
WAGENHEIM, KAL. Juan
Bosch's New Stance.
Volume 2, Number 1,
Page 10.
WAGENHEIM, KAL. Imaginary
Beings and Cronopios.
Volume 2, Number 2,
Page 11.
WALCOTT, DEREK. A Far Cry
from Africa. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 4.
WALLENSTEIN, BARRY.
Neruda In English. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 3.

WALLENSTEIN, BARRY.
Human Poems. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 11.
WALLENSTEIN, BARRY.
Infinity. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 12.
WALLENSTEIN, BARRY. Chile:
Poetry and Anti-Poetry.
Volume 4, Number 1, Page 4.
WALSH, BRYAN O. One Came
to Dinner. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 10.
WEISS, SARA. Oh, Those
Amazon Women! Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 11.

YANEZ, AGUSTIN. The Lean
Lands, translated by Ethel
Brinton. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 8.
YUDIN, FLORENCE L.
The Great Zoo. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 30.
YUDIN, FLORENCE L. Earth
Words. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 38.
YUDIN, FLORENCE L. Casa de
las Americas, Whose House?
Volume 6, Number 3,
Page 33.

Books Reviewed,
By Title

AID AS IMPERIALISM. Teresa
Hayter. Penguin Books,
1971. Volume 4, Number 4,
Page 42.
THE ART OF REVOLUTION.
CASTRO'S CUBA 1959-1970.
Dugald Stermer. McGraw-
Hill,1970. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 13.

BAHAMAS HANDBOOK.
Etienne Dupuck.
Jr. Publications, Nassau,
1973. Volume 6, Number 3,
Page 40.
BAHAMAS INDEPENDENCE
ISSUE, 1973. Third World
Group, Nassau, 1973.
Volume 6, Number 3, Page 40.
THE BEST OF POT LUCK.
Edward A. Minnis. Guardian,
Nassau, 1972. Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 40.
BLACK CARIB HOUSEHOLDS
STRUCTURE: A STUDY OF
MIGRATION AND
MODERNIZATION. Nancie
L. Solien Gonzalez. Univ. of
Wash., 1969. Volume 2,
Number 3, Page 6.
THE BOOK OF IMAGINARY
BEINGS. Jorge Luis Borges,
with Margarita Guerrero.
Translated by Norman
Thomas de Geovanni in
collaboration with the author.
E.P. Dutton, 1969. Volume 2,
Number 2, Page 11.
BREVE HISTORIC DE PUERTO
RICO. Loyda Figueroa.
2 Volumes. Editorial Edil,
Rio Piedras, 1969. Volume 3,
Number 1, Page 14.

BREVIARRE D'UNE
REVOLUTION. Francois
Duvalier. Imprimiere
Deschamps, Port-au-Prince,
Haiti, 1967. Volume 2,
Number 1, Page 9.

CANTE D'OCTOBRE. Rene
Depestre. Society Nationale
de Edition et de Diffusion,
Alger, 1969. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2,
Page 40.
THE CARIBBEAN COMMUNITY:
CHANGING SOCIETIES AND
U.S. POLICY. Robert D.
Cassweller. Praeger, 1972.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 31.
CARIBBEAN VOICES: AN
ANTHOLOGY OF
CARIBBEAN POETRY.
Selected by John Figueroa.
Volume I: Dreams and
Visions, 118 pp. Volume II:
The Blue Horizons, 228 pp.
Evans Brothers, Ltd., London,
1970. Volume 4, Number 1
& 2, Page 24.
THE CENTRAL AMERICAN
COMMON MARKET,
ECONOMIC POLICIES,
ECONOMIC GROWTH, AND
CHOICES FOR THE
FUTURE. Donald H.
McClelland. Praeger
Publishers, 1972. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 47.
100 ANOS DE EJERCITO
PERUANO: FRUSTRACIONES
Y CAMBIOS. Victor
Villanueva. Editorial Juan
Mejia Baca, Lima, 1972.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 44.
CIEN ANOS DE SOLEDAD.
Gabriel Garcia M6rquez.
Editorial Sudamericana,
Buenos Aires, 1968.
Volume 2, Number 1,
Page 5.
COLOMBIA: SOCIAL
STRUCTURE AND THE
PROCESS OF DEVELOP-
MENT. T. Lynn Smith. Univ.
of Florida Press, 1967.
Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 11.
COMMUNIST CHINA AND
LATIN AMERICA 1959-1967.
Cecil Johnson. Colombia
University Press, 1970.
Volume 4, Number 4,
Page 35.
LA CONCIENCIA NATIONAL
PUERTORRIQUENA: PEDRO
ALBIZU CAMPOS. Manuel
Maldonado Denis, ed. Siglo
XXI Editores, Mexico, 1972.
Volume 6, Number 2,
Page 43.
EL CONTROL DE LA
NATALIDAD COMO ARMA
DEL IMPERIALISMO. Jose
Consuegra. Editorial Galerna,
Buenos Aires, 1969.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 37.
CRONOPIOS AND FAMAS.

CARBBEAN FrCIEW /63

Julio Cortazar. Translated by
Paul Blackburn. Pantheon,
1969. Volume 2, Number 2,
Page 11.
CUBA, CASTRO AND
REVOLUTION. Jaime
Suchliki, ed. Univ. of Miami
Press, 1972. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 40.
CUBA, CASTRO AND THE
UNITED STATES. Philip W.
Bonsai. Univ. of Pittsburgh
Press, 1971. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 40.
CUBA: ES SOCIALIST? Ren6
Dumont. Editorial Tiempo
Nuevo, Caracas, 1970.
Volume 4, Number 1 & 2,
Page 36.
CUBA: EST-IL SOCIALIST?
Rene Dumont. Editions du
Seuil, Paris, 1970. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 36.
CUBA: THE PURSUIT OF
FREEDOM. Hugh Thomas.
Harper and Row, 1971.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 40.
THE CUBAN AND PUERTO
RICAN CAMPAIGNS. Richard
Harding Davis. Chas.
Scribner's Sons. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 12.
CULTURE AND POVERTY.
Charles A. Valentine. Univ.
of Chicago Press. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 5.
CURANDERISMO: MEXICAN-
AMERICAN FOLK
PSYCHIATRY. Ari Kiev.
Free Press, 1968. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 6.

THE DAY THE WORLD ENDED.
Gordon Thomas & Max
Morgan Witts. Stein & Day,
1969. Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 12.
A DESTINY TO MOLD. Forbes
Burnham, compiled by C.A.
Nascimento and R.A.
Burrowes. Africana Publishing
Corp., 1970. Volume 3,
Number 1, Page 2.
THE DEVELOPMENT OF
CREOLE SOCIETY IN
JAMAICA: 1770-1820.
Edward Braithwaite. Claredon
Press: Oxford University
Press, 1971. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 42.
THE DOMINICAN INTERVEN-
TION. Abraham F. Lowenthal.
Harvard University Press,
1972. Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 45.
THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC, A
NATION IN TRANSITION.
Howard Wiarda. Frederick R.
Praeger, 1969. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 12.
THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC:
REBELLION AND
REPRESSION. Carlos Maria
Guti&rrez. Monthly Review
Press, 1972. Volume 5,
Number 4, Page 45.

ECUADOR. Henri Michaux.
Translated by Robin

64/ CARBnIAN rfVIEW

Magowan. Univ. of
Washington, 1970. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 12.
EN LA CALLE ESTABAS:
LA VIDA DENTRO DE UNA
INSTITUCION PARA
MENORES. Awilda Palau de
L6pez and Ernesto Ruiz.
Editorial Edil, Rio Piedras,
1969. Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 13.
ESSAYS ON POPULATION
POLICY. Edwin D. Driver.
D.C. Heath,1972. Volume 5,
Number 4, Page 37.
LES ETATS-UNIS ET LA
REVOLUTION CUBAINE.
Manuela Semidei. Armand-
Colin, Paris, 1968. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 40.

LE FAIT NATIONAL
GUADELOUPEEN. Laurent
Farugio. Ivrysun Seine, 1968.
Volume 5, Number 3,Page 39.
FECONDITE ET FAMILLE EN
MARTINIQUE. Henri Leridon,
Elisaberth Zucker, Maite
Cazenave. Presses
Universitaires de France,
1970. Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 39.
FOLLOWERS OF THE NEW
FAITH. Emilio Willems.
Vanderbilt University Press,
1967. Volume 2, Number 1,
Page 11.
EL FRANCOTIRADOR. Pedro
Juan Soto. Editorial Joaquin
Martiz, Mexico, 1969.
Volume 2, Number 2, Page 12.

GUATEMALA, OCCUPIED
COUNTRY. Eduardo
Galeano. Monthly Review,
1969. Volume 1, Number 3,
Page 7.
GUERRILLAS IN POWER: THE
COURSE OF THE CUBAN
REVOLUTION. K.S. Karol.
Translated by Arnold
Pomerans. Hill & Wang,
1970. Volume 4, Number 1
&2, Page 31.

HALF A LOAF: CANADA'S
SEMI-ROLE AMONG
DEVELOPING COUNTRIES.
Clyde Sanger. Ryetson Press,
Toronto, 1969. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 40.
HAVANA JOURNAL. Andrew
Salkey. Pelican, 1971.
Volume 4, Number 1 & 2,
Page 40.
HEIGHTS OF MACCHU PICCHU.
Pablo Neruda. Translated by
Nathaniel Tarn. Farrar,
Straus, and Giroux.
Volume 1, Number 2, Page 3.
THE HERO AND THE CROWD
IN A COLONIAL POLITY.
A.W. Singham. Yale Univ.
Press. Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 13.
A HISTORY OF THE BAHAMAS
Michael Craton. Colins,
London, 1968. Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 40.

UN HOMBRE ACORRALADO
POR LA HISTORIC. C6sar
Andreu Iglesias. Editorial
Claridad, San Juan, 1964.
Volume 1, Number 4, Page 3.
HOT LAND, COLD SEASON.
Pedro Juan Soto. Dell,1973.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
HOW TO PROFIT FROM THE
COMING LAND BOOM IN
THE CARIBBEAN ISLANDS
AND LATIN AMERICA.
William E. Gilbert. Frederick
Fell Pub., 1973. Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 44.

IDEOLOGY, FAITH, AND
FAMILY PLANNING IN
LATIN AMERICA. J. Mayone
Stycos. McGraw-Hill.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 37.
THE INNOCENT ISLAND.
ABACO IN THE BAHAMAS.
Zoe C. Durrell. Durrell
Publications,1972. Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 40.
INWARD HUNGER, THE
EDUCATION OF A PRIME
MINISTER. Eric Williams.
Andre Deutsch, London,
1969. Volume 3, Number 1,
Page 2.

JAMAICA PAPERS. Published
by the Jamaica Committee.
London: 1866. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 8.
THE JAMAICAN ECONOMY.
Ransford W. Palmer. Praeger,
1968. Volume 1, Number 3,
Page 12.
JOURNEY TO IXTLAN: THE
LESSONS OF DON JUAN.
Carlos Castafeda. Simon
and Schuster, 1972.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 32.

KENNEDY ET LA REVOLUTION
CUBAINE. Manuela Semidei.
Julliard, Paris, 1972.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 40.
DE KRIMPENDE HORIZON
VAN DE HOLLANDSE
KOOPLIEDEN, EIN STUDIED
OVER HOLLANDS
WELVAREN IN HET
CARIBISCH ZEEGEBIEL
(1780-1830). Theo P.M. De
Jonj, Assen. Van Gercum &
Comp. N.V., 1966. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 13.

LATIN AMERICAN ECONOMIC
INTEGRATION AND U.S.
POLICY. Joseph Grunwald,
Miguel S. Wicnezek and
Martin Carney. The
Brookings Institution, 1972.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 41.
THE LIGHT AND SHADOWS
OF JAMAICA HISTORY.
Hon. Richard Hill. Kingston,
Jamaica, 1859. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 8.
LIVING POOR. Moritz Thomsen.

University of Washington
Press, 1969. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 1.
THE LOSERS. Paul D. Bethel.
Arlington House, 1968.
Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 11.
LOWER CLASS FAMILIES:
THE CULTURE OF
POVERTY IN NEGRO
TRINIDAD. Hyman Rodman.
Oxford Univ. Press, 1971.
Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 44.

THE MAKING OF AN
UNAMERICAN. Paul Cowan.
Viking Press, 1970.
Volume 2, Number 4, Page 1.
MAN-MAKING WORDS.
Selected Poems of Nicolas
Guill6n. Translated by Robert
MBrquez and David Arthur
McMurray. Univ. of Mass.
Press, 1972. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 30.
MEMOIRES D'UN LEADER DU
TIERS MONDE. Francois
Duvalier. Hachette, Paris,
1969. Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 9.
THE MEXICAN REVOLUTION:
FEDERAL EXPENDITURE
AND SOCIAL CHANGE
SINCE 1910. James W.
Wilke. Univ. of California
Press, 1970. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 28.
MODEL CITIES PROGRAM:
MUNICIPALITY OF SAN
JUAN. (3 volumes).City
Demonstration Agency,
San Juan, 1968-69.
Volume 1, Number 1, Page 9.
MIRROR, MIRROR: IDENTITY,
RACE, AND PROTEST IN
JAMAICA. Rex Nettleford.
William Collins and Sangster
Ltd., Jamaica, 1970.
Volume 4, Number 4,
Page 28.
NEUROSES IN THE SUN.
Timothy O. McCartney.
Executive Ideas, Nassau,
1971. Volume 6, Number 3,
Page 40.

100 YEARS OF SOLITUDE.
Gabriel Garcia M6rquez.
Harper & Row, 1970.
Volume 2, Number 1,Page 5.
THE ORDEAL OF FREE LABOR
IN THE BRITISH WEST
INDIES. W.G. Sewell. New
York, 1862. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 8.

iPATRIA O MUERTE! THE
GREAT ZOO AND OTHER
POEMS. Nicol6s Guillen.
Translated by Robert
MBrquez. Monthly Review
Press. Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 30.
PATTERNS OF INTERNA-
TIONAL COOPERATION IN
THE CARIBBEAN 1942-
1969. Herbert Cockran, Jr.
Southern Methodist Univ.

Press, 1970. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 36.
PEOPLES AND CULTURES OF
THE CARIBBEAN: AN
ANTHROPOLOGICAL
READER. Michael M.
Horowitz. Natural History
Press, 1971. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 31.
POET IN THE FORTRESS: THE
STORY OF LUIS MUNOZ
MARIN. Thomas Aitken.
New American Library,
1964. Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 3.
POLITICAL HISTORY OF LATIN
AMERICA. Ronald Glassman.
Funk and Wagnalls, 1969.
Volume 2, Number 4, Page 3.
POLITICAL SCIENCE IN
POPULATION STUDIES.
Richard L. Clinton, William
S. Flash, R. Kenneth Godwin,
eds. D.C. Heath, 1972.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 37.
THE POLITICAL SYSTEM OF
CHILE. Federico G. Gil.
Random House, 1966.
Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 14.
POLITICS AND ECONOMICS
IN THE CARIBBEAN. T. G.
Mathews and F. M. Andic,
eds. Institute of Caribbean
Studies, University of Puerto
Rico, 1971. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 35.
POLITICS AND SOCIAL
FORCES IN CHILEAN
DEVELOPMENT. James
Petras. Univ. of California
Press, 1969. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 14.
THE POLITICS OF PUERTO
RICAN UNIVERSITY
STUDENTS. Arthur Liebman.
Univ. of Texas, 1970.
Volume 2, Number 4,
Page 11.
THE POLITICS OF SURINAM
AND THE NETHERLANDS
ANTILLES. Albert L.
Gastmann. Institute of
Caribbean Studies, Univ. of
Puerto Rico. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 12.
POPULATION POLICIES AND
GROWTH IN LATIN
AMERICA. David Chaplin,
ed. Lexington Books.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 37.
POUR LA GUADELOUPE
INDEPENDANTE. Monique
Vernhes, Jean Block.
Maspero, Paris, 1970.
Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 39.
THE PRESENT CRISIS AND
HOW TO MEET IT.
Rev. Panton. Jamaica, 1866.
Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 8.
PROBLEMS DE DESIGUAL-
DAD SOCIAL EN PUERTO
RICO. Rafael Ramirez, Barry
B. Levine, and Carlos
Buitrago, eds. Libreria
International, Puerto Rico,

1972. Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 35.
EL PUEBLO DOMINICANO:
1850-1900. APUNTES PARA
SU SOCIOLOGIA
HISTORIC. Harmannus
Hoetink. Translated by
Ligia Espinal de Hoetink.
Universidad Cat6lica Madre
y Maestra, Santiago, 1971.
Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 43.
THE PUERTO RICAN
EXPERIENCE. Francesco
Cordasco and Eugene
Bucchioni,eds. Rowman and
Littlefield, 1973. Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 41.
THE PUERTO RICAN PAPERS:
NOTES ON THE RE-
EMERGENCE OF A
NATION. Alfredo L6pez. The
Bobbs-Merrill Co., 1973.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
THE PUERTO RICANS: A
DOCUMENTARY HISTORY.
Ed. by Kal Wagenheim with
Olga Jim6nez de Wagenheim.
Praeger Pub., 1973.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
THE PUERTO RICANS: AN
ANNOTATED BIBLIO-
GRAPHY. Paquita Vivo,
R.R. Bowker Co., 1973.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
PUERTO RICANS IN THE
UNITED STATES: A
BIBLIOGRAPHY. Francesco
Cordasco and Eugene
Bucchioni, eds. Rowman and
Littlefield, 1972. Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 41.
PUERTO RICO. Marvin Schwartz.
Grosset & Dunlop. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 11.
PUERTO RICO: A PROFILE.
Kal Wagenheim. Praeger,
1970. Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 11.
PUERTO RICO: COMMON-
WEALTH, STATE OR
NATION? Byron Williams.
Parents' Magazine Press,
1972. Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
PUERTO RICO: UNA INTER-
PRETACION HISTORICO-
SOCIAL. Manuel Maldonado
Denis. Siglo XXI, Mexico,
1969. Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 3.

THE QUIET REVOLUTION IN
THE BAHAMAS. Doris L.
Johnson. Family Islands
Press, Nassau, 1972.
Volume 6, Number 3, Page 40.

RACE AND REVOLUTIONARY
CONSCIOUSNESS. A
DOCUMENTARY INTER-
PRETATION OF THE 1970
BLACK POWER REVOLT IN
TRINIDAD. Ivar Oxaal.
Schenkman, 1971. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 42.

THE RASTAFARIANS: A STUDY
IN MESSIANIC CULTISM IN
JAMAICA. Leonard E.
Barrett. Institute of Caribbean
Studies, Univ. of Puerto Rico,
1969. Volume 2, Number 2,
Page 3.
READINGS IN THE POLITICAL
ECONOMY OF THE
CARIBBEAN. Norman Girvan
and Owen Jefferson, eds.
New World Group, Kingston,
1971. Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 32.
REFLECTIONS ON THE
GORDON REBELLION. S.R.
Ward. Jamaica: 1866.
Volume 3, Number 2, Page 8.
REPORT OF THE JAMAICA
ROYAL COMMISSION.
London: 1866. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 8.
REPORT OF W. MORGAN,
ESQ. ON HIS MISSION TO
JAMAICA. Jamaica: 1866.
Volume 3, Number 2, Page 8.
RESIDENCE ON EARTH. Pablo
Neruda. Translated by
Donald D. Walsh. New
Directions, 1973. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 38.
REVOLUTION NEXT DOOR.
Gary MacEoin. Holt, Rinehart
& Winston, 1971. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 42.
REVOLUTIONARY CHANGE IN
CUBA. Carmelo Mesa-Lago,
ed. Univ. of Pittsburg Press,
1971. Volume 4, Number 1,
Page 40.

SELECTED POEMS OF PABLO
NERUDA. Translated by Ben
Bellit. Grove Press.
Volume 1, Number 2, Page 3.
A SEPARATE REALITY:
FURTHER CONVERSATIONS
WITH DON JUAN. Carlos
Castaneda. Simon and
Schuster, 1971. Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 32.
SLAVE SOCIETY IN CUBA.
Franklin W. Knight. Univ. of
Wisconsin Press, 1970.
Volume 5, Number 1, Page 40.
THE SOBER GENERATION:
CHILDREN OF OPERATION
BOOTSTRAP. R. Fernandez
U. von Echardt, E.
Maldonado Sierra. Univ. of
Puerto Rico Press, 1969.
Volume 1, Number 1, Page 6.
SOVIET IMAGE OF
CONTEMPORARY LATIN
AMERICA, A DOCUMENTARY
HISTORY, 1960-1968.
Robert G. Carlton and
J. Gregory Oswald, eds.
Univ. of Texas Press, 1970.
Volume 4, Number 4, Page 39.
THE SOVIET UNION AND
LATIN AMERICA. J. Gregory
Oswald and Anthony Strover,
eds. Praeger Publishers,
1970. Volume 4, Number 4,
Page 39.
SPIKS. Pedro Juan Soto.
Monthly Review Press, 1973.
Volume 6, Number 4, Page 41.
A STRATEGY FOR CARIBBEAN

ECONOMIC INTEGRATION.
Roland I. Perusse. North-
South Press, San Juan,
1971. Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 41.
EL SUPERDESARROLLO.
Leopold Kohr. Biblioteca
Universal Miracle, Barcelona,
1969. Volume 2, Number 4,
Page 12.

THE TEACHINGS OF DON
JUAN: A YAQUI WAY OF
KNOWLEDGE. Carlos
Castaneda. Ballantine Books,
1973. Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 32.
THREE TRAPPED TIGERS.
G. Cabrera Infante. Translated
by Donald Gaudner and
Suzanne Jill Levine. Harper
& Row, 1971. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 28.
THE THEORY OF MORAL
INCENTIVES IN CUBA.
Robert M. Bernardo. Univ. of
Alabama Press, 1971.
Volume 4, Number 4, Page 33.
TRANSCULTURACION E
INTERFERENCIA
LINGUISTICA EN EL
PUERTO RICO CONTEM-
PORANEO: 1898-1968.
German de Granda.
Publicaciones del Instituto
Caro y Cuervo XXIV, Bogota,
1968. Volume 1, Number 1,
Page 11.
TRES TRISTES TIGRES.
G. Cabrera Infante. Editorial
Seix Barral, Barcelona, 1965.
2nd edition, 1971. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 28.
TRISTES TROPIQUES. C. Levi
Strauss. Librarie Plon, Paris,
1955. Hutchinson, London,
1961. Criterion Books, N.Y.,
1961. Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 10.

THE UNITED STATES AND
THE CARIBBEAN. Tad
Szulc, ed. Prentice-Hall,
1971. Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 35.

THE VIEW FROM THE BARRIO.
Lisa Redfield Peattie. Univ.
of Michigan, 1968. Volume 2,
Number 1, Page 13.

WE ARE MANY. Pablo Neruda.
Grossman Publishers in
association with Cape
Goliard, London. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 3.
WE WISH TO BE LOOKED
UPON: A STUDY OF THE
ASPIRATIONS OF YOUTH
IN A DEVELOPING
SOCIETY. Vera Rubin and
Marisa Zavalloni. Teachers
College Press, Columbia
University, 1969. Volume 2,
Number 2, Page 10.
WEST INDIAN SOCIETY. David
Lowenthal. Oxford Univ.
Press, 1972. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 31.
THE WEST INDIES. Rev. Dr.

CAr?BBCAN REVIEW /65

Underhil. London: 1862.
Volume 3, Number 2, Page 8.
THE WEST ON TRIAL-MY
FIGHT FOR GUYANA'S
FREEDOM. Cheddi Jagan.
Michael Joseph, London,
1966. Volume 3, Number 1,
Page 2.

Books Reviewed,
By Author

AGUILAR, LUIS E. Cuba 1933:
Prologue to Revolution.
Cornell University Press,
1972. Volume 5, Number 2,
Page 33.
AITKEN, THOMAS Poet in the
Fortress: The Story of Luis
Munoz Marn. New American
Library, 1964. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 3.
ANDIC, F. M. Politics and
Economics in the Caribbean.
T. G. Mathews and F. M.
Andic, eds. Institute of
Caribbean Studies, University
of Puerto Rico, 1971. (2nd
revised edition). Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 35.

BARRETT, LEONARD E.
The Rastafarians: A Study of
Messianic Cultism in Jamaica.
Institute of Caribbean
Studies, University of Puerto
Rico, 1969. Volume 2,
Number 2, Page 3
BERNARDO, ROBERT M.
The Theory of Moral
Incentives In Cuba. University
of Alabama Press, 1971.
Volume 4, Number 4,
Page 33.
BETHEL, PAUL D. The Losers.
Arlington House, 1968.
Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 11.
BLOCK, JEAN Pour La
Guadeloupe Independante.
Monique Vernkes, Jean
Block. Maspero, Paris, 1970.
Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 39.
BOARD, LUCIEN Green Hell:
Massacre of the Brazilian
Indians. Outerbridge and
Dienstfrey, 1972. Volume 5,
Number 2, Page 31.
BONSAL, PHILIP W. Cuba,
Castro and the United States.
University of Pittsburgh
Press, 1971. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 40.
BORGES, JORGE LUIS.
The Book of Imaginary
Beings. Translated by
Norman di Giovanni. E. P.
Dutton, 1969. Volume 2,
Number 2, Page 11.
BRAITHWAITE, EDWARD.
The Development of Creole
Society in Jamaica: 1770-
1820. Claredon Press: Oxford
University Press, 1971.
Volume 5, Number 2,
Page 42.

66/ CAIBHEAN REVIEW

BUCCHIONI, EUGENE.
The Puerto Rican Experience.
Francesco Cordasco and
Eugene Bucchioni, eds.
Rowman and Littlefield, 1973.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
BUCCHIONI, EUGENE. Puerto
Ricans In the United States:
A Bibliography. Francesco
Cordasco and Eugene
Bucchioni, eds. Rowman &
Littlefield, 1972. Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 41.
BUITRAGO, CARLOS.
Problems de Desigualdad
Social en Puerto Rico. Rafael
Ramirez, Barry B. Levine &
Carlos Buitrago, eds. Libreria
International, Rio Piedras,
1972. Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 35.
BURNHAM, FORBES. A Destiny
to Mold. Compiled by C. A.
Nascimaento and R.A.
Burrowes. African Publishing
Co., 1970. Volume 3,
Number 1, Page 2.

CABRERA INFANTE, G. Three
Trapped Tigers. Translated
by Donald Gardner and
Suzanne Jill Levine. Harper
and Row, 1971. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 28.
CABRERA INFANTE, G. Tres
Tristes Tigres. Editorial Seix
Barral, Barcelona, 1965.
2nd ed., 1971. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 28.
CARLTON, ROBERT G. Soviet
Image of Contemporary Latin
America, A Documentary
History, 1960-1968. Robert
G. Carlton and G. Gregory
Oswald, eds. Univ. of Texas
Press, 1970. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 39.
CARNEY, MARTIN. Latin
American Economic
Integration and U.S. Policy.
The Brookings Institution,
1972. Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 41.
CASTANEDA,CARLOS.
Journey to lxtlan. The
Lessons of Don Juan. Simon
and Schuster, 1972.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 32.
CASTANEDA, CARLOS.
A Separate Reality: Further
Conversations with Don
Juan. Simon and Schuster,
1971. Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 32.
CASTANEDA, CARLOS.
The Teachings of Don Juan:
A Yaqui Way of Knowledge,
Ballantine Books, 1973.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 32.
CAZENAVE, MAITE. Fecondite
et Famille en Martinique.
Henri Lexidon, Elisabeth
Zucker, Maite Cazenave, eds.
Presses Universitaires de
France, 1970. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 39.
CHAPLIN, DAVID, ed. Popula-

tion Policies and Growth in
Latin America. Lexington
Books, D.C. Heath, Lexington.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 37.
CITY DEMONSTRATION
AGENCY. San Juan Model
Cities Program Municipality of
San Juan, 1968-69. Volume 1,
Number 1,
Page 9.
CLINTON, RICHARD L. ed.
Political Science in Popula-
tion Studies. D.C. Heath,
1972. Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 37.
CONSUEGRA, JOSE. El Control
de la Natalidad Como Arma
del Imperialismo. Editorial
Galerna, Buenos Aires, 1969.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 37.
CORDASCO,FRANCESCO.
The Puerto Rican Experience.
Francesco Cordasco and
Eugene Bucchioni, eds.
Rowman and Littlefield,
1973. Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
CORDASCO,FRANCESCO.
Puerto Ricans In the United
States: A Bibliography.
Francesco Cordasco and
Eugene Bucchioni, eds.
Rowman and Littlefield,
1972. Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
CORKRAN, HERBERT JR.
Patterns of International
Cooperation In The Carib-
bean, 1942-1969. Southern
Methodist University Press,
1970. Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 36.
CORTAZAR, JULIO. Cronopios
and Famas. Translated by
Paul Blackburn. Pantheon,
1969. Volume 2, Number 2,
Page 11.
COWAN, PAUL. The Making of
An Unamerican. Viking
Press, 1970. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 1.
CRASSWELLER, ROBERT D.
The Caribbean Community:
Changing Societies and U.S.
Policy. Praeger, 1972.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 31.
CRATON, MICHAEL. A History
of the Bahamas. Colins,
London, 1968. Volume 6,
Number 3, Page 40.

DAVIS, RICHARD HARDING.
The Cuban and Puerto Rican
Campaigns. Chas Scribner's.
Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 12.
DE JONG, THEO P.M. De
Krimpende Horizon Van De
Hollandse Kooplieden, Een
Sudie Over Hollands
Welvanen in Hoet Caribisch
Zeegebied (1780-1830). Van
Gorcum & Comp., N. V. 1966
Volume 1, Number 1,
Page 13.
DEPESTRE, RENE. Cantate
d'Octobre. Societe Nationale

de Edition et de Diffusion,
Alger, 1969. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 40.
DRIVER, EDWIN D. Essays
on Population Policy. D.C.
Heath, 1972. Volume 5,
Number 4, Page 37.
DUMONT, RENE. Cuba:
(Es Socialista? Editorial
Tiempo Nuevo, Caracas,
1970. Volume 4, Number 1
& 2, Page 36.
DUMONT, RENE. Cuba: Est-il
Socialiste? Editions del Sevil,
Paris, 1970. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 36.
DUMONT, RENE.
"The Militarization of
Fidelismo" Dissent Volume
XVII, No. 5, 1970. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 36.
DURRELL, ZOE C. The Innocent
Island: Abaco in the Bahamas
Durrell Publications, 1972.
Volume 6, Number 3,
Page 40.
DUVALIER, FRANCOIS.
Breviarre D'une Revoultion.
Imprimiere Deschamps, Haiti,
1967. Volume 2, Number 1,
Page 9.
DUVALIER, FRANCOIS.
Memoires D'un Leader del
Tiers Monde. Hachette, Paris,
1969. Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 9.

von ECKARDT, U. The Sober
Generation: Children of
Operation Bootstrap.
R. Fernandez, U. von Eckardt,
E. Maldonado Sierra. Univ.
of Puerto Rico Press, 1969.
Volume 1, Number 1, Page 6.

FAREIGIA, LAURENT. Le Fait
National Guadeloupeen.
Ivry-sur, Seine 1968.
Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 39.
FERNANDEZ, R. The Sober
Generation: Children of
Operation Bootstrap.
R. Fern6ndez, U. von Eckardt,
E. Maldonado Sierra. Univ.
of Puerto Rico Press, 1969.
Volume 1, Number 1,Page 6.
FIGUEROA, JOHN. Caribbean
Voices. Vol. 1: Dreams and
Visions. Vol. II: The Blue
Horizons. Evans Bros., Ltd.,
London, 1970. Volume 4,
Number 1 and 2, Page 24.
FIGUEROA, LOYDA. Breve
Historia de Puerto Rico.
2 vols. Editorial Edil, Rio
Piedras, 1969. Volume 3,
Number 1, Page 14.
FLASH, WILLIAM S. ed.
Political Science in Popula-
rion Studies. D.C. Heath,
1972. Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 37.

GALEANO,EDUARDO.
Guatemala, Occupied
Country. Monthly Review,
1969. Volume 1, Number 3,
Page 7.
GARCIA MARQUEZ, GABRIEL.

Cien Anos de Soledad.
Editorial Sudamerica,
Buenos Aires, 1968.
Volume 2, Number 1,
Page 5.
GARCIA MARQUEZ, GABRIEL.
100 Years of Solitude. Harper
and Row, 1970. Volume 2,
Number 1, Page 5.
GASTMANN, ALBERT L.
The Politics of Surinam and
the Netherlands Antilles.
Institute of Caribbean
Studies. University of Puerto
Rico. Volume 1, Number 1,
Page 12.
GIL, FEDERICO G. The Political
System of Chile. Random
House, 1966. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 14.
GILBERT, WILLIAM E. How to
Profit from the Coming Land
Boom in the Caribbean
Islands and Latin America.
Frederick Fell Publishers,
1973. Volume 6, Number 3,
Page 44.
GIRVAN, NORMAN. Readings
in the Political Economy of
The Caribbean. Norman
Girvan and Owen Jefferson,
eds. New World Group,
Jamaica, 1971. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 32.
GLASSMAN, RONALD. Political
History of Latin America.
Funk and Wagnells, 1969.
Volume 2, Number 4,
Page 3.
GODWIN, R. KENNETH, ed.
Political Science in Popula-
tion Studies. D.C. Heath,
1972. Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 37.
de GRAND, GERMAN.
Transculturaci6n E Inter-
ferencia Lingfiistica En El
Puerto Rico Contemporaneo:
1898-1968. Publicaciones
del Instituto Caro y Cuervo;
XXIV, Bogot6, 1968.
Volume 1, Number 1,
Page 11.
GRUNWALD, JOSEPH. Latin
American Economic
Integration and U.S. Policy.
The Brookings Institution,
1972. Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 41.
GUILLEN, NICOLAS. Man-
Making Words Selected
Poems of Nicolds Guill6n.
Translated by Robert Marquez
and David Arthur McMurray.
Univ. of Mass. Press, 1972.
Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 30.
GUILLEN, NICOLAS. iPatria o
Muerte! The Great Zoo and
Other Poems. Translated by
Robert M6rquez. Monthly
Review Press. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 30.
GUTIERREZ, CARLOS.
The Dominican Republic:
Rebellion and Repression.
Monthly Review Press, 1972.
Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 45.

HAYTER, TERESA. Aid as
Imperialism Penguin Books
Ltd., 1971. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 42.
HOETINK, HARMANNUS.
El Pueblo Dominicano: 1850-
1900 Apuntes Para Su
Sociologia Hist6rica.
Translated by Ligia Espinal
de Hoetink. Universidad
Cat6lica Madre y Maestra,
Santiago, 1971. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 43.
HOROWITZ, MICHAEL M.
Peoples and Cultures of the
Caribbean: An Anthropo-
logical Reader. Natural
History Press, 1971.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 31.

IGLESIAS, CESAR ANDREU.
Un Hombre Acorralado por
la Historia Editorial Claridad,
San Juan, 1964. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 3.
ILAN, RICHARD HILL. The Light
and Shadows of Jamaica
History. Kingston, Jamaica,
1859. Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 8.

JAGAN, CHEDDI. The West on
Trial My Fight for Guyana's
Freedom. Michael Joseph,
London, 1966. Volume 3,
Number 1, Page 2.
JAMAICA COMMITTEE.
Jamaica Papers. London:
1866. Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 8.
JEFFERSON, OWEN. Readings
in the Political Economy of
the Caribbean. Norman
Girvan and Owen Jefferson,
eds. New World Group,
Jamaica, 1971. Volume 4,
Number 3, Page 32.
JOHNSON, CECIL. Communist
China and Latin America,
1959-1967. Columbia Univ.
Press, 1970. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 35.
JOHNSON, DORIS L. The Quiet
Revolution in The Bahamas.
Family Islands Press, Nassau,
1972. Volume 6, Number 3,
Page 40.

KAROL, K.S. Guerrillas in
Power: The Course of The
Cuban Revolution. Hill &
Wang, 1970. Volume 4,
Number 1 and 2, Page 31.
KIEV, ARI Curanderismo:
Mexican American Folk
Psychiatry. Free Press.
Volume 1, Number 2, Page 6.
KNIGHT, FRANKLIN W. Slave
Society in Cuba. University
of Wisconsin Press, 1970.
Volume 5, Number 1,Page 40.

LERIDON, HENRI. Fecondit6 et
Famille en Martinique. Henri
Leridon, Elisaberth Zueker,
Maite Cagenave. Presses
Universitaines de France,
1970. Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 39.

LEVI-STRAUSS, C. Tristes
Tropiques. Librairie Plon,
Paris, 1955. Hutshinson,
London, 1961. Criterion
Books, 1961. Volume 1,
Number 2, Page 10.
LEVINE, BARRY B. Problems
de Desigualdad Social en
Puerto Rico. Rafael Ramirez,
Barry B. Levine & Carlos
Buitrago, eds. Libreria
International, Rio Piedras,
1972. Volume 5, Number 3,
Page 35.
LIEBMAN, ARTHUR.
The Politics of Puerto Rican
University Students. Univ. of
Texas, 1970. Volume 2,
Number 4, Page 11.
LOPEZ, ALFREDO. The Puerto
Rican Papers: Notes On The
Re-Emergence of a Nation.
The Bobbs-Merrill Company,
1973. Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
de LOPEZ, AWILDA PALAU.
En la Calle Estabas: La Vida
Dentro de una Instituci6n
para Menores. Editorial Edil,
Rio Piedras, 1969. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 13.
LOWENTHAL, ABRAHAM F.
The Dominican Intervention.
Harvard University Press,
1972. Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 45.
LOWENTHAL, DAVID. West
Indian Societies. Oxford
Univ. Press, 1972. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 31.

MC CARTNEY, TIMOTHY O.
Neuroses in the Sun.
Executive Ideas, Nassau,
1971. Volume 6, Number 3,
Page 40.
MC CLELLAND, DONALD H.
The Central American
Common Market, Economic
Policies, Economic Growth,
and Choices for the Future.
Praeger Publishers, 1972.
Volume 6, Number 2,
Page 47.
MAC EOIN, GARY. Revolution
Next Door. Holt, Rhinehart
& Winston, 1971. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 42.
MALDONADO DENNIS,
MANUEL. Puerto Rico: Una
Interpretaci6n Hist6rico-
Social. Siglo XXI Editores,
Mexico, 1969. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 3.
MALDONADO DENIS,
MANUEL. La Conciencia
Nacional Puertorriquena:
Pedro Albizu Campos. 218
pp. Siglo XXI Editones,
Mexico, 1972. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 43.
MATHEWS, T. G. Politics and
Economics in the Caribbean.
T.G. Mathews & F.M. Andic,
eds. University of Puerto Rico,
Institute of Caribbean
Studies, 1971. 2nd revised
edition. Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 33.
MESA-LAGO, CARMELO, ed.

Revolutionary Change in
Cuba. University of Pittsburgh
Press, 1971. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 40.
MICHAUX, HENRI Ecuador.
Translated by Robin Magowan
Univ. of Washington, 1970.
Volume 2, Number 4,
Page 12.
MINNIS, EDWARD A. The Best
of Pot Luck. Nassau
Guardian, Nassau, 1972.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 40.
MORGAN, W. Report of W.
Morgan Esq. on His Mission
To Jamaica, 1866. Volume 3,
Number 2, Page 8.

NERUDA, PABLO Residence
On Earth. Translated by
Donald D. Walsh. New
Directions, 1973. Volume 6,
Number 2, Page 38.
NETTLEFORD, REX. Manley
and the New Jamaica.
Selected Speeches and
Writings. 1938-1968. Africana
Publishing Corp., 1971.
Volume 5, Number 2,
Page 44.
NETTLEFORD, REX. Mirror,
Mirror: Identity, Race and
Protest in Jamaica. William
Collins and Sangster Ltd.,
Jamaica, 1970. Volume 4,
Number 4, Page 28.

O'NEILL, EDWARD. Rape of
the American Virgins.
Praeger Publishers, 1972.
Volume 5, Number 2,
Page 37.
OSWALD, J. GREGORY. Soviet
Image of Contemporary Latin
America, A Documentary
History 1960-1968. Robert G.
Carlton and G. Gregory
Oswald, eds. Univ. of Texas
Press, 1970. Volume 4,
Number 4. Page 39.
OSWALD, J. GREGORY.
The Soviet Union and Latin
America, J. Gregory Oswald
and Anthony Strover, eds.
Praeger Publishers, 1970.
Volume 4, Number 4,
Page 39.
OXAAL, IVAR. Black Intel-
lectuals Come to Power:
The Rise of Creole Nationalism
in Trinidad and Tobago.
Schenkman. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 10.
OXAAL, IVAR. Race and
Revolution Consciousness:
A Documentary Interpretation
of the 1970 Black Power
Revolt in Trinidad.
Shenkman, 1971. Volume 5,
Number 1, Page 42.

PALMER, RANSFORD W.
The Jamaican Economy.
Praeger, 1968. Volume 1,
Number 3, Page 12.
PANTON, Rev. The Present
Crisis and How To Meet It.
Panton, Jamaica, 1866.
Volume 3, Number 2, Page 8.

CARMBBFAN IEVIEW /67

PEATTIE, LISA REDFIELD.
The View from the Barrio.
Univ. of Michigan, 1968.
Volume 2, Number 1,
Page 13.
PERUSSE, ROLAND I. A
Strategy for Caribbean
Economic Integration. North
South Press, San Juan, 1971.
Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 41.
PETRAS, JAMES. Politics and
Social Forces in Chilean
Development. Univ. of
California Press, 1969.
Volume 3, Number 2, Page 14.

RAMIREZ, RAFAEL. Problems
de Desigualdad Social en
Puerto Rico. Rafael Ramirez,
Barry B. Levine and Carlos
Buitrago, eds. 178 pp.
Libreria International, Rio
Piedras, 1972. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 35.
RODMAN, HYMAN. Lower Class
Families: The Culture of
Poverty In Negro Trinidad.
Oxford Univ. Press, 1971.
Volume 4, Number 3,
Page 44.
RUBIN, VERA. We Wish to be
Looked Upon: A Study of
the Aspirations of Youth in a
Developing Society. Teachers
College Press, Columbia
University, 1969. Volume 2,
Number 2, Page 10.
RUIZ, ERNESTO. En la Calle
Estabas: La Vida Dentro de
una Instituci6n Para Menores.
Editorial Ediil, Rio Piedras,
1969. Volume 1, Number 4,
Page 13.

SALKEY, ANDREW Havana
Journal. Pelican, 1971.
Volume 4, Number 1 & 2,
Page 40.
SANGER, CLYDE Half a Loaf:
Canada's Semi-role Among
Developing Countries.
Ryerson Press, Toronto,
1969. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2.
SCHWARTZ, MARVIN Puerto
Rico. Grosset & Dunlop.
Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 11.
SEMIDEI, MANUELA. Les Etats-
Unis Et La Revolution
Cubaine. Armand-Colin,
Paris, 1968. Volume 4,
Number 1 & 2, Page 40.
SEMIDEI, MANUELA. Kennedy
et la Revolution Cubaine.
Julliard, Paris, 1972.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 40.
SEWELL, W.G. The Ordeal of
Free Labor in the British
West Indies. New York, 1862.
Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 8.
SIERRA, E. MALDONADO.
The Sober Generation:
Children of Operation
Bootstrap. R. Fern6ndez,
U. von Eckardt, E. Maldonado
Sierra. Univ. of Puerto Rico

68/ CAr?BBCAN rEVIEW

Press, 1969. Volume 1,
Number 1, Page 6.
SINGHAM, A.W. The Hero and
the Crowd in a Colonial
Polity. Yale University Press.
Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 13.
SMITH, T. LYNN Colombia:
Social Structure and The
Process of Development.
Univ. of Florida Press, 1967.
Volume 1, Number 2,
Page 11.
SOLIEN GONZALEZ, NANCIE L.
Black Carib Household
Structure: A Study of
Migration and Modernization.
Univ. Washington, 1969.
Volume 2, Number 3,
Page 6.
SOTO, PEDRO JUAN.
El Francotirador. Editorial
Joaquin M6rtiz, M6xico,
1969. Volume 2, Number 2,
Page 12.
SOTO, PEDRO JUAN. Hot land,
Cold Season. Dell Publishing
Co., 1973. Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 41.
SOTO, PEDRO JUAN Spiks.
Monthly Review Press, 1973.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
STERMER, DUGALD. The Art
of Revolution: Castro's Cuba
1959-1970. McGraw-Hill,
1970. Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 13.
STROVER, ANTHONY.
The Soviet Union and Latin
America. J. Gregory Oswald,
and Anthony Strover, eds.
Praeger Publishers, 1970.
Volume 4, Number 4,
Page 39.
STYCOS, J. MAYONE. Ideology,
Faith, and Family Planning
in Latin America. McGraw-
Hill. Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 37.
SUCHLIKI, JAIME Cuba, Castro
and Revolution. Univ. of
Miami Press, 1972.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 40.
SZULC, TAD, ed. The United
States and The Caribbean.
Prentice-Hall, 1971.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 35.

THOMAS, GORDON. The Day
the World Ended. Stein &
Day, 1969. Volume 1,
Number 4, Page 12.
THOMAS, HUGH Cuba:
The Pursuit of Freedom.
Harper and Row, 1971.
Volume 5, Numberl,Page 40.
THOMAS, PIRI Savior, Savior,
Hold My Hand. Bantam
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Number 4, Page 41.
THOMSEN, MORITZ. Living
Poor. University of
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Volume 2, Number 4, Page 1.

UNDERHILL, REV. DR.
The West Indies. London,

1862. Volume 3, Number 2,
Page 8.

VALENTINE, CHARLES A.
Culture and Poverty. Univ. of
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VERNHES, MONIQUE. Pour La
Guadeloupe Independante.
Monique Vernhes, Jean
Block. Maspero, Paris, 1970.
Volume 5, Number 3, Page 39.
VILLANUEVA, VICTOR.
100 Ahos de Ej6rcito
Peruano: Frustraciones y
Cambios. Editorial Juan
Mejia Baca, Lima, 1972.
Volume 5, Number 1,
Page 44.
VIVO, PAQUITA, ed. The Puerto
Ricans: An Annotated
Bibliography. R.R. Bowker
Co., 1973. Volume 6,
Number 4, Page 41.

WAGENHEIM, KAL, ed.
The Puerto Ricans: A
Documentary History. With
Olga Jim6nez deWagenheim.
Praeger Pub., 1973.
Volume 6, Number 4,
Page 41.
WAGENHEIM, KAL. Puerto Rico:
A Profile. Praeger, 1970.
Volume 3, Number 2, Page 11.
WAGENHEIM, OLGA JIMENEZ
DE The Puerto Ricans: A
Documentary History. With
Kal Wagenheim. Praeger
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Number 4, Page 41.
WARD, S.R. Reflections On The
Garden Rebellion. Jamaica:
1866. Volume 3, Number 2,
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WIARDA, HOWARD.
The Dominican Republic, A

Nation in Transition. Praeger,
1969. Volume 1, Number 3,
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WICNEZEK, MIGUEL S. Latin
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The Brookins Institution,
1972. Volume 5, Number 4,
Page 41.
WILLIAMS, ERIC. Inward
Hunger, The Education of a
prime Minister. Andre
Deutsch, London, 1969.
Volume 3, Number 1,Page 2.
WILKIE, JAMES W. The Mexican
Revolution: Federal
Expenditure and Social
Change Since 1910.
University of California Press,
1970. Volume 4, Number 1
& 2, Page 28.
WILLEMS, EMILIO. Followers
of the New Faith. Vanderbilt
Univ. Press, 1967. Volume 2,
Number 1, Page 11.
WILLIAMS, BYRON Puerto Rico:
Commonwealth, State or
Nation? Volume 4, Page 41.
WITTS, MAX MORGAN.
The Day the World Ended.
Stein & Day, 1969.
Volume 1, Number 4,Page 12.

ZAVALLONI, MARISSA.
We Wish to be Looked Upon:
A Study of the Aspirations
of Youth in a Developing
Society. Teachers College
Press, Columbia Univ, 1969.
Volume 2, Number 2,
ZUCKER, ELISABETH. Fecondite
Et Famille En Martinique.
Henri Leridon, Elisabeth
Zucker, Maite Cazenave.
Presses Universitaires de
France, 1970. Volume 5,
Number 3, Page 39. Page 10.

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	Front Cover
	Front Matter
	Table of Contents
	Main
	Index: Volumes One through Six
	Back Cover

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