<%BANNER%>
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Table of Contents
 Front Matter
 Main
 Back Cover


DLOC



Caribbean Review
ALL VOLUMES CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00095576/00040
 Material Information
Title: Caribbean Review
Physical Description: Serial
Language: English
Creator: Latin American and Caribbean Center, Florida International University
Publisher: Latin American and Caribbean Center, Florida International University
Place of Publication: Miami, FL
Publication Date: 1982
Copyright Date: 1980
 Subjects
Genre: serial   ( sobekcm )
 Record Information
Source Institution: FIU: Special Collections
Holding Location: FIU: Special Collections
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 1553369
System ID: UF00095576:00040

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Table of Contents
        Page 1
    Front Matter
        Page 2
        Page 3
    Main
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text















Vol. XI, No. 3
Three Dollars


The Springtime of Elections; Whatever Happened to Cancan; Why Latin America Is Poor; Absorbing the Caribbean
Labor Surplus; Interviews of Michael Manley and "Comandante Cero."








Certificate

In Latin

American-

Caribbean

Studies


* Over 55 Latin American and
Caribbean related courses in
the University.
* Certificate requirements include:
successful completion of five Latin
American and/or Caribbean
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 as a
Title VI Undergraduate Language
and Area Center.
* Expanded Library holdings in
Latin American-Caribbean
materials.
* Special seminar series offered by
distinguished visiting scholars in
Latin American and Caribbean
Studies.



For further information contact:
Latin American-Caribbean Center
Florida International University
'Imiami Trail
Miami, Florida 33199


Latin American-Caribbean
Studies Faculty
Irma Alonso, Economics
Ewart Archer, International
Relations
Ken I. Boodhoo, International
Relations
Manuel Carvajal, Economics
John Corbett, Public Administration
Grenville Draper, Physical Sciences
Luis Escovar, Psychology
Robert Farrell, Education
Gordon Finley, Psychology
John Jensen, Modern Languages
David Jeuda, Modem Languages
Charles Lacombe, Anthropology
Barry B. Levine, Sociology
Anthony P Maingot, Sociology
James A. Mau, Sociology
Floretin Maurrasse, Physical
Sciences
Ramon Mendoza, Moder
Languages
Raul Moncarz, Economics
Marta Ortiz, Marketing
Mark B. Rosenberg, Political
Science
Reinaldo Sanchez, Moder
Languages
Luis P Salas, Criminal Justice
Jorge Salazar, Economics
Alex Stepick, Anthropology
Mark D. Szuchman, History
William T. Vickers, Anthropology
Maida Watson Breslin, Moder
Languages


Miami Speaker's
Bureau
On Latin America
and the Caribbean
The Latin American and Caribbean
Center of Florida International
University hosts a Speaker's Bureau
for scholars traveling through
Miami. The Bureau serves as a
means for area specialists to share
their experiences and research
during colloquia. A modest
honorarium and per diem expenses
will be provided. Scholars
anticipating travel through Miami
and interested in participating in
the colloquia should contact
Mark B. Rosenberg, Director, Latin
American and Caribbean Center,
FIU, Miami, FL 33199 at least
30 days prior to the anticipated
departure from their home cities.

Occasional Papers

The Center also publishes both an
Occasional Papers Series as well as
a series of Dialogues given by guest
speakers on the campus of FIU.
Please write for details.
















In this issue


The Springtime of Elections
The Status of Democracy in the Caribbean
By Don Bohning, Juan Tamayo, and Bernard
Diederich

Two Hundred Islands of Soledad
International Law and the South Atlantic
By Farrokh Jhabvala

Chagito, The Dreamer
A Puerto Rican Short Story
By MiguelIngelo Rodriguez

Whatever Happened to Cancun?
The 600 Billion Dollar Question
By Pamela Falk

Why Latin America Is Poor
Cultural Factors in Latin Poverty
By Michael Novak

Absorbing the Caribbean
Labor Surplus
The Need for an Indigenous Engine of Growth
By Ransford Palmer


Interviewing Michael Manley
The Role of the Opposition in Jamaica
By Janis Johnson and Robert A. Rankin

Interviewing Eden Pastora
"Comandante Cero"
By Beatriz Parga de Bay6n

The Legacy of Dictatorship: Nicaragua
The Fall of Somoza
Reviewed by Carlos M. Vilas

Haitian Neo-Slavery in Santo Domingo
Bitter Sugar
Reviewed by Paul R. Latortue

In Light's Dominion
The Art of Rafael Soriano
By Ricardo Pau Llosa

Recent Books
An Informative Listing on the Caribbean, Latin
America and Their Emigrant Groups
By Marian Goslinga


Page 14
"The fact of interdepen-
dence is far greater than the
perception of it."


Page 18
"The problem of reaching
the destitute and the poor is
not insuperable. Resources
are available."


Page 30
"Our politics are run by the
Soviet Union, our economy
by Bulgaria, and our de-
fense, by Cuba."


On the cover:
Luci6rnaga en la nochel
Firefly in the Night by
Cuban-born artist Rafael
Soriano (Oil on canvas, 50"
x 60"). See page 38.










Avances en

psicologia

contemporanea

Gordon E. Finley
Gerardo Marin

Las mas significativas y recientes
aportaciones al pensamiento psicol6gico
del continent americano, expuestas por
sus propios autores, se han logrado
conjuntar en este valioso texto que
permitira tanto a profesionales como a
estudiantes de psicologia actualizar
sus conocimientos.
B.F. Skinner, Edwin I. Megargee, Rogelio
Diaz-Guerrero, Ruben Ardila y otros
reconocidos psicologos desarrollan en esta
obra diversos temas cuyo studio result
imprescindible, por igual, para aquellos
que se desempeian en el ambito de la
ciencia de la conduct, y para quienes se
aprestan a hacerlo.
Editorial Trillas, S.A.
Av. 5 de Mayo 43-105, Mexico 1, D.F.
1979





moneda y banca en

america central
Raul Moncarz
El libro esta escrito en un lenguaje claro y
comprensible teniendo en consideraci6n que el
mercado potential para el cual esta proyectado
esta representado por una amplia variedad de
posibles lectores.
El material esta dividido en tres areas. La
primera explore concepts basicos del dinero y
la banca, tales como el lugar del dinero en la
economic, la importancia de la banca y otros
intermediaries financieros.
La segunda parte hace un analisis detallado de
la banca en Centroamerica, la expansion y
contracci6n monetaria y los aspects
econ6micos del sistema bahcario
centroamericano en los ultimos cinco aiios, y
finalmente, se estudia con detalle la banca
central en Centroamerica y sus principles
funciones.
La tercera parte trata en una forma general y
especifica la teoria y la political monetaria
incluyendo aspects internacionales del dinero
y la banca de Centroamerica.
Escuela Bancaria Superior
Centroamericana
Tegucigalpa, D.C., Honduras, CA.
1978

2/cAr?BBeAN rEviEW


CATIBBCAN





SUMMER 1982 Vol. XI. No. 3 Three Dollars


Editor
Barry B. Levine
Associate Editors Art Director
Anthony R Maingot Danine Carey
William T Osborne Design Consultant
Mark B. Rosenberg Juan C. rquiola
Contributing Editors Contributing Artists
Carlos M. Alvarez Eleanor Bonner
Eleanor Bonner
Ricardo Arias T y
Ken I. Boodhoo Terry Cwikla
Jerry Brown Bibliographer
Herbert L. Hiller Marian Goslinga
Antonio Jorge
Gordon K. Lewis Cartographer
James A. Mau Linda M. Marston
Raul Moncarz Circulation Manager
Luis P Salas James E Droste
Mark D. Szuchman
William T Vickers Marketing and Sales Manager
Gregory B. Wolfe Robert A. Geary
Assistant Editor Production Assistant
Judie Faerron Robert Valdivia
Editorial Manager
Beatriz Parga de Bay6n

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 (Barry B. Levine, President;
Andrew R. Banks, Vice President; Kenneth M. Bloom, Secretary). Caribbean Review
receives supporting funds from the Office of Academic Affairs of Florida International
University (Steven Altman, Vice President for Academic Affairs) and the State of Florida
and cooperates with the Latin America and Caribbean Center of FII (Mark B. Rosen-
berg, Director). This public document was promulgated at a quarterly cost of $6,659 or
$1.21 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.
Editorial policy: Caribbean Review does not accept responsibility for any of the views
expressed in its pages. Rather, we accept responsibility for giving such views the
opportunity to be expressed herein. Our articles do not represent a consensus of
opinion-some articles are in open disagreement with others and no reader should be
able to agree with all of them.
Mailing address: Caribbean Review, Florida International University, Tamiami Trail,
Miami, Florida 33199. Telephone (305) 554-2246. Unsolicited manuscripts (articles,
essays, reprints, excerpts, translations, book reviews, poetry, etc.) are welcome, but
should be accompanied by a self-addressed stamped envelope.
Copyright: Contents Copyright 1982 by Caribbean Review, Inc. The reproduction of
any artwork, editorial or other material is expressly prohibited without written permis-
sion from the publisher.
Photocopying: Permission to photocopy for internal or personal use or the intemal or
personal use of specific clients is granted by Caribbean Review, Inc. for libraries and
other users registered with the Copyright Clearance Center (CCC), provided that the
stated fee of $1.00 per copy is paid directly to CCC, 21 Congress Street, Salem, MA
01970. Special requests should be addressed to Caribbean Review, Inc.
Syndication: Caribbean Review articles have appeared in other media in English,
Spanish, Portuguese and German. Editors, please write for details.
Index: Articles appearing in this journal are annotated and in-
dexed in America: History and Life; Development and Welfare Index; Hispanic Ameri-
can Periodicals Index; Historical Abstracts; International Bibliography of Book Reviews;
International Bibliography of Periodical Literature; International Development Ab-
stracts; Public Affairs Information Service Bulletin (PAIS); United States Political Sci-
ence Documents; and Universal Reference System. An index to the first six volumes
appeared in Vol. VII, No. 2, an index to volumes seven and eight, in Vol. IX, No. 2.
Subscription rates: See coupon in this issue for rates. Subscriptions to the Caribbean,
Latin America, Canada, and other foreign destinations will automatically be shipped by
AO-Air Mail. Invoicing Charge: $3.00. Subscription agencies, please take 15i. Back
Issues: Back numbers still in print are purchasable at $5.00 each. A list of those still
available appears elsewhere in this issue. 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: ISSN 0008-6525; Library of Congress Classifi-
cation Number: AP6, C27; Library of Congress Card Number: 71-16267; Dewey
Decimal Number: 079.7295.








Mobility

and Integration

in Urban Argentina

CORDOBA IN THE LIBERAL ERA

By Mark D. Szuchman

Between the 1870s, when the great influx
of European immigrants began, and the
start of World War I, Argentina underwent a
radical alteration of its social composition
and patterns of economic productivity.
Mark Szuchman, in this groundbreaking
study, examines the occupational, resi-
dential, educational, and economic patterns
of mobility of some four thousand men,
women, and children who resided in
Cordoba, Argentina's most important
interior city, during this changeful era.
The use of record linkage as the essential
research method makes this work the first
book on Argentina to follow this very
successful research methodology employed
by modern historians.

290 pages, $19.95




I DA I =
University of Texas Press 083
POST OFFICE BOX 7819 AUSTIN, TEXAS 78712
Please send copies of Mobility and Integration in
Urban Argentina at $ 19.95 ea. Texas residents add 5% sales
tax.
D Check Enclosed ] VISA O MasterCharge
Credit card no. Exp. date
Signature
Name (print)
Address
City/State Zip code ---


Barry B. Levine shatters
the myth of the victimized
immigrant.



BENJY


LOPEZ

A Picaresque Tale
of Emigration and Return

Using the first-person technique pioneered by Oscar
Lewis, noted sociologist Barry B. Levine records and
analyzes the life story of a Puerto Rican emigrant, "one
of the most colorful characters to make an appearance in
sociological literature...Barry Levine has that increasingly
rare gift, the sociological ear. In this book, we have the
result of his listening."-Peter Berger.
"A labor of love for Puerto Rico and its plight, and a
fine piece of scholarship."-Ed Vega, Nuestro "Levine
has rescued Third World man from indignity...I believe
that few works will better demonstrate the circumstances
of the Puerto Rican in New York than this one."-Miguel
Barnet, Caribbean Review "Highly recommended"-
Joanna Walsh, Library Journal "Excellent..."-Frank
Fernandez, Revista Interamericana "Valuable research,
excellent writing"-Raymond E. Crist, Latin America in
Books "Estupendo..."-Carlos Alberto Montaner,
Spanish International Network "A rare work about the
Puerto Rican diaspora..."-Gerald Guinness, Americas
"Interesting and refreshing..."-Aaron Segal, Times of
the Americas.
"Opens the reader's eyes to the problems and
challenges, the pain and frustration of life as a Puerto
Rican in the big metropolis."-Joseph P. Fitzpatrick,
S.J., Contemporary Sociology "A good read...but above
and beyond its literary attributes, it stands on its own as a
well-conceived, thoroughly researched, and solid
study...A significant contribution to the scientific analysis
of the causes and consequences of Puerto Rican
emigration and return."-Angel Calder6n Cruz,
Caribbean Studies "A stupendous book that only a
sociologist/anthropologist willing and unafraid to let a
little humanism and common sense creep into his study
could write. A very human document about a very human
being."-Gary Brana-Shute, The New West Indies
Guide.

$12.95 at bookstores, or direct from the publisher
(212) 593-7083 Visa and MasterCard Accepted

BASIC BOOKS, INC
10 East 53rd Street, New York 10022


CAIBBEAN PFEVEW/3















IB



"'*


Election posters: Colombia and the Domin-
ican Republic.


~











The Springtime of



Elections


The Status of Democracy in the Caribbean

By Don Bohning, Juan O. Tamayo and Bernard Diederich


Although no one has been paying
much attention, democracy is alive
and well around the Caribbean
basin, if exercising the right to vote is a
proper barometer. While El Salvador elec-
tions for a constituent assembly became a
media event of worldwide proportions be-
cause of Washington's preoccupation with
the tiny Central American country, voters
elsewhere in the region were casting ballots
with amazing regularity and considerable
significance.
Beginning with Costa Rica on Feb. 7,
including El Salvador on March 28, and
concluding with Mexico on July 4, national
elections took place in nine of the more
than 30 countries and territories that fall
within that amorphous geographic entity
known as the Caribbean basin. In addition
to the three named, voters also went to the
polls in Guatemala, the Dominican Re-
public, St. Lucia, the Bahamas, the Dutch
Antilles and Colombia.
For the most part they were elections
whose significance was submerged by a
combination of the roar of guns and rhet-
oric of the Falklands War in the South Atlan-
tic, the Reagan administration's escalation
of the Central American crisis to the level of
East-West confrontation, and a media men-
tality known in the trade as "coups and
earthquakes" in which the spectacular
takes precedence over the significant. An
election, especially one untroubled by vio-
lence or bloodshed, is a mundane happen-
ing condemned to the back pages even
when its longterm impact on the nation far
outstrips that of a passing natural disaster.
How many readers know, for example,
that Colombia, vying with Argentina to be
the largest Spanish-speaking country in
South America, held an election May 30 in
which an underdog Conservative Party can-
didate defeated a former Liberal Party presi-
dent principally because of a split in the
Liberal Party ranks? Not many, if one is to
judge by the coverage it received. Of the
major US media, not even The New York

Foreign correspondents, Don Bohning and
Juan O. Tamayo cover Latin America for The
Miami Herald, Bernard Diederich covers the
area for Time magazine.


Times, universally regarded as the "news-
paper of record," staffed the story with its
own correspondents. The only one to do so
was Time magazine but which has yet to
record the election outcome in its pages.
The principal problem, of course, was the
War in the South Atlantic which had
stretched media resources to the limit and
by the time of the Colombian and Baha-
mian elections was then at the end of its
second month, with interest peaking as a
climax neared. Other significant elections
overwhelmed by the Falklands War in-
cluded the tiny English-speaking Eastern
Caribbean island of St. Lucia, the Bahamas
and the Dominican Republic.
In the Dominican Republic, incumbent
president Antonio Silvestre Guzman kept
his promise and became the first elected
president in his country to voluntarily not
seek a second term. But he did not live to
complete this first cycle of power. Just 43
days before he was to hand over power to
his successor he took his own life. On Guz-
man's death, Vice-PresidentJacobo Majluta
was sworn in as president and both he and
the military chiefs swore to uphold the con-
stitution and hand over power to President-
elect Salvador Jorge Blanco on August 16.
Stunned Dominicans heard PRD Secre-
tary-General Jose Francisco Pefia G6mez
eulogize Guzman, saying he had killed him-
self (in a palace bathroom) in an act of
"supreme responsibility, of civic courage, of
patriotic shame" because Pefia said he had
discovered that some of his aides were cor-
rupt. "There is no doubt," he explained, that
Guzman had shot himself to "leave final
proof that he was an honest and serious
man." Placing the emphasis on "honor"
tends to put political suicide in a different
light in Latin America. It was after Guzman
had received a Catholic burial that Pefia
G6mez delivered his speech declaring the
president had taken his life as an act of
honor. Guzman, he claimed, had given his
life for both party and patria. As tragic as
this ending was, it did demonstrate the new-
found Dominican democracy. Said a Do-
minican newsman: "If this had happened a
few years ago, the generals would have
been pushing and shoving to reach the pal-
ace first and occupy the presidency."


That democratic strength was reinforced
by the fifth consecutive election since the
1965 civil war and US intervention. It was an
election in which the cast of characters were
mostly old antagonists of a bloody past
when bullets, not ballots counted. It was the
first real election by television (the Domin-
ican Republic today boasts five color chan-
nels) starring live and on video the principal
players of the 1965 revolt which brought
massive intervention of United States
troops, ordered ashore by President Lyndon
B. Johnson to prevent "another Cuba."
Communists and caudillos and rabid anti-
communists all campaigned in a civilized
manner to win the hearts and minds of the
5.5 million Dominican people. Together the
extreme right and extreme left received less
than 5% of the vote.
In St. Lucia, voters returned conservative
former Prime Minister John Compton to
office after nearly four years of chaotic rule
by a divided left-of-center government.
In the Bahamas, Prime Minister Lynden
Pindling's Progressive Liberal Party scored
its fifth straight parliamentary election vic-
tory. Pindling remains the premier of
elected leaders in the hemisphere, having
headed the island government since Janu-
ary 1968. He ranks behind only Paraguay's
Alfredo Stroessner and Cuba's Fidel Castro
in terms of longevity among hemisphere
heads of government. More than anything,
however, the Bahamas election was a dem-
onstration of faith in the electoral system
with more than 90% of the islands' eligible
voters turning out at the polls.
The Falklands War was not the only prob-
lem, however, in relegating election stories
to the inside pages, since rightly or wrongly,
the media often is guided in its pursuit of
stories and the emphasis it gives them by
the priority Washington assigns to them.
And since coming to office in January
1981, Reagan administration policy has
tended to portray the Caribbean basin as a
region trapped in a tug-of-war between East
and West, leaving little room in the news-
pages for reports on democracy around the
region.
The Soviets and Cuba, US policy holds,
have been stoking the flames of insurrec-
tion around the Caribbean, if not to recruit


CAI?BBrAN r VIEW//5









new members for the Eastern bloc at least
to keep Washington busy fighting fires in its
own back yard. Thus the rush of aid to El
Salvador. Thus attempts to resume military
aid to Guatemala. And thus the plan for a
$350 million Caribbean Basin Initiative de-
signed primarily to help countries of their
region strengthen their defenses against
Marxist penetration.
Lost in the emphasis on East-West con-
frontation and the penchant for "coups and
earthquakes" are some hard facts: Of the
nine elections in the first six months of
1982, only one, El Salvador, received front-
page attention in the media and that was
not even a presidential election. Three of the
elections were won by parties more conser-
vative than their predecessors in power,
continuing a trend in the region that dates
to late 1980. The others, for the most part,
either returned incumbent governments to
power or changed governments with no
measurable change in ideological direc-
tion. Not one shifted to the left. Guatemala's
presidential elections, blatantly rigged on
behalf of a conservative army general, were
annulled in a coup by a group of young and
moderate army officers who later installed a
born-again Christian as the new president.
He has promised new, and honest elections,
although at an unspecified time that seems
to set put further back with each subse-
quent pronouncement. El Salvador,
wracked by a bloody civil war, saw a record
turnout of 1.5 million voters for its March 28
elections and gave four rightist parties a
solid majority in the constituent assembly.
Even Haiti, which has the longest-run-
ning family dynasty in power in the region,
seemed to be catching election fever. Not
since Dr. Francois (Papa Doc) Duvalier
came to power in 1957 have there been
presidential elections in Haiti. But in his
April 22 speech commemorating the anni-
versary of his assuming the presidency-for-
life in 1971 upon his father's death, Jean-
Claude Duvalier declared he had decided to
"decree free and honest municipal elec-
tions." While Jean-Claude gave no date for
elections, it is considered a first step and a
positive one by the United States which
would like to see a full range of elections in
Haiti.
Members of the US congressional black
caucus, recently on a visit to Haiti, acknowl-
edged his statement on elections and were
eager to see the promise materialize.

El Salvador
In the most important of the elections, more
than one million Salvadorans turned out
under a hail of bullets to vote in March 28
elections for a constituent assembly that if
nothing else showed the peoples' driving
desire for a peaceful end to the civil war.
There are questions-and maybe there
will always be questions-about the exact
number of voters, whether or not the vote


represented a rejection of the leftist guer-
rillas and even who really won. But with 100
official observers from abroad and 800
journalists reporting, there is no doubt the
elections and the outcome represented the
first free and fair elections held in El Sal-
vador since the 1930s. There is also little
question that the large turnout-officially
1.5 million people-undermined, perhaps
fatally, claims by leftist guerrillas that they
represent the majority of the Salvadoran
people.
The guerrillas claim the government put
subtle pressure on people to take part in the



More than one million
Salvadorans turned out
under a hail of bullets to
vote.


elections by marking the identification
cards of those who voted. Such marks, ac-
cording to the rumors, would later be re-
quired for almost any official transaction.
Whether or not the voters felt this pressure,
the rebels themselves put far more pressure
on people to abstain from voting, by direct
death threats as well as a nationwide offen-
sive, launched a week before the balloting,
that left at least 200 dead.
But the elections seem to have failed in
two important aspects: They did not in-
crease international support for the Sal-
vadoran government, and, instead of
making it easier for the government to
govern, may have in fact complicated the
nation's bizarre political alignments. The
four rightist parties that won a 32-seat ma-
jority in the 60-seat assembly consider
themselves the winners of the balloting and
quickly tried to grab the power to rule the
country. But the liberal Christian Demo-
crats of former President Jose Napoleon
Duarte argued that they were the victors,
with a 28-seat bloc in the assembly, and
along with their allies in Washington,
sought to retain a share of the power.
The armed forces, showing they still are
the real power behind the throne, stepped
into the breach and proposed a group of
five potential compromise candidates, from
which the Constituent Assembly elected in-
dependent banker Alvaro Magana as in-
terim president of the country. Angered by
the US and army pressures, the rightist ma-
jority in the assembly later elected Roberto
d'Aubuisson, head of the ultra-rightist Na-
tionalist Republican Alliance, as president
of the chamber. The bickering underlined
the growth of the right into a legally orga-
nized force that has further complicated the
nation's weird political lineup and could un-
dermine the program of progressive re-


forms launched under the previous Duarte-
military government.
The rightist assemblymen already have
adopted a string of measures that Duarte
charged effectively killed most of the am-
bitious land reform program. The rightists
denied the allegation, but US congressmen
were sufficiently worried to knock off $100
million from a military aid package in a
clear warning that US aid to the guerrilla-
besieged nation was still chained to con-
tinued progressive reforms.

The Dominican Republic
In less violent but almost as important elec-
tions, the Dominican Republic terminated
43 years of "caudillismo" and went to the
polls May 16 balloting what seemed to
mark the permanent rooting of democracy
in the nation. It was a radical change for a
country that suffered under 31 years of Tru-
jillo dictatorship, the 1965 civil war and in-
tervention by 27,000 US troops and, finally,
another 12 years of rule by Balaguer. But
Trujillo has been dead since 1961 and the
two powerful figures that arose out of the
ashes of his era, Balaguer and Bosch, suf-
fered defeats in the elections.
Balaguer, president from 1966to 1978, is
now 74 years old and virtually blind, and his
conservative Reformist Party is deeply split
over who should succeed him. Bosch at 72
proved he is still a formidable politician
even though his party came in a distant
third, it was a remarkable showing for the
mercurial leader who quit his own party-
the PRD-in 1973 and then began from
scratch with a new party he calls the Domin-
ican Liberation Party. It was also a remark-
able performance for the ex-president
(1962-63) who in the early 1970s had es-
poused a thesis of "dictatorship with popu-
lar backing" which he proposed as a
substitute for representative democracy
that he felt had failed to help the great mass
of people.
The winner by an overwhelming margin
was Salvador Jorge Blanco, a 55-year-old
politician of a type that seems to be on the
rise around the Caribbean-modestly lib-
eral, committed to fair government and sur-
rounded by young technocrats who
promise "economic democracy" and a
new generation" in power.
Jose Francisco Pefia G6mez un-
disputedly the Dominican Republic's most
astute politician as Secretary General of the
PRD and a leader in the Socialist Interna-
tional, swept Santo Domingo as mayoral
candidate. The city has grown to over a
million from 460,000 in the past 17 years.
On a tense Saturday afternoon in April,
1965, it was Pefia who stirred the city with a
call over Radio Santo Domingo for revolt
against the military-backed triumvirate and
the restoration of the Bosch government.
Jorge Blanco was to become the Attorney
General in the constitutional government


6/CAI?BBEAN FETIEW









which the backers of Bosch set up in the
downtown section of the city. The Domin-
ican Republic has come a long way in 17
years, but, as PRD leaders claim, the US
intervention which cost a loss of lives, both
Dominican and American, only delayed the
democratic process.
They were all there. Even Rafael Bonilla
Aybar, the Radio-TV commentator who had
been a prime campaigner for the overthrow
of Juan Bosch in 1965 whom he painted a
"communist" Besides the ex-general Elias
Wessin y Wessin, the onetime rabid anti-
communist instrumental in the overthrow
of Bosch and opposed to his restoration by
the 1965 revolt, there was youthful Narcisco
Isa Conde candidate of the Dominican
Communist Party. Isa Conde and his
brother had figured prominently on the US
government official list of 53 communists,
whom they cited as involved in the 1965
revolt to justify the intervention of 27,000
troops. Today the Communist Party office is
no longer clandestine and in fact has a large
luminous sign over its portal in a little red
brick house on Avenida Independencia op-
posite the Union Church which is fre-
quented by US Embassy personnel of the
Protestant faith.
Rafael "Fafa" Tavares, a June 14th move-
ment fighter who raised his rifle and threat-
ened the Americans in 1965 during an
anniversary day speech, appeared middle
aged and mature in his posters as candi-
date of the socialist groups. There was no
end to nostalgia. A lesson might be drawn
from yesterday's El Salvador. Bonilla Aybar
was quick to tell a TV audience there had
been irregularities in the vote, but few paid
him any heed. The Dominican Republic
has no shortage of commentators, now.
The military were at last under civilian con-
trol and ballots had definitely replaced
bullets.
The PRD wound up with 46.7% of the
more than 1.7 million votes, a record turn-
out, and control of the 120-seat House of
Assembly. Balaguer won 39.1% of the vote
and Bosch managed 9.8%. There was no
violence on election day and no repeat of
the 1978 balloting, when the military
stopped the vote count as it became clear
that a victory was in store for Guzman and
the PRD. The count was resumed under
heavy pressure from the Carter administra-
tion and Guzman served out his four-year
term without further challenges from the
military. The 1982 vote count went
smoothly and by midnight the avenue that
hugs Santo Domingo's coast had turned
into a mile-long dance hall with thousands
of "jorgeblanquistas" celebrating what
one radio commentator called "this na-
tional feast of democracy"
"I want to congratulate all Dominicans,
because today we achieved the final consol-
idation of Democracy," said Guzman. But
dangers lurk in the future of the Dominican


Republic, dangers that everyone senses
could undermine the country's young and
still fragile democracy. The economy, while
stronger than most of those around Latin
America, is on its knees and causing prob-
lems that ultimately could spill over into the
political arena. Unemployment stands at
about 30%, inflation hit 8.5% last year and
the world price of sugar-the industry that
the Dominican Republic lives and dies by-
has been around 9 cents a pound, half the
18 cents it costs to produce.
On the political field, the defeats of Bal-
aguer and Bosch have left the PRD as the
lone powerful party-and the one that will
be blamed should Jorge Blanco fail in his
attempts to rekindle the economy. Unless
the PR and the PLD pick up their socks
before the 1986 elections, the PRD could
easily tum into a Dominican version of the
Mexican Institutional Revolutionary Party
(PRI), which has won every single major
election over the past 53 years.

Mexico
The PRI did it again July 4 and gave Miguel
de la Madrid an overwhelming election
mandate to succeed President Jos6 L6pez
Portillo when his six-year, non-renewable
term expires Dec. 1. It was an easy victory
for the PRI and de la Madrid, a Harvard-
educated economist who broke almost
every mold for the Mexican presidency by
attacking rampant government corruption,
speaking English and touting his wife's
Catholic activism in a nation that is officially
anti-church and intellectually anti-Ameri-
can. Eight candidates from the left and right
opposed de la Madrid, taking advantage of
a string of political reforms adopted in 1977
by L6pez Portillo, who ran unopposed in
1976, to give opposition parties a louder
voice in the nation's political life. But the real
contest on July 4 was not for the peoples'
sympathies but for their votes-half a cen-


tury of PRI victories fueled widespread
voter apathy-and the unity of the PRI, tom
by splits between de la Madrid's team of
young "technocrats" and the "old pols" fac-
tion led by former Interior Minister Pedro
Ojeda Paullada.
De la Madrid will have to try to patch
those splits at the same time that he grap-
ples with an economy that overdosed on oil
profits and exploded into 50% inflation, a
50% peso devaluation and a $60 billion for-
eign debt, while doing little to erase the 50%
unemployment and underemployment
plaguing the nation of 70 million people.
Landless peasants have been growing in-
creasingly restless and membership in in-
dependent labor unions has shot up
despite the efforts of the PRI-afilliated Mex-
ican Workers Confederation. Fidel Velaz-
quez, the venerable head of the CTM and
the man who kept labor in line as workers
saw the buying power of their salaries dwin-
dle, is in his late 70s and no likely successor
is in sight.
The poor are becoming increasingly dis-
appointed over the failure of the oil money
to trickle down to their level, the middle
class has shrunk along with the economy
and increasing numbers of students are
graduating from universities, permeated
with the PRI's leftist revolutionary rhetoric,
only to find there are no jobs for them. "The
biggest question these days is not what de
la Madrid can do," said one Treasury Minis-
try official before the elections. "The biggest
question is whether his will be the last
peaceful sexenlo-or the first violent
sexenlo."

Costa Rica
In Costa Rica, the Feb. 7 elections saw
voters keep up a 34 year near tradition of
alternating the four-year presidential terms
between two middle-of-the-road parties-
Continued on page 40


CARBBEAN PCVIew/7












Two Hundred Islands of



Soledad

International Law of the South Atlantic

By Farrokh Jhabvala


The crash of guns shattered the tran-
quility of the remote reaches of the
South Atlantic in April of this year as a
149 year dispute between Argentina and
Great Britain over the Falklands/Malvinas
Islands suddenly lurched from diplomacy
to a test of arms. The military confrontation
and subsequent conflict were widely por-
trayed and perceived in emotional terms as
each party sought to internationalize the
dispute and win the propaganda battle for
world opinion and sympathy. On the one
side the conflict was described as a na-
tionalistic and anti-colonial struggle to rid
the Western hemisphere of anachronistic
extra-hemispheric presence; on the other,
as the effort to deter aggression and to save
the world from expansionist, authoritarian
ambitions.
These tactics appear to have received
only mixed success; witness the lukewarm
OAS and non-aligned resolutions or the
grudging and reluctant decisions of the Eu-
ropean Community with their early termi-
nation of sanctions. Nonetheless, the
emotions raised by the conflict and the
pulsating drama of the military engage-
ments have indeed served to displace tem-
porarily from public view any discussion
about the respective rights of the parties.
Any settlement of the dispute, however,
will have to reckon with the legal positions
of the parties, even though other considera-
tions-political, economic, military, strate-
gic and the personalities of the leaders
involved-are also likely to play a part.

The Islands and their History
The Falklands lie roughly 300 miles east of
the southern tip of South America and the
eastern end of the Straits of Magellan. There
are two main islands, East and West Falk-
land, and about 200 much smaller islands,
the total land area being about 4,700
square miles, somewhat larger than that of
Jamaica, and a third again as large as
Puerto Rico. South Georgia lies about 700
miles east by southeast of Port Stanley or
about 1,000 miles from Argentina. The
South Sandwich Islands lie about 1,200

Farrokh Jhabvala teaches International Rela-
tions at Florida International University.


miles from Port Stanley in the same general
direction as South Georgia; that is, about
1,500 miles from Argentina. The Falklands
and South Georgia are inhabited. The
South Sandwich Islands are unable on their
own to support habitation although Thule
Island has a weather station.
By letters patent issued formally in 1908
and amended in 1917 Great Britain de-
clared as dependencies of the Falkland Is-
lands all territories included within the
sector bounded by the meridians 20W and
80W, and extending from the South Pole to
the latitude of 50S between 20W and
50W, and up to 580S between 50W and
80W. In other words, all territories that Brit-
ain either claimed or possessed in the At-
lantic and in Antarctica south of 50oS and
excepting the Falklands themselves were
constituted as the Falklands dependencies.
In 1962 Britain reconstituted these territo-
ries so that only South Georgia, the South
Sandwich Islands and some minor out-
croppings such as the Shag and Clerke
Rocks remained Falklands dependencies.
All territory claimed by Britain south of 60S
latitude were formed into the British Antarc-
tic Territory, administered from the Falk-
lands' capital, Port Stanley. (The Antarctic
Treaty of 1959 applies to the area south of
latitude 60S.)
Much uncertainty surrounds the discov-
ery of the Falkland Islands. Argentina
claims that the islands were discovered by
members of the expedition of Magallanes in
1520. The British claim that the islands
were first sighted by an Englishman, John
Davis, in 1592. A Dutchman, Sebald de
Weert, also sighted the islands in 1600. The
relatively underdeveloped state of cartogra-
phy and navigational techniques of the time
increase the uncertainty surrounding the
various claims of discovery, for the loca-
tions of the islands supposedly sighted vary
considerably. It appears to be undisputed,
however, that an Englishman, John Strong,
made the first recorded landing on the Falk-
lands in 1690.
The first attempt at settlement was led by
the French navigator Louis-Antoine de
Bougainville, who founded a French colony
at Port Louis on East Falkland in 1764. In
the following year the British founded Port


Egmont, either on Saunders Island or on
West Falkland. Spain, which claimed the
islands on the basis of the Papal Bull Inter
Caetera of 1493, the Treaty of Tordesillas
and discovery, obtained the cession in
1767 of Port Louis by France in return for
monetary compensation. They changed
the name to Puerto Soledad.
In 1770 Spain forced the British from
Port Egmont but, apparently unwilling to go
to war with Britain over the Falklands,
agreed to return Port Egmont to Britain.
The British garrison returned to Port Eg-
mont in 1771 but was withdrawn in 1774,
apparently for reasons of economy. They
left behind a plaque claiming sovereignty
over the Falklands for Britain.
Spain maintained its settlement at Puerto
Soledad until 1806 when the uprising in
Buenos Aires province broke out. All Span-
ish residents were pulled out in 1811. In
1816 the United Provinces of the Rio de la
Plata claimed to succeed Spain in the Falk-
lands and took possession of Puerto Sol-
edad in 1820. The Buenos Aires govern-
ment appointed a governor for the
Falklands in 1823 but was unable to estab-
lish a settlement there.
Three years later a naturalized citizen of
Argentina, Louis Vernet, was able to estab-
lish a private settlement in the Falklands,
and in 1829 he was named Commandant
of the Political and Military Commandancy
of the Malvinas Islands. Great Britain had
not protested the Argentine actions till now
but they did protest strongly the steps taken
in 1829. By December 1832 a British
squadron had taken possession of Port Eg-
mont and in January 1833 it forced the
surrender of the Argentine garrison at
Puerto Soledad.
There is no indication whatsoever that
during this period, from the sixteenth cen-
tury through the year 1833, the Falkland
Islands/Malvinas included South Georgia
and the Sandwich Islands. The precise
longitude of the global division of
1493-1494 between Spain and Portugal is
somewhat uncertain-to Spain all territo-
ries west of the longitude 100 leagues west
of the Azores and Cape Verde-but even the
longitude most favorable to Spain would
place South Georgia and the South Sand-


8/CAI?BBEAN Pv1IEW


























which Islands outside the Spanish sphere.
South Georgia appears to have been first
sighted by the Portuguese navigator Ves-
pucci in 1502 and subsequently by a British
ship in 1675.
The first interest in these islands was ex-
pressed by Captain James Cook who
landed on South Georgia in 1775 and for-
mally annexed it in the name of George Ill.
Captain Cook also discovered the South
Sandwich Islands on the same voyage. By
the 1908 Letters Patent the British govern-
ment formally annexed both South Georgia
and the South Sandwich Islands.
There is no indication that Spain ever
voiced a claim to these territories which,
from the very beginning have been ex-
clusively in British possession. The first Ar-
gentine claim to South Georgia dates only
from 1927; and it made no claim to the
South Sandwich Islands before 1948.

The Interests Involved
Contrary to popular belief the dispute and
the recent hostilities are not over merely
barren, windswept, inhospitable and re-
mote specks of land which support more
sheep than humans. That is not to deny that
states and their leaders are altogether capa-
ble of acting irrationally, precipitously and to
further personal ambition rather than state
interest. It appears, for instance, that the
Argentine regime's decision to take the is-
lands militarily was prompted in part by the
necessity of deflecting the mounting do-
mestic criticism of thejunta. Furthermore,
the Argentine leaders appear to have badly
miscalculated the reactions of Great Britain
(under Prime Minister Thatcher), of the
United States, and of the Third World in
general. It is also entirely possible that in a
"more-nationalistic-than-thou" atmo-
sphere it may have been impossible for
cooler heads and rational calculations to
prevail in Buenos Aires. Similarly, it appears
that Britain, too, misperceived Argentine in-
tentions prior to April 2nd. Nonetheless, the
important fact remains that the Falklands
and their dependencies are not insignificant
ocean outcroppings over which it would be
reckless to fight.
The Falkland Islands have, first, a strate-
gic importance of their own. Apart from the


Panama Canal, the only feasible maritime
link between the Atlantic and Pacific
Oceans is the Drake Passage. Even in nor-
mal and peaceful times some of the larger
tankers have to use the route around Cape
Horn. The Falklands, situated in a position
to control the Drake Passage-and the
Straits of Magellan-thus have a strategic,
military and maritime significance that can
hardly be ignored. Indeed, naval units from


the Falklands fought important sea battles
in both World Wars.
Geography also lends a second level of
importance to the Falklands and their de-
pendencies, for they hold the key to the
resolution of conflicting Antarctic claims.
Britain claims the sector of Antarctica
bounded by the meridians 20W and 80W
and extending from the South Pole to the
latitude of 60S. Argentina claims the sector


CARBBEAN ~liWE/9


I I










of Antarctica bounded by the meridians
25W (the eastern extremity of the South
Sandwich Islands) and 74W, and extend-
ing from the South Pole to the latitude of
60S. The Argentine claim, made some
thirty-four years after Britain's, overlaps in
its entirety the British claim.
If Britain were to lose the Falklands and
their dependencies, and the support bases
these islands provide, its position in Ant-
arctica would be practically, albeit not le-
gally, impossible to maintain. On the other
hand, Argentina's claim to Antarctic terri-
tory, being based largely on proximity and
geological continuity, could hardly survive
any interruptions of the alleged continuity
or proximity brought about by the interposi-
tion of British sovereignty. (This condition
also explains in part Argentine inflexibility in
its dispute with Chile, over the Beagle Chan-
nel Islands.) Furthermore, without the Falk-
lands, South Georgia and the South
Sandwich Islands Argentina's Antarctic
claims on the declared bases of proximity
and geological continuity would be unsup-
portable except perhaps in the sliver be-
tween 74W and 64W. And here, the
overlapping Chilean claim would have to be
faced.
Antarctica is of strategic significance for
Argentina-as well as for Chile, New Zea-
land and Australia. For these Southern
hemisphere states, as John Hanessian Jr.
has noted, "the Antarctic is not a distant
frigid ice mass, but a nearby continent on
which hostile military activity could easily
threaten national security. Australia for ex-
ample has for some years been uneasy re-
garding Soviet Antarctic intentions."
Scientific interests in Antarctica are un-
questionable and at least twelve states
maintain year-round or summer stations on
that continent. Interest has existed in other
states; in recent years Brazil, Peru and Uru-
guay have appointed committees to investi-
gate the possibilities of making claims and
undertaking activity in Antarctica. The sig-
nificance of a scientific presence for exist-
ing or future territorial claims has not been
missed and it is perhaps safe to state that
while neither the United States nor the So-
viet Union has yet made a formal territorial
claim in Antarctica each would rest such
claims, were they to be made, to a large
extent upon their scientific presence there.
While denying British Antarctic claims
based upon "occupation" Argentina itself
has argued that its presence at the Laurie
Island meteorological station substantiates
its claim to Antarctic territory.
Though the economic possibilities of
Antarctica are highly speculative at present
it would be wrong to conclude that states
consequently have little or no interest in
Antarctica. The possibility of discovering
commercially viable pools of oil, gas or hard
minerals, the enormous quantities of krill
that are known to exist awaiting only further


development of suitable uses, the demon-
strated feasibility of trans-Antarctic flights,
and the continuing interest of some states
in Antarctic whaling cumulatively hold out
the hope of significant economic gain,
however distant, for states that have a claim
or a foothold in Antarctica. The develop-
ment under international law of 200-mile
exclusive economic zones strengthens and
legitimizes extensive claims by states to re-
sources of the oceans. A convention to
manage and conserve Antarctic marine liv-
ing resources was concluded in 1980 by
the parties to the 1959 Antarctic Treaty, and


The Falklands and their
dependencies are not
insignificant ocean
outcroppings over which it
would be reckless to fight.


a set of recommendations on Antarctic
mineral resources was adopted by the
same parties in 1981.
Finally, the nationalistic and jingoistic
forces that are universally aroused over ter-
ritorial claims and disputes must be reck-
oned with in order to understand the
British-Argentine dispute. States do not part
with territory they consider part of their na-
tional patrimony even if it be sparcely inhab-
ited and of little tangible value. As Argentina
has demonstrated, the "recovery" of pre-
sumed national territory may well be a na-
tional objective handed down through the
generations and kept alive by being made
part of the national culture. Indeed, the test
of one's nationalism may be the extent of
one's commitment to such an objective.
Political scientists would add that pres-
tige must be a factor, too. For, a weak British
response to Argentina's military takeover of
the Falklands could have been perceived
globally as an inability and/or an unwilling-
ness to defend British interests and com-
mitments with possible ramifications
everywhere. Similarly, once the Argentine
junta had decided to move militarily any
withdrawal without a fight could be seen to
indicate that they were not too serious
about "recovering" the islands. And, apart
from the domestic consequences for both
governments flowing from such percep-
tions, the consequences for other interna-
tional situations of conflict, say with Chile or
Guatemala, could have been grave. This
compendium of interests represents the
setting in which the decisions of the two
parties to resort to force over the Falkland
Islands were taken. The decisions them-
selves plainly carried the stamp of the per-
sonalities involved and, perhaps, of haste
and miscalculation.


The Dependencies
Argentina's claim to the Falkland Islands
and their dependencies rests essentially on
two bases: first, the putative legitimacy of
Spain's title to the islands and Argentina's
succession to that title after independence
in 1810; and, second, Argentina's title to the
islands based upon its own actions between
1810 and 1833.
Spain's title to the islands is argued on
several grounds: the Papal Bulls, the treaty
of Tordesillas, discovery and possession of
the islands and the acquiescence of other
European states in Spain's claims. Argen-
tine succession to Spain in the Vice-royalty
of the River Plate (the doctrine of uti pos-
sidetis) is argued as conferring upon Ar-
gentina all the rights of Spain in that area,
including title to the Falkland Islands. Fi-
nally, it is argued that Argentina was illegally
and forcefully deprived of the islands and
that it has never accepted, nor will it accept,
this loss of territory.
The above line of argument can hardly
apply to the dependencies, which therefore
must be treated separately. South Georgia
and the South Sandwich Islands are, re-
spectively, 700 and 1,200 miles from the
Falklands. The most favorable interpreta-
tion from Spain's point of view of the vari-
ous pronouncements and agreements of
the period 1493-1494 would still place
these islands in the non-Spanish sphere.
There is nothing to show that Spain ex-
pressed even the slightest interest in them;
certainly nothing that would approach the
level of manifestation of Spain's interest in
the Falklands.
The islands of the dependencies were
probably discovered by the British. Much
more important, however, is the fact that
these islands were claimed and peacefully
"occupied" by Great Britain from 1775 on-
wards without even the slightest protest
from Spain. Even after Argentine indepen-
dence the new republic neither objected to
British sovereignty over the dependencies
nor made any effort at claiming them. The
stark contrast between Spain's and Argen-
tina's approach to the Falklands proper with
that towards the dependencies can hardly
have been greater.
The first Argentine claim to South Geor-
gia appears in 1927 and that to the South
Sandwich Islands in 1948. In other words,
the first claim to the dependencies was
made after 152 years of uninterrupted Brit-
ish sovereignty and in the absence of any
other prior claim either by Spain or Argen-
tina. As far as South Georgia and the South
Sandwich Islands are concerned, therefore,
they were British from the point that they
became an object of state interest. Spain
did not have-and did not claim-sov-
ereignty over these islands, and a fortiori
Argentina could not have succeeded to any
rights over them. The association of these


10/CA1?BBEAN PCVIE~










islands with the Falklands stems from Brit-
ish administrative convenience.
Under international law, the most impor-
tant elements in a question of title to terri-
tory would be the intention of the claimant
state or states (animus occupandi), and
the actual exercise or display of state au-
thority (corpus occupandi). Together
these elements constitute the doctrine of
"effective occupation." International courts
and tribunals have, in several cases involv-
ing territorial disputes, given primordial im-
portance to "effective occupation" so that
this factor has always prevailed over other
factors such as discovery or proximity.
The well-known Island of Palmas case
provides an understanding of the doctrine
of "effective occupation." The case con-
cerned the island of Palmas which, accord-
ing to Spanish maps accompanying the
cession of the Philippines to the United
States in 1898, was part of the Philippine
archipelago and entirely within the area
possessed by Spain. Nonetheless, the is-
land was in 1898 and for many years prior
to that date under the "effective occupa-
tion" of the Netherlands. The United States
argued that it succeeded to the rights of
Spain over the Philippines; and that the
rights of Spain arose from discovery, from
treaties such as the 1648 Treaty of Miinster
to which Spain and the Netherlands were
parties, and from contiguity (proximity).
The Swiss jurist, Max Huber, who pre-
sided over the case gave a clear and con-
cise statement of the applicable rule of
international law. Sovereignty, he stated,
based "on the title of peaceful and continu-
ous display of state authority...would in in-
ternational law prevail over a title of
acquisition of sovereignty not followed by
actual display of state authority...." He
added that "[t]he title of discovery...would,
under the most favorable and most exten-
sive interpretation, exist only as an inchoate
title, as a claim to establish sovereignty by
effective occupation. An inchoate title how-
ever cannot prevail over a definite title
founded on continuous and peaceful dis-
play of sovereignty." As for contiguity or
proximity he dismissed it as follows: "the
title of contiguity, understood as a basis of
territorial sovereignty, has no foundation in
international law." (For text of award, see 22
Am. J. Int'l L. 867 [1928], pp. 908, 910.) It
ought to be added that Judge Huber recog-
nized the critical importance of evaluating
alleged actions and claims in the light of the
law that prevailed at the time the dispute
arose. Thus, his award evaluated the norms
of international law that prevailed during the
18th and 19th centuries.
Argentine jurists have in the past recog-
nized and accepted the doctrine of "effec-
tive occupation" in stating their own case
for the Falklands. Clearly, an application of
this doctrine to the dependencies would
confirm British sovereignty over South


Georgia and the South Sandwich Islands.
Britain has granted leases for grazing and
mining in South Georgia to a Chilean com-
pany, an Argentine company, four Nor-
wegian firms and several British firms. A
magistrate has been continuously resident
since 1909 and police, customs and post
offices were established in 1912. Govern-
ment buildings were constructed in 1925.
Whaling licenses were issued in 1912 for
the South Sandwich Islands to several Nor-
wegian companies and one was issued as
recently as 1927-28. Mapping and other
exploratory activities were undertaken be-
tween 1930 and 1937.


The first claim to the
dependencies was made
after 152 years of
uninterrupted British
sovereignty and in the
absence of any other prior
claim either by Spain or
Argentina.


The volume of activity necessary to es-
tablish "effective occupation" varies ac-
cording to the condition of the territory and
the competing activities of other claimant
states. The Permanent Court of Interna-
tional Justice declared in itsjudgment in the
Eastern Greenland case (Nor(ad\ v. Den-
mark) that "[i]t is impossible to read the
records of the decisions in cases as to ter-
ritorial sovereigntywithout observing that in
many cases the tribunal has been satisfied
with very little in the way of the actual exer-
cise of sovereign rights, provided that the
other state could not make out a superior
claim. This is particularly true in the case of
claims to sovereignty over areas in thinly
populated or unsettled countries." ([1931]
PC. 1.J. Ser. A/B, No. 53, p. 46)
Contiguity or proximity does not provide
a legal basis to territorial sovereignty, as
Judge Huber correctly pointed out. Indeed,
international tribunals in territorial disputes
appear to have attributed "greater weight
to-even isolated-acts of display of sov-
ereignty than to continuity of territory, even
if such continuity is combined with the exis-
tence of natural boundaries." What is true of
continuity must, a fortiori, be so much
more true of proximity or contiguity. In any
case, the dependencies can hardly be said
to be contiguous to Argentina, being 1,000
to 1,500 miles away! If Argentina cannot
prove "effective occupation" of the depen-
dencies either by Spain or by Argentina it-
self then the argument of contiguity will
avail it nought. The legal weakness of Ar-


gentina's case cannot but have been a ma-
jor consideration in its steadfast rejection of
several British offers of judicial resolution of
the dispute.

The Falkland Islands
Even if the uncertainty surrounding the dis-
covery of the Falklands could somehow be
resolved it would not settle the issue of sov-
ereignty. As the Palmas case illustrates, dis-
covery would have conferred at best an
inchoate title which, were it not consoli-
dated through "effective occupation" by the
discovering state, would have been liable to
displacement by any other state that under-
took "effective occupation" of the islands.
The sovereignty issue over the Falklands
turns on this point.
One need not tarry long over the Papal
Bull Inter Caetera and the Treaty of Tor-
desillas. It is extremely doubtful that papal
grants were sufficient to invest title in terri-
tory against third states in the 15th and 16th
centuries. Certainly, Catholic powers such
as France and England under Henry VII did
not consider papal grants as precluding
their acquisition of territory in areas granted
to Spain and Portugal. At best the Papal
Bull, as well as the Treaty of Tordesillas, may
be considered as instruments obliging
Spain and Portugal inter se; they could
scarcely be considered as limiting the rights
of independent and sovereign third states
such as Britain.
More important are the claims advanced
by Spain during the eighteenth century.
Among the first acts or claims of Spain
vis-a-vis Great Britain was the response to
the planned British expedition of 1748-49.
Spain objected to the dispatch of this expe-
dition and Britain desisted from the planned
undertaking without, however, conceding
that sovereignty over the islands vested in
Spain. The Bougainville settlement of 1764
at Port Louis and the claiming of Les Mal-
ouines for Louis XV evoked another protest
by Spain, which claimed the islands "on the
ground of political expediency" and prox-
imity. Spain sweetened its claim by offering
to purchase the settlement, an offer "which
indicated that the Spanish were none too
sure of the validity of their protest," accord-
ing to Julius Goebel, Jr., an author generally
sympathetic to the Argentine view. For rea-
sons of its own France eventually agreed to
renounce its claim to the islands in return
for monetary compensation. The signifi-
cance of this transaction lies in Spain's as-
sertion of its claim over the islands, that is,
as evidence of animus occupandi. The
transaction by itself, however, could not set-
tle the Anglo-Spanish dispute; for France
could hardly be considered as having had
the powerto make such decisions on behalf
of Britain.
The establishment in 1767 of a Spanish
presence in Port Louis, renamed Puerto
Continued on page 42


CAI?BBEAN IEVIEW/11













Chagito, The Dreamer


A Puerto Rican Short Story

By Miguelingelo Rodriguez


6wg e must destroy the invaders
from the East!" GUeybana's
voice was sorrow-filled, for he
was truly a man of peace, yet his body was
painted black, the color of War and Death.
The profound gaze of his large oval eyes
signaled that every man, woman, and child
was to fight the Spanish invaders. "They
have robbed and mistreated us! Abused our
women! Enslaved us! Broken the sacred
guaitiao! We can no longer be blood-
brothers with the invaders! There must be
war!" The beat of the drum became heavier
and louder. Gieybana the Brave stared at
the bonfire in the middle of theyucayeque
of his people who had come down from
their cave refuges in the thickly foliaged
mountains of Boriquen. Many dark eyes
looked to him for an answer. The god
Yocahi( had not saved them from being
captured and put to work in the gold mines;
the cemis did nothing against the invaders.
No longer was there singing, cloth making,
or the ball game ofbatey; every hand now
was to be raised against the men who rode
on frightening beasts and possessed loud,
magic weapons that could kill. When the
areyto was sung the prowesses of their no-
ble Taino ancestors would bring them their
needed success in the coming war; his gaze
and moving lips took in every watchful face:
"Boriqu&n is our land! Our fathers' fathers
lived and died here! Our children must live
and die in Boriqunn! We cannot let our-
selves be captured and made slaves! We
must fight!" shouted the cacique. "Destroy
the enemy!" ...The Tainos stood up one by
one. Their stone hatchets, spears of flint
and mollusk reflected the bonfire's orange
fury which also gave their dark, sweating
skins and black hair a victorious, metallic
sheen-there was hope now. Gueybana the
Valiant would save them...lead them...
"1Fbnte a limpiar no seas vago!" yelled
Chagito'sabuelo. Te tengo que decir otra
uez que barras el piso?" Chagito consen-
tingly mumbled under his breath, and
swept the floor quicker now. He looked back
at his abuelo, standing behind the counter

Writer Miguelingelo Rodriquez teaches in the
Communications Department of American
College, Bayam6n, Puerto Rico.


in the colmado, with amazement. It was as if
the old man had walked into a dark room
and violently shook Chagito out of a deep
sleep. "T7 eres siempre un soiiador, y bien
sabes que tienes que barrer el piso y limp-
iar el refrigerator La tienda siempre esta
sucia y yo no tengo nadie que me ayude."
Saying nothing in return, for-as Chagito
found out-to contradict the old man was
only to get him angrier, he continued
sweeping the dusty, wooden floor, the vision
of his angry, fearless people fading fast in
Gieybana's-the Brave, the Valiant-dark,
profound eyes.
"iTu nunca haces lo que yo te digo!"
commanded his abuelo. "Yo creo que hoy
es un dia en que tu preferirias estar con tus
amigos. iPero mijo hay trabajo pa'hacer!"
Who did he think he was?
Chago P&rez Romero, "Chagito," had
been sent to stay in Puerto Rico with his
abuelo because his mother was divorcing
his father; and broken up, the family no
longer lived in the Bronx. His sisters were
still there though, with his mother.
"Recuerda que tienes que poner las
coca colas en el refrigerator," the old man
continued.
"...Pero abuelo...it's so hot. I feel tired,"
replied Chagito.
But the old man did not hear his nephew
and stood putting some cupones into the
cash register, smiled at the customer as he
always did because he really had a kind
heart. "Mira," he said, pointing with his
hand at Chagito and saying it out loud so
the entire morning world could hear.
"Tengo aqui un nenito que no le gusta
trabajari Tienes que ser un hombre. Un
macho. iTienes que trabajar!"
"Acaba de barrer para que puedas ir a
jugar con tus amigos." Chagito sheepishly
smiled back, no longer feeling tired. He was
relieved that he would soon be permitted to
go out to play. His abuelo made him do this,
do that, there was always something to do,
which of course Chagito preferred not to do,
never having been made to work this hard
before. Yet while listening to the salsa com-
ing from the General Electric radio on the
shelf above the NCR register, he swept the
aisle in front of the frozen foods, moving up
to the rear of the store, sweeping in front of


the Kelvinator beverage cooler where a
poster advertised a beautiful blond smok-
ing a popular low tar, filtered cigarette in
front of El Morro; he could hear the latin
rhythms end, then the news, his abuelo's
footsteps going up the wooden steps to the
apartment. Chagito stopped sweeping,
resting the straw broom against the cooler;
he was so tired. "ilYo oluides mopear de-
bajo del refrigerador!" crackled his abuelo
suddenly as he appeared at the top of the
steps. Chagito quickly put the broom away
and got the mop.
"Si abuelo! iSi! iAhora!"
He filled a bucket with Lestoil and water
and mopped the inside of the colmado. In
the rear, minutes later, he stood alone and
quiet. The floor was damp-there was a
strong smell of disinfectant...before he
could go play he had to ask his abuelo; he
could be safe here for the moment. Over-
head, sunlight poured through a crack in a
rear window, through that crack too the
sounds of the sunfilled day; birds chirping, a
truck roaring by destroying the serenity of
everything, Vieques on the news again... As
he stood there by the mop, which was taller
than Chagito himself, his vision suddenly
took in the array of Kellogg's Corn Flakes,
Quaker Oats, Heinz baby food...
"...It's the English, ready to attack again,"
the sergeant said coolly.
"It's Drake!" said El Comandante
Romero, taking the telescope and looking
at the bay. "Load the cannons!" he
commanded.
"Load the cannons!" the sergeant
repeated.
Without haste, armored soldiers swept
out the passageways of El Morro which
guarded San Juan Bay. Already, Drake and
his squadron of deadly English ships were
within attack range; they wanted to capture
Puerto Rico for the English crown. San
Juan would be in panic-their last attack
had razed the city. El Comandante had to
defend it; he moved from one battery to
another. "Remember God and Puerto
Rico!" he exhorted. "Remember your fami-
lies! Don't fire till they are within close
range!" The handsome, tall muscular figure
was a legend already, a warrior who had
defeated the Indians in every battle, and


12/CAIBBEAN rEVIEW


























would now keep the Pearl of the Caribbean
out of the hands of the terrible English. El
Comandante, El Comandante-his name
was whispered everywhere, and as he stood
facing the Atlantic he heard his name in that
feminine tone he recognized so well.
It was Carlotta Marques Aboy, his be-
trothed. She came in fitful agitation, her
Andalusian features marred by soot, the
mound of red hair in disarray. These words
burst out from her lips: "The English rebels
have taken Vieques and sent a squadron to
land further up the coast. They are march-
ing on the town, soldiers must be sent! They
have already burned my father's plantation!
Comandante, you must send soldiers be-
fore all of San Juan is burned! The English
must not capture us!" she said in a near
shout. "There is only one man who can
save us!"
He took her in his arms, "Don't worry," El
Comandante answered in a cool, con-
trolled voice, kissing her. "I will save you and
Puerto Rico!" Immediately, he ordered the
sergeant to take half the soldiers to defend
the town. Then he moved from cannon to
cannon, "Shoot Drake out of the water!" he
ordered his men, but the evil pirate Drake
came in closer, his cannons battering El
Morro.
"He's really invincible like they say," Car-
lotta stated nervously.
El Comandante tumed to his cannoners,
"Let me get him!" he ordered, the soldiers
standing back. With the telescope he
looked out and found Drake's ship; he fixed
the cannon on the target and lit the fuse,
everyone stood back...
"iChagito! iChagito! ZAcabaste de limp-
iar el piso? iHas puesto las coca colas en
el refrigerator?" He shook his head then
got up and walked resignedly towards the
front of the colmado, where there was an-
other cooler, and soft, worn boxes of
guineos, pirlas, yautia, and mangos, which
had just come in season. "Tengo dos o tres
cosas mis para que hagas," said his
abuelo, as he walked slowly down the stairs.
"Oh..." Chagito sucked in air with disap-
pointment. He was tired of working; every
since he'd come to the Island all he had
done was work...and he missed his mother
and father.


"Hay latas y botellas para poner en los
anaqueles."
"But abuelo...you said..."
"Not now. Not now," he replied using
some of the little English that he knew.
"Later you can go. There is much work
to do."


His abuelo's stern, dark gaze was no
match for Chagito and he shuffled past the
newsrack "NAVY CONTINUES OCCUPA-
TION" and the boom boom boom of can-
noning ringing through his senses-.
It was lunchtime Chagito realized when
Continued on page 44


CAfBBEAN MVIEW/13











Whatever Happened to



Cancun?

The 600 Billion Dollar Question

By Pamela S. Falk


Mexican President Jos6 L6pez Portillo at CancOn conference, 1981.


he investment climate in most of the
developing world-especially Latin
America-has deteriorated dras-
tically. The chances of a significant eco-
nomic recovery-with an international
recession unparalleled since the 1930s,
record-high interest rates, soaring debt ser-
vice burdens, low commodity prices, and
increasing energy bills-is next to nil. These
ominous signs, as well as a reticence by
most industrialized nations to increase for-
eign aid programs, threaten to reverse the
slow but steady growth Latin America has
achieved during the past two decades.
The summit conference in Cancun in
October 1981 demonstrated increased re-
alization by industrialized and industrializ-
ing nations-the "haves" and the "have-
nots"-that coordinated development is
preferable and perhaps inevitable. The
Pamela S. Falk is Director of Programs at the
Center for Inter-American Relations in New
York. She attended the summit conference in
Cancun as an observer. Her book, Cuban
Foreign Policy in the Twentieth Century,
will be published by Lexington Books in the
fall.


tremors of international recession in the
North are today felt as economic earth-
quakes in the South. As Brazilian Foreign
Minister Ramiro Saraiva Guerreiro said in
Cancun, "the North-South dialogue is no
longer an exercise in making demands by
peripheral countries aimed at nations set on
a firm course and completely in control of
its underlying variables."
The debate is a dialogue not between
outcasts and benefactors but between inter-
connected groups that comprise the inter-
national economic system. For when pri-
vate debt is added to public debt, the total
debt of the South to the North today
reaches $600 billion. In the continued eco-
nomic expansion of the developing nations,
clearly, trade and aid are essential, es-
pecially in the Western hemisphere. At the
heart of the development equation is the
need to increase capital flows to developing
nations, for without capital there is no in-
vestment, and without investment, there is
no future-the fear which, in effect, sparks
the turmoil in the region.
Several different groups have been for-
mulating programs during the last year to


increase both private sector contributions
to bilateral development programs as well
as government contributions to multilateral
lending institutions. In the assistance pro-
grams that the developed nations of the
West are proposing, most notably those by
the White House, security and development
assistance are defined as an indivisable
unit. New changes in the world, according
to former US Secretary of State Alexander
Haig, present challenges that economic
and political foreign policies must over-
come. In fact, the reality of a security threat
is not as germane to cooperation in interna-
tional development programs as the per-
ception of that threat; for less crucial than
the motives, the fact that developing na-
tions are being given increased economic
assistance and attention may well be bene-
ficial to their development process. Ineffec-
tive aid programs of the 1960's illustrate the
need to direct dollars and jobs to local peas-
ants and small business owners rather than
to the military or to the top "fourteen fami-
lies." "Security assistance is specifically de-
signed to shape events and address short-
term problems," Haig cautioned. The logi-


14/CAiFBBCAN PEVIEW



















































US President Ronald Reagan at CancOn conference, 1981.


cal consequences of aid geared to security
concerns-in addition to history-illustrate
the problems in definitions that emanate
from the definition of "friendly states" which
can "help us assure our most vital national
interests."
At Cancun, the debate over cooperation
between the world's rich and poor-com-
monly known as the North-South debate-
moved to center-stage. The willingness of
twenty-two heads of state to gather in Can-
cun, Mexico reflected three changes in in-
ternational political and economic rela-
tions. First, economic interdependence
among virtually all nations is at an all-time
high. Second, there is a new emphasis on
the role of the private sector in international
economic development; and third, there is
the new definition of political and security
interests which requires economically-sta-
ble developing nation allies. These changes
in global economic relations enhance the
prospects for North-South cooperation.
The threshold question remains: Do eco-
nomic interdependence, increased par-
ticipation of the private sector, and a
changed perception of political and security


interests form mutually-exclusive forces in
an international negotiating setting such as
Cancin? The answer must be no. The tradi-
tional demands by both the North and the
South have been extreme. The paramount
demand of the South of a voting structure
for the international lending facilities that
represents one-nation, one-vote, is scoffed
at in private by directors of the World Bank.
Credit ratings in bond markets, the direc-
tors claim, would dive. But one might wait
forever for the private sector to bail out 500
million starving people in the world, a re-
sponsibility it may not feel. Compromise of
these positions must recognize the realities
of a modern interdependent economy. De-
velopment programs must recognize the
needs of the South to determine its own fate
and the limits of the North to shape devel-
opment plans tailored to the 1980s.

Debt and the Private Sector
Recent programs for assistance-most no-
tably the US proposal for Caribbean basin
development-emphasize a combination
of government incentives for private invest-
ment and public cushions for increased


trade. The plan is, no doubt, flawed. It is,
nonetheless, welcome aid in hard times. In
fact, its troubled trip through the US Con-
gress is being anxiously followed by most
nations in the region. If there is no plan for
the Caribbean basin when the 97th Con-
gress adjourns, there will be resentment by
many Latin American allies.
Efforts to remove the Caribbean Basin
Initiative from US purvue and place it under
World Bank direction would surely kill the
plan. But what it needs is not a total over-
haul nor a change of venue. As Robert Yost,
outgoing ambassador to the Dominican
Republic (appointed by Carter) put it, "This
idea is a non-starter: there is no way to pass
these funds through the World Bank. I have
no interest in promoting Reagan's policy. It
is a program that just should be passed."
The programs embodied in the plan are, for
the most part, reliant on bilateral aid-and
carry all the liabilities that two-way dealings
bring: heavy-handed influence, lack of a
multiplier effect, threat of withdrawal, and
vulnerability to the whims of the US Con-
gress. Another plan might be preferable, but
there are none waiting in the halls of the


CAIBBCAN rIVIE /15










White House or the chambers of the Cap-
itol. The Caribbean basin aid is, by most
accounts, better than nothing.
That is not to say that there is no place for
multilateral lending today. Although con-
cessional lending has seen better days, the
World Bank, a director argued last fall, "is no
Red Cross." In multilateral lending institu-
tions, programs which combine lending by
private, commercial banks and guarantees
by private insurance companies have been
remarkably successful. Of course, since de-
velopment capital, essential for investment
and growth, is in short supply, the devel-
oped nations need to fulfill obligations to
the World Bank as well as to regional devel-
opment banks, such as the Inter-American
Development Bank (IDB) and the African
Development Bank (BAD).
The developing nations' public debt
alone to the West reached $341 billion in
1980. The servicing of that debt soared
from $11 billion to $112 billion during the
last decade. It has thus come about that,
today, more than in any previous period of
history, that which harms the developing
world also harms the developed world. Rec-
ognition of this economic interrelationship
is barely keeping astride with the reality.
"The fact of interdependence," the World
Bank's new President A.W Clausen warned,
"is far greater than the perception of it."
Even so, increased economic interdepen-
dence is one factor which brought repre-
sentatives of North and South (though
conspicuously not the Soviet Union) to the
round-table at Cancun. One of the reasons
for the shift is the present high level of pri-
vate sector participation in international de-
velopment projects. Indeed, one of the
principal objections by the US to the estab-
lishment of a separate energy facility in the
World Bank, is the large number of private
oil company programs which require no
taxpayer assistance. A World Bank pro-

GRINANDBEARIT byichty&Wagner


gram, the argument continues, should,
"complement and facilitate, rather than
substitute for, the role of the private com-
panies." The question that is not answered
by this argument is whether the interest of
private oil companies coincides with that of
the developing countries to develop self-
sustaining energy sources.
According to the US government, the
emphasis on private sector participation in
development is due to the dramatic up-
surge in private direct investment after
World War II, including the key role US pri-
vate investors played in Europe's post-war


One might wait forever for
the private sector to bail
out 500 million starving
people in the world, a
responsibility it may
not feel.



recovery. Between 1950 and 1980, US di-
rect investment increased from $11.8 bil-
lion to $213 billion. In 1979, although most
investment went to the developed world,
and the ability of the developing world to
attract investment decreased, only $37 bil-
lion was directed to Latin America and the
Caribbean together. "Private capital flows,"
Ronald Reagan stated in 1981, when he
described his position at Cancun, "now ac-
count for almost 70% of total financial flows
to developing countries." Improving the
climate for private capital will likely be
an essential part of a US development pro-
gram. "Investment," Reagan concluded
[clearly implying 'private' investment], "is
the lifeblood of development."
Finally, a redefinition of political and se-
curity interests has become a fundamental
component of current programs of eco-
nomic aid, especially in the Caribbean
basin. Stated simply, the current view of the
Reagan administration appears to be: An
economically stable neighbor is more likely
to be a politically stable ally. Although the
argument is not new to the foreign policy of
developed nations, its importance dimin-
ished during the years of East-West detente
and its resurgence is directly tied to the in-
creased perception of East-West conflicts.
Former Secretary of State Haig argued to
the US Senate Foreign Relations Commit-
tee last Spring, "In the formulation of eco-
nomic policy, in the allocation of resources,
in decisions on international economic is-
sues, a major determinant will be the need
to protect and advance our security." Se-
curity and development assistance have,
during the Reagan administration's two
years in office, gone hand in hand.


The Shift to the South
During the 1950s the concentration of eco-
nomic development issues began to shift
from the war-torn nations of Western Eu-
rope and Japan to the chronically poor na-
tions of the South. In the 1960s, the Cold
War remained a major determinant in de-
veloped nations' foreign economic and po-
litical assistance programs and foreign
policies. The international system was still
fundamentally bipolar-divided between
the United States and the Soviet Union. Re-
lations between the North and the South
were yoked to perceptions of security and
influence. More often than not, the recently
decolonized states had serious economic
problems to confront as well as deep-set
political divisions.
The United States established the Al-
liance for Progress to channel bilateral aid
to Latin America; a "revolution of rising ex-
pectations" in the nations of the Third World
was fueled by generous aid programs de-
signed to accelerate short- and intermedi-
ate-term economic growth. Such aid was
justified in terms of security and spheres of
influence; an economically healthy Third
World, it was felt, would mean a politically
stable environment-both for the regions
themselves and also for the developed
North. The prevailing theory at the time was
that financial aid alone did not have a last-
ing and fundamental effect on the econo-
mies of the nations involved nor did it
contribute to self-sustained growth unless,
1) it was administered by multilateral in-
stitutions and, 2)the benefits of trade agree-
ments accrued to all nations involved in the
agreement.
Responding to the new-found strength in
its economies and political systems during
the late 1960s and 1970s, the South began
to devote more time and effort to regional
political institutions and simultaneously the
South began to vote in a bloc more often.
The public appearance of consensus, these
nations began to notice, could be as impor-
tant as agreement itself. The 1970s, how-
ever, witnessed a shift. By mid-decade, the
economic recession in the North caused by
the shift in power to oil exporting countries,
and compounded by the 1973-74 oil em-
bargo by OPEC, hit the South severely. Oil
exporting nations of the South were, more-
over, in a very different position from their
regional and political allies. Oil-exporting
developing nations-including Mexico,
Venezuela, and Ecuador as well as the Arab
nations-splintered the voting unity of re-
gional groups. In addition, during this pe-
riod, the United States and the Soviet Union
made temporary peace; as the Cold War
waned, a new policy of detente diminished
the developed nations' interest in protect-
ing the South and insuring economic pro-
tection from the volatility of the international
marketplace. US assistance dropped to .2%


16/CAiBBEAN REVIEW









of the GNP; growth in developing countries
leveled off.
Responding to the increasing fear that
barriers such as protectionist policies would
reverse the gains achieved by the develop-
ing nations during the past fifteen years,
several regional organizations began to call
for a restructuring of the post-war interna-
tional economy and the creation of a New
International Economic Order. These calls
were overpowered by economic and politi-
cal crises in a distracted North. As an eco-
nomic recession intensified, concessional
programs of the World Bank became
threatened. "Soft-loan" programs such as
the Bank's International Development As-
sociation (IDA) or the Inter-American Devel-
opment Bank's Fund for Special Opera-
tions, which rely on new contributions,
became more dependent on approval by
single nation contributors, such as the
United States. By the end of the 1970s, the
international economic climate had deteri-
orated significantly. The era of multilateral
lending appeared to be over.
In September 1977, Willy Brandt, former
Chanceller of the Federal Republic of Ger-
many, warned that the current critical prob-
lems of hunger, poverty and disease, would
lead to "mass starvation," and established
the Independent Commission on Interna-
tional Development Issues to explore the
ways that the North might address the se-
vere and worsening crisis in the South. The
Commission recommended reforms in: of-
ficial development assistance, the structure
and procedures of World Bank loans,
changes in the bank's ratio of borrowing-to-
capital, or "gearing ratio," lending criteria of
the IMF, international trade, national food
strategies, and energy. The response to the
Brandt Commission-Report was lukewarm.
When its recommendations were released
at the end of 1979, the developed nations
appeared to feel no compelling reason to
respond.
A report by the Inter-American Develop-
ment Bank warned of an increasing crisis in
Latin America: "The unprecedented in-
crease in oil prices in 1979 and early 1980
by about 140%, again produced substantial
balance of payments deficits." Similarly,
deficits of the balance of payments of the
industrialized North increased from $31 bil-
lion in 1979, to $70 billion one year later.
The results were devastating: a world-wide
recessionary trend in production grew
more pronounced; global inflation acceler-
ated; unemployment increased. In coun-
tries of the Organization of Economic
Cooperation in Development the growth
rate of the GNP fell from 3.3% in 1979 to 1%
in 1980. Most relevant to the developing
nations, the growth rate of international
trade fell from 6% in 1979 to 1% in 1980.
By the beginning of the 1980s, the gap
between the rich and poor was widening
rapidly; in 1980, 80% of the global GNP was


enjoyed by only 25% of the population.
Average GNP per capital in the developed
countries of $8,000 contrasted with $597
per capital in the developing nations.
Politically, the conflict between the East
and West was reheating. 1979 witnessed
the Iran crisis, the Nicaraguan revolution,
the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. Once
again, interest in the economic develop-
ment of the South was defined in terms of
sphere of influence. In this new crisis en-
vironment, the calls for a North-South sum-
mit were renewed. In early 1980, when the
Brandt Commission report was published,



The Caribbean basin aid is,
by most accounts, better
than nothing.



the South was rocked by more severe bal-
ance of payments deficits, bankruptcy fears
and increased political unrest than it had
ever before experienced. Argentine econo-
mist Raul Prebisch recommended a new
approach. In a meeting of regional finance
ministers in Montevideo, Prebisch called for
a reversal of his previous policies of import
substitution and growth based on aid from
developed nations. The South, he argued,
must rely on what it could produce itself.
The caution was based on the well-founded
fear that the era of multilateral lending was
over. By January 1980, both England and
the United States had recently elected lead-
ers who espoused free trade and reductions
of official development assistance. In this
setting, the calls for an international summit
conference first sounded in the Brandt Re-
port were repeated and a response came in
the convening of the Cancun summit.

The Cancun Conference
On October 22, 1981, eight delegates from
the northern, developed nations and four-
teen from the southern, developing nations
filed into a conference room in the unlikely
luxury of Cancun, Mexico to discuss the
economic crises confronting the world's
poor. During two days of closed-door ses-
sions, 22 heads of state discussed five
pressing issues of mutual interest: eco-
nomic cooperation, energy, food and agri-
culture, trade, and international finance.
Mexico's President Jose L6pez Portillo
and Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Elliot
Trudeau, the conference co-chairman,
emerged on October 23rd with a con-
ference summary which all attending
members supported. While the conference
summary represented a compromise state-
ment lacking any concrete proposals for
global negotiations or specific commit-
ments by the developed nations' represen-


tatives, it enabled all participants to breathe
a sigh of relief that none of the dreaded
rhetorical ambushes had occurred. As the
ground rules for the conference had re-
quired, no agenda was followed, no formal
agreements were announced. Even with
these modest results, none of the 22 partici-
pants broke rank in their expression of
guarded optimism as they left Cancun.
In part, this expression of support re-
flected the assessment that sitting down
together in such an unprecedented summit
was, in itself, an achievement. In addition,
the developing nations were able to state
their plans, programs, and goals and, as the
world watched, be heard. Yet, principally, the
expression of support by the South re-
flected the factthat the case for the develop-
Continued on page 45



From FIU's International Affairs Center
The Universidad Pedagogica Nacional,
Bogota, Colombia, completed a higher
education seminar on analysis, planning
and development in May, 1982. The
seminar, sponsored by the International
Affairs Center and the Victoria Gildred
Foundation for Medicine and Education
in Latin America, was attended by ten
senior level administrators of the UPN,
including the Rector, Augusto Franco
Arbelaez. A second seminar in July,
1982 on Special Education for three
faculty from the UNP is currently in
session at Florida International
University.
During July 1982, delegations from
the Universidad Aut6noma del Estado
de Mexico, Toluca, Mexico, and from the
Universidad Central del Este, San Pedro
Macoris, Dominican Republic, visited the
University to initiate planning and
delivery of programs and seminars in
Mexico and the Dominican Republic. In
early August, 1982, a team of senior
level administrators from the University
will deliver a higher education seminar
to approximately forty participants at the
UAEM in Toluca.
The second meeting of the Executive
Committee of the Interamerican
University Council for Social and
Economic Development (Consejo
Universitario Interamericano Para el
Desarrollo Social y Econ6mico) was
held in Kingston, Jamaica, July 14-16 for
the purpose of reaching agreement on
the statutes, bylaws, operating budget
and planning. Representatives from the
following institutions were in attendance:
Florida International University;
Universidad Autonoma de Guadalajara,
Mexico; Indiana University; Universidad
Simon Bolivar, Venezuela; Universidad
Catolica de Valparaiso, Chile; University
of the West Indies, Jamaica;
Universidad de Moron, Argentina;
Universidad Peruana Cayetano Heredia,
Peru; Universidad Catolica Madre y
Maestra, Dominican Republic.

International Affairs Center
Florida International University
Tamiami Trail, Miami, Florida 33199
Ph: (305) 554-2846


CAI BBCAN rPVIEW/17












Why Latin America



Is Poor

Cultural Factors in the Creation of Latin Poverty

By Michael Novak


It is odd, on the face of it, to blame the
poverty of Latin America on North Amer-
ican capitalism. Such poverty, after all, is
a great deal older than its purported cause.
Two hundred years ago, Latin America was
poorer than it is today; but so was North
America. At that time, Adam Smith drew
attention to the two contrasting experi-
ments taking place in "the New World," one
on the southern continent and one on the
northern, one based on the political econ-
omy of southern Europe, the other launch-
ing a new idea.
In those early days, Latin America
seemed to have greater physical resources
than North America. Much of its gold, silver,
and lead ended up in the ornate churches
and chapels of the Catholic Church in
Spain and Portugal. Columbus himself,
seeking gold and other precious resources,
sailed under a Spanish flag. By contrast, the
first settlers in New England discovered lit-
tle evidence of precious metals, and a rela-
tively harsh agricultural environment. Even
so, and by dint of great effort, they won from
North America such riches as tobacco, furs,
com, and later, cotton, which they traded to
Europe for manufactured goods.
In 1800, there were about 4 million Euro-
pean settlers in the United States, about
900,000 blacks, and an "Indian" population
estimated at one million. The population of
Latin America was then more than three
times larger, numbering 19 million, of
which the original population of Indians,
estimated at between 25 and 50 million in
1500, had been dramatically reduced. By
1940, the populations of the United States
and Latin America were about equal-
some 130 million each. By 1977, however,
the population of the United States was rela-
tively stable at 220 million whereas that of
Latin America had shot up to 342 million.
In computing average per capital income,
population is important in three ways. First,

Michael Novak is resident scholar in philoso-
phy, religion and public policy at American
Enterprise Institute in Washington, D.C. The
above article was reprinted with permission
from the Atlantic Monthly Company, and is ex-
cerpted from Novak's book, The Spirit of
Democratic Capitalism (Simon & Schuster).
Copyright 1982 by Michael Novak.


every newborn child lowers the average per
capital income. Second, as the under-eigh-
teen population increases in proportion, the
relative number of productive workers de-
creases. Third, rapidly increasing popula-
tions indicate that many parents have
decided in favor of larger families, through
whatever combination of motives, and this
preference, though it might be admirable,
has its economic costs. Those who make
that choice cannot properly blame others
for its consequences. Since 1940, the pop-
ulation of the United States has grown by 90
million, but that of Latin America has in-
creased by 210 million.
In the nineteenth century, on both conti-
nents, independence was relatively new.
Both had recently been colonies of the then
greatest powers in Europe. All through the
nineteenth century, trade between Latin
America and North America was negligible.
Nearly all trade by both continents was with
Europe. In North America, the vast majority
of persons became owners of their homes
and lands; not so in Latin America. The
moral-cultural system of North America
placed great emphasis on building and
working for tomorrow. The moral-cultural
system of Latin America favored an empha-
sis on personal rather than civil and eco-
nomic values. Either choice has its own
costs and its own rewards.
Consider what might have been. Sup-
pose that Latin America had developed in-
dustries and manufacturing before the
United States did. Clearly, the resources
were available. Latin America is rich in oil,
tin, bauxite, and many other important min-
erals. Its farmlands and tropical gardens are
luxuriant. Why then, didn't Latin America
become the richer of the two continents of
the New World? The answer appears to lie in
the nature of the Latin American political
system, economic system, and moral-cul-
tural system. The last is probably decisive.
Latin America might have been eco-
nomically active, progressive, and indepen-
dent. Indeed, it had the advantage of
remaining outside World Wars I and II. It
might long ago have placed the United
States in its economic shadow. Yet its
bishops do not blame the Catholic Church,
the political and economic systems those


bishops have long supported, or the past
values and choices of the Latin American
people. They blame the United States.
Specific emphasis is placed upon prac-
tices of trade. Between 1900 and 1950,
trade between Latin America and the United
States did begin to grow, but by 1950 the
value of US investment in Latin America
came to only $4.6 billion. During World
War II, Western Europe lay in rubble, its
economies broken, and Japan lay eco-
nomically prostrate. After the war, trade be-
tween the United States and Latin America
continued to grow. Still, by 1965, the total
value of all US investments in Latin America
was $11 billion. By 1965, investments by
Western European nations and Japan, just
beginning to revive after World War II, were
not of great significance. It seems pre-
posterous to believe that such small sums
are responsible for the poverty or the de-
pendence of Latin America. They are nei-
ther a high proportion of the wealth of the
investing nations nor a high proportion of
Latin America's internally generated wealth.
The total US investment of $11 billion aver-
ages out to $44 per capital for the 250 mil-
lion Latin Americans of 1965. Moreover, US
investments in Western Europe and devel-
oped nations such as Canada and Japan
were higher, over time, without producing
similar "dependence." Is it supposed that
such investments in Latin America should
have been forbidden altogether?
Traditional Catholic ignorance about
modem economies may, in fact, have more
to do with the poverty of Latin America than
any other single factor. Consider the eco-
nomic history of traditional Latin cultures.

Latin Catholic Economics
Max Weber observed that capitalism
seemed to succeed first and most steadily
in Protestant lands. He traced the origins of
the modern capitalist ethos to Calvinism.
Unfortunately, scholars observed, capital-
ism was also retarded, for ideological rea-
sons, in certain Calvinist strongholds-
Calvin's Geneva, for one. The empirical pic-
ture is a bit more complicated than Weber
thought.
For example, Hugh R. Trevor-Roper
noted that many of the great entrepreneurs


18/CA TBBEAN FtrIEw
























of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
are to be distinguished less by the fact that
many were Calvinists than by the fact that
nearly all were immigrants. In addition to
the Calvinists, there were Jews and Cathol-
ics. Thus Trevor-Roper asks, What made
these entrepreneurs migrate? Why did they
find some cities and some regimes hospita-
ble and others (including some Calvinist
ones) inhospitable? The details of Trevor-
Roper's argument, which I here summarize,
are rich and the scholarship he cites broad.
The basic picture he draws indicts Catholic
Counter-Reformation economies, particu-
larly that of the Castilian monarchy of Spain,
then at the zenith of its imperial power.
Trevor-Roper uncovers many surprising
patterns. He argues that the remote origins
of capitalism, both as a system of produc-
tion and as a technique of financing, lie in
Catholic cities such as Antwerp, Liege,
Lisbon, Augsburg, Milan, Lucca. "These
were the centres of European capitalism in
1500," Trevor-Roper writes. Yet between
1550 and 1620 these centers were "con-
vulsed, and the secret techniques of capital-
ism were carried away to other cities, to be
applied in new lands." Why?
For Trevor-Roper, the decisive factor was
a new alliance of Church and State, more
intolerable with each passing year, which
drove the new class of Catholic business-
men in some cases out of their church but
in many cases out of their native cities and
homelands. They sought cities no longer
under the control of princes and bishops;
they sought self-governing cities of a re-
publican character.
A sharp contrast arose between such cit-
ies' liberalism and the economic short-
sightedness of the Spanish Empire. Made
rich by silver from South and Central Amer-
ica, the Spaniards, who represented the
dominant Catholic state, misperceived the
basis of their new economic strength. Offi-
cials of Church and State grew ever more
numerous. They produced little, being par-
asitic upon the producers, whom they
gouged and regulated until the latter emi-
grated. With relative suddenness, then, the
strongholds of the Counter-Reformation
declined economically and northern Euro-
pean centers of commerce gained the as-


II
~
I!tI~
'I
I



hi, I ~;
,tI In
',.r
~"
A'J'14


CAl?BBEAN IKEIEW/19


'I .:- CA


Z


Isu~~ ~,









cendancy. Trevor-Roper concludes: "The
Calvinist and for that matter the Jewish en-
trepreneurs of northern Europe were not a
new native growth: they were an old growth
transplanted. Weber, in seeing the 'spirit of
Capitalism' as something new, whose ori-
gins must be sought in the sixteenth cen-
tury, inverted the problem. The novelty lay
not in the entrepreneurs themselves, but in
the circumstances which drove them to
emigrate."
The Counter-Reformation state at-
tempted to gain control of commerce. It
banned or restricted enterprise in the pri-
vate sector. It licensed certain entrepreneurs
to develop state monopolies; it favored state
mercantilism over private mercantilism. "It
was a change," Trevor-Roper reports,
"which occurred predominantly in coun-
tries of the Spanish clientele."
At the time of America's founding-Latin
America and North America alike-Spain
and Portugal were the world's dominant
and most active powers. But the philoso-
phers and theologians of Spain and Portu-
gal failed to grasp the inner secret that had
made them so and, careless of it, lost it. For
their colonies in the New World as well as for
their nations of birth, this failure of Catholic
intelligence was a calamity.
Latin Catholic theology remains in its
pre-modern phase, as is evident--and not
only in Latin lands-by such statements as
the following, by the Catholic bishops of
Peru in 1969: "Like other nations in the
Third World, we are the victims of systems
that exploit our natural resources, control
our political decisions, and impose on us
the cultural domination of their values and
consumer civilization.... The more we try to
change, the stronger the forces of domina-
tion become. Foreign interests increase
their repressive measures by means of eco-
nomic sanctions in the international mar-
kets and by control of loans and other types
of aid. News agencies and the communica-
tions media, which are controlled by the
powerful, do not express the rights of the
weak; they distort reality by filtering infor-
mation in accord with their vested
interests."
"We are the victims," the bishops say.
They accept no responsibility for three cen-
turies of hostility to trade, commerce, and
industry. They seem to imagine that loans
and aid should be tendered them indepen-
dent of economic laws, and that interna-
tional markets should operate without
economic sanctions. After having opposed
modern economics for centuries, they
claim to be aggrieved because others, once
equally poor, have succeeded as they have
not.
Are the bishops really expert in technical
matters of international trade? Before pro-
nouncing moral condemnation, do they
understand the laws that affect international
currencies? Do they wish to enjoy the


wealth of other systems without having first
learned how wealth may be produced and
without changing their own economic
teachings? The Peruvian aristocracy and
military were for three centuries under their
tutelage. Did the Peruvian bishops for three
centuries teach them that the vocation of
the layman was to produce wealth, eco-
nomic self-reliance, industry, and com-
merce, and to be creative stewards thereof?
This intellectual failure appears among
North American bishops as well. In an un-
signed pamphlet, "Development-Depen-
dency: The Role of Multinational Corpora-


Among Nobel Prize
winners in science,
Protestants have been
conspicuous.



tions" (1974), the Catholic bishops of the
United States say of themselves and their
people, "We are a people...deeply commit-
ted in theory, if not in practice, to the philos-
ophy or the ideology of free enterprise in the
old-fashioned sense of the word...." This
statement, in form an empirical statement,
is not true of the bishops themselves. It is
not true of most American economists.
The text and footnotes of the bishops'
statement are filled with misinformation
and innuendo. An example: "In the period
between 1950 and 1965, US private corpo-
rations invested $3.8 billion in Latin Amer-
ica. Part of the profits were retained in Latin
America to increase the total investment of
the companies concerned; part of the prof-
its were remitted to the United States. From
this investment of $3.8 billion, no less than
$11.3 billion in profits were remitted home
to the United States, while the profits re-
tained locally increased the investment of
$3.8 billion to $10.3 billion.
There are several confusions in this pas-
sage, even if we accept its highly problema-
tic figures. First, the total investment made
by US corporations between 1950 and
1965, as given, averages out to $253 mil-
lion per year. This does not seem like suffici-
ent money to make all of Latin America
"dependent." Second, the bishops ignore
investments made before 1950, which, as
we have seen, totaled $4.6 billion. This fig-
ure must be added to the $3.8 billion in-
vested during 1950-1965 to figure the base
on which a return is made. The bishops say
that with reinvested profits, total investment
during 1950-1965 reached $10.3 billion.
They do not give the cumulative total for the
pre-1950 period. Finally, the bishops say
that $11.3 billion in profits was remitted to
the United States during the fifteen years.
There is no way of telling, from their figures,


on what base of cumulative investment
these returns should be calculated. But per-
haps a simple illustration will do. Invested at
8% interest, money will double in about
twelve years. In fifteen years, at that rate of
return, an investment of $10 billion should
have more than doubled, simply if left in a
bank. If the bishops intended to shock their
readers concerning returns on Latin Amer-
ica investment during 1950-1965, they did
not make the case.

Dependency
Consider the assertion of Archbishop Dom
Helder Camara, of Brazil, before the World
Council of Churches in 1970: "It is a sad fact
that...80% of the world's resources are at the
disposal of 20% of the world's inhabitants."
This assertion is not exactly true. Most of the
world's oil, for example, appears to be in the
hands of Venezuela, Mexico, Nigeria, Saudi
Arabia, Kuwait, Libya, and Iran. Such curi-
ous expressions as "the Third World" and
"the South" mask many contradictions. It
cannot factually be said that all Third World
nations are poor. Furthermore, most of the
poor in the world-in India and other parts
of Asia, including China-are to be found
north of the equator. In fact, the word "re-
sources," as used by the Archbishop, must
also be stripped of ideology. What he de-
scribes as "a sad fact" is sad only if it is
looked at from one ideological perspective.
As a "fact" it is at best only partially true.
Quite diverse cultural histories lie behind it.
The combustion engine was invented
under democratic capitalism barely 150
years ago. The first oil well was dug in Titus-
ville, Pennsylvania, in 1859, and the first oil
well in the Middle East was dug only in
1908. Most of the materials we today call
resources were not known to be such before
the invention of a democratic-capitalist po-
litical economy; many were not known to be
such even a hundred years ago. Such mate-
rial remains inert until its secrets are dis-
covered and a technology for bending it to
human purposes is invented. The word "re-
sources," therefore, includes within its
meaning the factor of culture, of which dis-
covery and invention are expressions. Prot-
estant European culture, in particular, has
been exceedingly fertile in the discovery of
such resources and in the invention of such
technologies. Among Nobel Prize winners
in science, Protestants have been
conspicuous.
Thus Archbishop Camara might have
observed, in fairness: "It is a marvelous fact
that 80%-maybe even 90%-of the world's
resources have been discovered and put to
use during the past century by one of the
smaller cultures on the planet. The benefits
of such discoveries have been carried to
every continent, but more must now be
done in this direction." Dom Helder Ca-
mara, of course, was trying to make a moral
rather than a scientific point. Furthermore,


20/ CArBBEAN I VIe










he was trying to make an ideological point.
He was trying to suggest that there is some-
thing "sad" in the preeminence of a minor-
ity culture in the discovery of resources and
in the invention of technologies for using
them. Some cultures have organized their
political economy precisely for this pur-
pose. Others have not.
Nothing prevented Brazilians from in-
venting the combustion engine, the radio,
the airplane, penicillin, and technologies
that give resources their utility. Although
Brazil is apparently one of the most richly
endowed of all nations in material re-
sources, neither Brazil nor other Latin
American nations have so far provided a
system favorable to invention and discov-
ery. So, in a sense, the Archbishop's obser-
vation is merely a truism: Those cultures
that value the intelligent and inventive use
of God's creation are far better off than
those that do not. He cannot mean to imply
that intelligence and invention on the part of
some obstruct intelligence and invention
on the part of others, for that would be
absurd. Latin America is responsible for its
own condition. It had beginnings very like
those of Nortl America. The system estab-
lished there has not been as successful as
many would now like it to become.
As late at 1850, the difference between
the per capital income of Latin America and
that of North America was not great. Most of
the technologies the world now knows had
not then been invented. Oceangoing ves-
sels were still creaking wood and billowing
sail. Although steam-powered locomotives
were in use, they were still primitive and few.
Most agricultural labor was by hand, and
such machinery as had been invented-for
instance the reaper and the combine-was
pulled by animals. Highways were designed
for horseback, carriage, and cart. Wars were
fought with muskets and cannon.
In population, Latin America in 1850
numbered 33 million, the United States 23
million (and all North America 26 million).
Manufacturing was more highly developed
in a few states in North America than any-
where in Latin America, but both continents
were largely agricultural. The mining indus-
tries of Latin America were far more impor-
tant than those of North America. The
economy of Western Europe was stronger
than that of either continent of the New
World, and both continents depended upon
Europe for most of their manufactures. But
in some respects, certain regions of both
continents enjoyed a higher standard of liv-
ing than southern Italy, parts of Spain and
Portugal, and other sectors of Europe, and
both, therefore, attracted immigrants.
In 1850, Great Britain was just complet-
ing seventy straight years during which,
with a dynamism never before matched in
history, its economic output grew by an
average of nearly 2% a year. This seemingly
miraculous achievement introduced into


the world the reality of economic develop-
ment. It also gave material substance to the
notion of "progress," which had long fasci-
nated the imagination of the West. Spain
also had colonies but did not have similar
economic policies. In Britain, the law of pa-
tents had greatly stimulated invention, as
had the Royal Society. In every decade and
in almost every year, new technologies ex-
cited the populace. Invention was the
source of British wealth.
Why, then, did the paths of North Amer-
ica and Latin America dramatically diverge
after 1850? Why for the next hundred years


Latin America is
responsible for its own
condition.



did the economy of one remain almost
static while the other steadily but ever more
rapidly developed? During that century,
North America hardly needed Latin Amer-
ica. Latin America hardly needed North
America. The volume of trade between
them was highest in 1892, when the US
exported goods worth $96 million to Latin
America and imported $290 million worth.
Latin Americans do not value the same
moral qualities North Americans do. The
cultures see the world quite differently. Latin
Americans seem to feel inferior to North
Americans in practical matters but superior
in spiritual ones. In Latin American experi-
ence, powerful personages control almost
everything. From this experience, it is easy
to imagine that the whole world must work
this way, and to project such expectations
upon North America. It must be said, then,
that relations between North and South
America are emotional as well as eco-
nomic. The "Catholic" aristocratic ethic of
Latin America places more emphasis on
luck, heroism, status, and figure than the
relatively "Protestant" ethic of North Amer-
ica, which values diligence, regularity, and
the responsible seizure of opportunity.
Given two such different ways of looking at
the world, intense love-hate relations are
bound to develop. Looking at North Amer-
ica, Latins are likely to attribute its more
advanced status to luck-and also to a kind
of aristocratic power. In their experience,
wealth is relatively static, and what is given
to one is taken from another.
By contrast, looking at Latin America, a
North American is likely to attribute its
backwardness to an ethos better suited to
aristocrats, monks, and peasants, who lack
respect for commerce and industrial life
and the moral virtues on which these de-
pend. As Latin Americans do not admire
Northern virtues, North Americans do not
entirely approve of Latin virtues. Thus most


North Americans are likely to feel not a
shred of guilt for the relative economic posi-
tion of the two continents.
However, some North Americans are
susceptible to the guilt feelings that flow
from the reverse side of the "Protestant"
ethic: the demand for perfect charity. Some
feel unworthy of their own success. Some
take many accusations to heart. They are
inclined to believe Gustavo Guti&rrez's ac-
cusation in his best-selling A Theology of
Liberation: "The underdevelopment of
poor countries, as an overall social fact, ap-
pears in the historical by-product of the de-
velopment of other countries. The dynam-
ics of the capitalist economy lead to the
establishment of a center and a periphery,
simultaneously generating progress and
wealth for the few, and social imbalances,
political tensions, and poverty for the
many.
Gutierrez believes that the decisive libera-
tion for Latin America will be socialism: lib-
eration from private property. This is not a
theological interpretation of development
but an economic one. Moreover, his thesis
of dependency is only one economic theory
among many. It cannot be said to have bibli-
cal authority. It does not square with many
of the facts. It has many internal problems
of its own.
Official reports of the UN Economic
Commission on Latin America give the
most accurate portrait of the available facts.
A brilliant young scholar who worked for
that commission, Joseph Ramos, an econ-
omist for the UN's International Labor Or-
ganization and a professor at the Catholic
Latin American Institute on Doctrine and
Social Studies (ILADES), in Santiago, pre-
pared background papers on economics
for the Catholic bishops' meeting at Puebla
in 1979, and has elsewhere replied to
Gutierrez courteously and eloquently. In
what follows, I draw upon his assessment of
the economics of liberation theology, upon
the UN statistical record, and upon US De-
partment of Commerce reports. In particu-
lar, I follow his review of Gutierrez's book.
First, in embracing the dependency the-
ory and the center-periphery theory, Gutier-
rez inherits all the factual and theoretical
weaknesses of those theories. In an interde-
pendent world, every nation is dependent
upon every other. The most highly devel-
oped nations are quite dependent upon the
oil-producing nations, for example. If one
regards the oil nations as part of the periph-
ery, they are, clearly, able to exploit nations
in the center. If they are now to be located in
the center-having until recently been on
the periphery-then the original theory of
center-periphery is a truism: a "center" is
any self-reliant, economically active locale.
Second, Guti6rrez seems to think that
progress and riches in one place must sub-
tract from what is available in another place.
Continued on page 48


CARBBEAN PirIW/21











Absorbing the Caribbean



Labor Surplus

The Need for an Indigenous Engine of Growth

By Ransford W. Palmer


/ 0





s. "y


i i
Jamaican Piresident Edward Seaga.


Caribbean peoples historically have
not had many options. Their ances-
tors did not opt for leaving Africa;
they were taken. And when they arrived in
the Caribbean, they did not opt for colonial-
ism; it was the established institution. Even
the West Indies Federation which was to
have replaced colonialism was not a Carib-
bean option; it was in fact a metropolitan
perception of what the Commonwealth
Caribbean ought to have become. Regret-
table as it may have been to many, the
breaking away of Jamaica in 1961 was
probably the first real exercise of a political
option by an English-speaking Caribbean
people. While national political indepen-
Ransford W. Palmer teaches Economics at
Howard University. This article is adapted from
his presidential address before the Vllth
Annual Meeting of the Caribbean Studies
Association, Kingston, Jamaica, May, 1982.


dence has indeed stimulated Jamaicans
and other Caribbean peoples to reach for
indigenous resources, their economic op-
tions are still by and large controlled by
external engines of growth.
Centuries of colonialism and countless
analyses of the limitations of small size have
indoctrinated the Caribbean into perceiving
its economy as defined exclusively by exter-
nal forces. Consequently, post-indepen-
dence development strategies were largely
predicated upon metropolitan decisions to
enlarge the market for Caribbean exports
and to increase the supply of capital and
technology for their production. But experi-
ence has indicated that these external deci-
sions also encouraged a pattern of growth
and development that reinforced the pri-
orities of the external decision makers. As a
reaction, Caribbean governments during
the 1970s began to underscore the need for


growth and development patterns that rein-
force domestic priorities. For such patterns
to become truly operational, the Caribbean
must systematically build an indigenous
engine of growth capable of exploiting ex-
ternal opportunities.
Local Ownership
Political independence has provided the ve-
hicle for asserting the economic sov-
ereignty necessary for mobilizing a
country's resources in accordance with its
national development priorities. For many
Caribbean countries, the assertion of eco-
nomic sovereignty has taken the form of the
localization of ownership through national-
ization of major industries, as well as
through joint-venture arrangements. These
strategies are a reaction to the progressive
transnationalization of the region during the
1950s and 1960s, a time when Caribbean
governments pursued "industrialization by
invitation" strategies.
While local ownership is a necessary step
in the pursuit of national development pri-
orities, it certainly is not a sufficient one. For
even if 100% of everything is locally owned,
the Caribbean will not be able to reduce its
vulnerability to external shocks without the
backward and forward linkages being in
place. The task of local ownership therefore
is to direct resources into the development
of those linkages which the lack of local
ownership has ostensibly allowed to lie
fallow. Nationalization of the so-called com-
manding heights of local economies may
not by itself enhance the performance of
this task, simply because no new invest-
ment resources are created by such owner-
ship. One might even argue that there is
likely to be a net reduction in resources,
since the national acquisition of ownership
usually must be paid for out of future tax
revenues. Thus the initial benefits from lo-
cal ownership through nationalization may
be limited to national pride.
In the long run, the extent to which the
nationalization enhances domestic control
over the process of structural transforma-
tion will depend on the competitiveness of
these industries in international markets
and the growth of these markets. If the ac-
quisition of national ownership by itself will


22/ CAlBBCAN rFEIvE

























not enhance the performance of exports in
these markets, neither will it increase the
flow of profits for investment in structural
transformation. The recent economic his-
tory of Jamaica is a clear illustration of this.
National ownership of the sugar and baux-
ite industries and portions of the hotel in-
dustry in the 1970s was followed by
declining production.
Yet some measure of national ownership
is desirable when essential institutions with
the power to mobilize resources are domi-
nated by foreign corporations. Financial in-
stitutions easily come to mind. It is not
surprising that in many developing coun-
tries, not only have governments acquired a
substantial share of the ownership of private
financial institutions, but they have also es-
tablished complementary public financial
institutions to mobilize financial resources
as an essential first step toward the creation
of greater employment opportunities and
the ultimate reduction of the surplus labor.

Anatomy of the Labor Surplus
Because the magnitude of the surplus labor
in the English-speaking Caribbean is great-
est in Jamaica, it is worth focusing on the
data for Jamaica. I have arbitrarily chosen
the unemployment data for 1979, the year
which, according to the Economic and
Social Survey, was characterized by "ab-
normally depressed labor market condi-
tions." But I could just as well have chosen
1978 or 1980 since in all these years, the
unemployment rate exceeded 25%.
In October 1979, according to the De-
partment of Statistics, the number of per-
sons unemployed in Jamaica was 299,100
out of a total labor force of 962,500, yielding
an unemployment rate of 31%. In devel-
oped countries such a national unemploy-
ment rate would mean an economic
depression of cataclysmic proportions. In
developing countries, it is regarded as just
one of the characteristics of under-
development.
The Jamaican govemment defines the
unemployed labor force as "all persons who
were actively seeking work as well as those
persons who although they were not actu-
ally seeking work indicated that they were
willing to accept a job and were in a position


to do so." And it classifies the unemployed
into "seekers of jobs" and "non-seekers of
jobs." Those who were classified as non-
seekers answered "None" to the question
"What steps did you take to get a job?" Of
the 299,100 reported unemployed persons
in October 1979, 60% were classified as
non-seekers. The main reason put forward
for their not seeking jobs is the "relative
unavailability of jobs in many areas." It
could be argued, however, that many of the
non-seekers opted for leisure rather than
take jobs which did not fulfill their income
and social expectations, and that they were
able to make this choice because they
could rely on what Henry Bruton calls a
"sharing mechanism" that would sustain
them until they found a job. This argument
is reinforced by the data which show that
53% of the documented unemployed were
under the age of 25, and that an almost
identical percentage (54%) of those unem-
ployed were supported by parents, guard-
ians, or other relatives, while 28% were
supported by spouses or common-law
partners. It is of interest to note that twice as
many non-seekers (35%) as seekers (17%)
were supported by spouses or common-
law partners. The main reason for this im-
balance is the predominance of females
among the non-seekers. The October 1979
data show 139,100 female non-seekers
compared to 41,000 male. Of the males,
only 800 received spousal and common-
law support, while 63,100 of the females
did.
Despite the support mechanism that sus-
tains the unemployed, the problem of pov-
erty associated with unemployment and
under-employment in the Caribbean is se-
vere. For as Trevor Farrell reminds us in his
analysis of unemployment in Trinidad and
Tobago, "the argument that unemployment
among the young and dependent bears no
necessary link with household poverty ig-
nores the fact that there is an operant class
system. As such, one suggests that unem-
ployed, dependent youth are likely to come
disproportionately out of poor, proletarian
households without 'connections' and
which need extra income, rather than out of
affluent middle-class households. This
means that unemployment will in fact tend


to correlate with poverty" (Social and Eco-
nomic Studies, June 1978). Moreover,
there is the likelihood that a permanent
group of unemployables will develop-
people who have been out of work for so
long that they are unable to acquire the right
kind of attitudes that success in a hierarchi-
cal work environment requires.

An Indigenous Engine of Growth
How rapidly the Caribbean economy ab-
sorbs its surplus over the next two decades
depends on its success in generating lo-
cally-rooted economic impulses to create
employment. Currently, the primary em-
ployment-creating impulses reside for the
most part in North America and Europe,
where the high value-added created by
each worker assures a high level of demand
for a complex market basket of goods and
services. In the current international
scheme of things, the Caribbean caters to
this demand through the export of raw and
semi-finished products whose local value-
added is typically low. Through the trickle-
down mechanism of international trade, the
expansion of demand in North America
and Europe increases employment in the
Caribbean. In recent years this external en-
gine of growth has begun to slow down.
As long as Caribbean countries remain
small open primary-goods-exporting
economies, the character of the trickle-
down mechanism of international trade will
be governed by the pace of growth of the
industrial users of these goods, whoever
they may be. It is the industrial bias of this
trickle-down mechanism that an indige-
nous engine of growth must exploit. Indige-
nous engines of growth are industrial
sectors which intensively use local raw ma-
terials, labor, capital, and managerial exper-
tise to produce for the local as well as for the
foreign market. This implies substantial lo-
cal ownership as well as a low share of im-
ports in the total production cost of finished
products.
Like Clive Thomas, I argue that "an effec-
tive industrialization strategy must seek the
vertical integration of the demand structure
with domestic resource use." But unlike
Thomas, who espouses production for do-
mestic needs within a context of compre-


CARBBEAN FCOEW/23









hensive planning and progressive disen-
gagement from international capitalism, I
see the aggressive exploitation of interna-
tional markets as an essential function of an
indigenous engine of growth. The fact that a
development strategy encourages indige-
nous development does not mean that it
must disengage the economy from the rest
of the world. The real test of a strategy of
indigenous industrial development is the
extent to which it allows a small economy to
exploit the markets of the world. Here I draw
support from Bela Belassa who argues that:
"The flexibility of the national economy is
greater under an outward-oriented than an
inward-oriented strategy. In the former case,
firms have been exposed to competition in
world markets and have acquired experi-
ence in changing their product composi-
tion in response to shifts in foreign demand.
By contrast, under inward orientation, there
is generally limited competition in the con-
fines of the narrow domestic market and
firms have little inducement to innovate,
which is necessary under outward orienta-
tion in order to meet competition from
abroad" (World Development, January
1982). The extent to which this indigenous
engine will absorb local labor will depend
not only on its success in exploiting foreign
markets but also on the labor intensity of
the production methods adopted.

Manufacturing
Whatever comparative advantage Jamaica
has had in manufacturing for the export
market has been in the production of those
goods with a local resource base. The out-
standing examples are alcoholic beverages,
tobacco, and tobacco products. These were
the only manufacturing industries which


experienced growth in real output during
the declining 1970s. Most of the others op-
erated far below capacity because the dry-
ing up of foreign reserves severely restricted
the import of raw materials and equipment.
Thus as we move from the local resource
base end of the manufacturing spectrum to
those industries with a predominantly for-
eign resource base, the performance (and
therefore the competitive position) of the
manufacturing sectortended to deteriorate.
Yet if the manufacturing sector is to develop
a strong indigenous core, the growth of
such import-dependent industries as pe-


While local ownership is a
necessary step in pursuit
of national development
priorities, it certainly is not
a sufficient one.


troleum refining and machinery and equip-
ment which provide intermediate inputs for
other industries is crucial.
While a domestic raw material base facili-
tates the development of comparative ad-
vantage in a number of manufacturing
industries, it is not a sufficient determinant
of the indigenous character of an industrial
engine of growth. Few would dispute the
fact that the large chocolate manufacturing
industry in Hershey, Pennsylvania, has been
an indigenous engine of growth for that city.
Yet America does not produce cocoa
beans. Indeed, throughout much of the ad-
vanced industrial world, many indigenous


engines of growth have been built on raw
materials produced in distant developing
countries. Perhaps more than most indus-
trial countries, Japan has shown that an
indigenous industrial development can be
based on imported raw materials. Yet as
critical as these raw materials are, they rep-
resent a relatively small share of the total
cost of industrial production in these
countries.
The small size of Caribbean countries
has frequently been displayed by econo-
mists as a factor limiting similar develop-
ment. But the limitations of small size are
themselves governed by the stock of
human capital and the quality of institu-
tional organization, which together can
generate policy decisions that can tran-
scend some of these limitations. In the final
analysis, the indigenous character of indus-
trial development is determined by these
very decisions.
To understand the evolution of manufac-
turing as an engine of growth in Jamaica,
we must look back a few decades. Follow-
ing the lead of Puerto Rico in the 1950s,
many Caribbean countries actively encour-
aged the development of light manufactur-
ing industries through industrial incentive
legislation. For these small countries with
rapidly increasing populations, the oppor-
tunity to combine captial and labor with
very little land to produce goods for a large
number of people had an exotic appeal.
And when Arthur Lewis published his path-
breaking explanation of the economic
growth process in developing countries, he
provided policymakers in these countries
with the theoretical justification for encour-
aging the development of a modern indus-
trial sector with light manufacturing as its


24/ CA?BBEAN 1NVIEW









centerpiece. With beautiful simplicity, Lewis
argued that the industrial sector would ex-
pand by mixing capital with an unlimited
supply of labor from the rural sector. As the
rural labor surplus is absorbed into higher-
paying jobs in the industrial sector, agri-
cultural productivity would rise to meet the
increase in the demand for food and raw
materials. In reality, this beautifully simple
relationship failed to develop in the Carib-
bean. For one thing, the growth of man-
ufacturing in the 1950s and 1960s was led
by import-substitution industries which had
only the slimmest of ties with the local agri-
cultural sector. For another, industrial in-
centives provided by the government had
the perverse effect of encouraging the sub-
stitution of scarce capital for abundant la-
bor. Mahmood Ali Ayub has encapsulated
the Jamaican industrialization experience
as follows: "The combination of duty-free or
low-duty imports of capital goods, the
choice of products designated as approved
under the incentive laws, the generous de-
preciation allowances, and quantitative re-
strictions on final products have encour-
aged rather capital-intensive investment in
an economy where the unemployment rate
averages about 25%" (Made in Jamaica,
World Bank Staff Occasional Papers, No.
31, 1981). It is not surprising, therefore, that
during most of the 1960s, the share of cor-
porate profits in national income grew from
11% in 1963 to 14% in 1969, while compen-
sation to employees hovered about 61%.
Even during the "socialist" 1970s, when
capital investment declined sharply, the
lending policies of commercial banks con-
tinued to subsidize commercial borrowers
by offering them loans at interest rates far
below the inflation rate. In 1979, for exam-
ple, the interest rate on commercial loans
made by commercial banks in Jamaica was
11% while the rate of inflation was 29%. This
in effect meant that borrowers paid a nega-
tive real interest rate of 18%. The interest
rate subsidy to borrowers of capital was par-
alleled by an interest penalty on those who
acquired savings deposits out of their wage
income. The data for 1979 show that com-
mercial banks in Jamaica paid 7% on sav-
ings deposits, which meant that at a 29%
rate of inflation, holders of these deposits
received a negative real interest rate of 22%.
Given the fact that the price of capital has
been artificially lowered by both public and
private institutional arrangements, is it any
wonder that the development of manufac-
turing in Jamaica has had a capital-inten-
sive bias? Yet, despite its capital intensive
bias, Jamaican manufacturing did show
some promise of absorbing a substantial
amount of labor. During the period 1969 to
1973, for example, a 1% increase in real
manufacturing output generally increased
manufacturing employment by 0.6%. Even
if we regard this as a low employment re-
sponse, it meant that a 10% growth in real


manufacturing output would absorb labor
at a rate twice as fast as that of the growth of
the labor force. But in the latter part of the
1970s, the promise died from a combina-
tion of local and external shocks: local
shocks arising from a political philosophy
of state supremacy in economic affairs and
external shocks arising from sharp in-
creases in import prices reinforced by ex-
change rate devaluations. Real manufactur-
ing output plunged from J$400 million in
1973 to J$275 million in 1980, helping to
sinkthe Jamaican economy into eight con-
secutive years of negative growth.


The initial benefits from
local ownership through
nationalization may be
limited to national pride.



Out of the ashes of the 1970s, an interest-
ing statistical phenomenon has emerged.
When one looks at the period 1976-1979,
one finds that while employment in man-
ufacturing establishments having ten or
more workers steadily declined, employ-
ment in small establishments (those with
fewer than ten workers) steadily rose. The
conclusion that we are left to draw from this
is that had it not been for small establish-
ments, the overall decline in manufacturing
employment would have been more severe.
It is not possible to say from the statistics the
extent to which workers laid off by large
establishments started their own manufac-
turing enterprises or were absorbed by
smaller enterprises. Whatever actually hap-
pened, the statistics underscore the impor-
tance of the role of the small establishment
in the manufacturing sector as an employer
of labor. All this suggests that if employ-
ment is given top priority in the country's
development strategy over the next two
decades, small manufacturing establish-
ments should be given special incentives to
contribute to that employment. Govern-
ment policy should not lose sight of the fact,
however, that what the unemployed worker
needs most is not top priority but a job.

The Future of
Manufacturing Employment
By the year 2000, the Jamaican population
is expected to be 3 million, with a labor force
of roughly 1.4 million-40% larger than that
of 1980. If the manufacturing sector is to
employ, say, 20% of that labor force, it would
have to expand fast enough to absorb
280,000 workers-a little over three-and-
one-half times what it now employs. In other
words, it would have to increase employ-
ment at an annual rate of 6.6% to employ an
additional 200,000 workers. Assuming that


the degree of labor intensity of manufactur-
ing remains the same as it was in 1980, i.e.,
278 workers producing J$1 million of real
manufacturing output (at 1974 prices),
then total real manufacturing output would
almost quadruple by the year 2000 to
slightly over J$1 billion, assuming an an-
nual growth rate of 6.6% over the twenty-
year period. Thus, given the labor intensity
of production, the rate of growth of man-
ufacturing employment would be the same
as that of real output. To maintain the same
labor intensity, capital investment would
have to grow at the same rate as
employment.
If we assume, conservatively, that it takes
a modest J $5,000 of capital to create a job
place, then in order for manufacturing to
create 200,000 job places between 1980
and 2000, J$1 billion (at 1980 prices)
would have to be invested in that sector
alone. Whether or not this kind of invest-
ment is forthcoming will depend among
other things upon the prospects of quad-
rupling the market for manufactured
output.
Any flow of large amounts of subsidized
private foreign capital into manufacturing
Continued on page 51




Florida International
University now offers
an interdisciplinary Master of
Arts program in International
Studies with an emphasis on
socio-economic development.
The program seeks to train
individuals for employment
with governments, private
enterprise and international
organizations. Courses in the
program are offered by
faculty in Political Science,
History, Economics,
International Affairs,
Sociology and Anthropology.


For further information
contact:
Dr. Farrokh Jhabvala
Florida International
University
Tamiami Trail
Miami, Florida 33199
(305) 554-2555.


CAIFBBEAN FEVIEW/25












Interviewing



Michael Manley

The Role of the Opposition in Jamaica

By Janis Johnson and Robert A. Rankin


Michael Manley, prime minister of
Jamaica from 1972 to 1980, was
turned out of power after a bitter,
violent election campaign in which some
700 Jamaicans died. His successor Ed-
ward Seaga, swept into office with 59% of
the vote. Seaga, a graduate of Harvard
University, champions private enterprise
and has been called President Reagan's
model leader for Third World nations.
Seaga in fact originated the idea which
became Reagan's Caribbean Basin Initia-
tive and was the first foreign head of state
invited to Washington by the US president.
Manley, a vice president of the Socialist
International, remains prominent as an
advocate of Third World socialism and the
non-aligned movement He is the leader
of the People's National Party, Jamaica's
loyal opposition. He was interviewed in
Kingston on May 19 by freelance writer
Janis Johnson and Robert A Rankin of
The Miami Herald.
Robert A. Rankin: Is the honeymoon
over for Seaga?
Michael Manley: He has been able to
mobilize a tremendous amount of loan sup-
port and this has helped stabilize the situa-
tion with the International Monetary Fund
and ease the foreign exchange crisis partic-
ularly as it affected our ability to service
debt Obviously this has restored our finan-
cial credit
There has been a tremendous change for
the better in Jamaica. I think the real cause
for that is that once the election resolved
one set of tensions, we as an opposition
have deliberately done everything as quietly
as possible, giving the country every
chance to try to catch its breath and recover.
This has had the obvious benefit of giving
the country a breathing space from the sort
of confrontationist politics that Seaga im-
posed upon Jamaica he thrust upon
Jamaica almost without letup from 1976
to 1980.
I think the country paid a high price for it
They got what they wanted, which was to
win. They obviously have no further interest
in confrontation because they are now in
power. And we have not tried to get into the
tit-for-tat game. The country has benefitted
from that.


The government claims that the stabiliza-
tion of financial relations with the interna-
tional banking system is recovery. From
one point of view obviously it is. On the
other hand in terms of economic recovery,
we are very badly behind schedule. There
has been no significant increase in produc-
tion. Sugar is down, bananas are down,
bauxite is down. Tourism is up to some
extent but the moneyed tourist is not back
yet. Behind all the propaganda they're se-
cretly worried.
Seaga made a series of concrete predic-
tions about the rate at which certain pro-
ductive targets would be overtaken; that
within three years, this industry, that indus-
try and the other industry would have
reached a specific point. Every single one
has already had to be amended, some by
two years, some by one. And it is quite clear
that they have not really achieved a produc-
tive momentum.
In foreign investment they had expected
a lot more to happen in terms of capital
inflow than has in fact taken place.
RAR: We have been reading in the Ja-
maican press about strikes increasing in
certain industries. What should the govem-
ment's response be?
MM: Jamaica has always been a strike-
prone society, not as bad as Britain but
probably worse than America. Some of the
difficulties that are surfacing in the labor
movement are arising because employers
are beginning to rough up the game. Em-
ployers feel that their side is in power, that
their man is there, and I think they are be-
having accordingly.
There is the case of a factory in the King-
ston Industrial Estate called Servwel Ltd.
which behaved really quite shockingly for
about a year while we tried to get negotia-
tions going. They just wouldn't come to the
bargaining table and always found an ex-
cuse not to come. After about a year, the
workers lost patience and staged a stop-
page. That employer who had dealt with
unions for years, in an astonishing act, fired
79 workers and replaced them with men
that he had recruited in the prime minister's
constituency. It has led to tribunal hearings
and to the supreme court.
Another example is in a New York-owned


brassiere factory in Port Maria on the north
coast. Local negotiations took place and an
agreement was arrived at; when the em-
ployer in New York heard about what his
representatives had settled for, he just uni-
laterally countermanded half of it. Now you
have a strike there. He responded by firing
all the workers. Our union has had to take
out an injunction against him. It's a messy
business.
Those are some examples. You may find
that this becomes an increasing problem.
The government is tied to an economic
strategy which is predicated upon a certain
kind of labor pliancy, a pliant labor force that
is attractive to the foreign investor. The
workers are put increasingly under pressure
to behave themselves and not rock the boat.
RAR: You have been critical of the Rea-
gan administration's Caribbean Basin
Initiative.
MM: Speaking personally and for the op-
position, we approve of the increased eco-
nomic aid to the region. To the extent that
there has been an incremental $350 mil-
lion, we think that is good. We strongly ap-
prove of the one-way free trade idea. We
think that is an excellent positive step. We
have merely reminded everybody that that
is exactly what Europe has been doing for
10 years under the Lom6 Convention to the
former African, Caribbean, and Pacific colo-
nies of one or another of the European
empires. We think this is a parallel develop-
ment, equally good; an excellent develop-
ment which I hope will not be destroyed in
Congress because of interest groups.
On the other hand, we do not approve of
the military element, of the incremental mil-
itary aid. We think that quite enough military
hardware is passing through this region al-
ready. The amount of military aid that is
contemplated ought to be converted into
economic aid.
Our second criticism is that the plan does
not contemplate funneling some of the in-
cremental assistance to the existing re-
gional institutions, particularly the Carib-
bean Development Bank. The plan is too
purely bilateral and doesn't look at regional
possibilities such as the need to assist in the
regional integration to which CARICOM is
nominally devoted.


26/CAI?BBEAN KVIEW

























Nearly every other Caribbean territory
shares my view. Seaga is the only person
who does not make that criticism. Bar-
bados has made the point. The new winner
in St. Lucia, Compton, has made the point
The Trinidadians have made the point The
plan disregards the infrastructural needs of
the smaller territories. They need help with
their infrastructure so they can get to the
point where they can take off economically.
Our final criticism is: It is a bad thing to
declare a regional plan and then discrimi-
nate within the region. Either you say, "We
are extending our bilateral relations," in
which case, fine, that is America's inaliena-
ble right. But to claim that you are carrying
out a regional plan and naming it a Carib-
bean basin regional plan is contradicted by
the exclusion of certain countries. And we
ask the question: How can you justify leav-
ing out Nicaragua and Grenada but includ-
ing what 1 have previously described as
"dictatorships knee-deep in blood" like
Guatemala and Honduras? How can you
justify the inclusion of those countries and
the exclusion of Nicaragua and Grenada in
what you have chosen to describe as a re-
gional plan?
I was very pleased to see Congress had
decided to put a country limit of $75 mil-
lion. 1 am interested to see if the White
House is going to accept it because they
want to plunk money into El Salvador in
particular. I rather approve of the congres-
sional action because putting a limit forces
a more equitable spread of the benefits to
the region as a whole.
How can I tell the United States of Amer-
ica what to do? You are a sovereign nation,
the most powerful in the world. You can do
whatever you want to do. I'm not saying you
don't have the right to put a billion dollars
into El Salvador if you want to. What I'm
saying is that if you're going to come to the
region and say this is for all of you, this is a
new start, it is for the great principle of hemi-
spheric cooperation, then you contradict
your declared purpose when you pick out El
Salvador for special treatment and exclude
other countries from anything at all. You
really are not entitled to have the best of
both worlds!
Janis Johnson: What is your evaluation


Jamaican ex-President Michael Manley.


of the sandinista regime?
MM: My view of Nicaragua is this: I think
that they have tried to work in a pluralist
direction. They certainly have tried to coop-
erate with their private sector and to mobi-
lize it as part of the whole revolutionary
reconstruction. From the very start they
have been put under tremendous pressure
by elements of their private sector that
would not cooperate and in fact have tried
to sabotage the economic recovery. Later-
ally they have been put under tremendous
pressure from external forces, partly the old
Somoza forces operating out of neighbor-
ing countries. They certainly are put under
tremendous pressure by the Reagan ad-
ministration not by the Carter admin-
istration by the Reagan administration.
As the revolution has kept trying to be plu-
ralist and moderate, it has found itself put to
the sword in a number of ways internally
and externally, and to preserve itself it has
tended to radicalize. I attach great impor-
tance to their own declaration that if the
outside world would just give them a
chance to settle down, that they will hold
free and full elections by 1985. That has
been said at the most solemn level of inter-
national seriousness.
RAR: Has the sandinista regime made
it more difficult for Social Democrats in the
hemisphere?
MM: Atremendous effort has been made
by the United States to use Nicaragua as a
means of embarrassing Social Democrats.
The US is forcing the pace all the time,
trying to make an issue out of it, accusing
Nicaragua of involvement in El Salvador,
and then unable to come forward with one
shred of proof. My suspicion as to what


really lay behind the cancellation of the So-
cialist International February meeting in
Caracas was that certain people who had to
face elections were afraid that being in-
volved in a conference with Nicaragua
would prove that they had communist or
crypto-communist [views] or were soft on
communism, and so they were protecting
their own electoral flanks. I pay them all the
courtesy of assuming that they're more in-
telligent than to think that Nicaragua is a
communist cats-paw when it really isn't.
JJ: Does anything the sandinistas have
done alarm you?
MM: Obviously one has to be concerned
about their relations with the press. Nobody
pretends that they have not done things that
perhaps one might have hoped they would
not have. But I come back to the broader
question: What is the broad thrust of what
they are doing? It is clear they are trying to
remain pluralist They are trying to do some
fine work at the social level with literacy and
education. A pluralism has emerged from a
bitter revolutionary struggle. The country
was flattened by Somoza. A scorched earth
policy has never been more ruthlessly ap-
plied in a country than did Somoza. Their
country was flattened, came out of a blood-
bath that was inescapable, is struggling to
recover, is trying to be pluralist, is asking for
help, particularly for help to be allowed to be
pluralist
We just don't have any sense of propor-
tion about it. Our real concern ought to be
to mobilize public opinion against the peo-
ple who are sabotaging them intemally, like
some of their own private sector, people
who are stealing foreign exchange out of
the country. If the world would surround


CAffBBEAN PEVIEW/27


Ce
I-


I-
--
-J
F_


\/










them with a little protective public opinion
and they then behaved in a rather total-
itarian way in marginal instances, [there
would be] time enough to turn around and
say, "Hey, we're not going to support you if
you do that." But what happens is people
put them to the sword.
We are quite uncompromising in our
support. As long as we are assured of their
broad pluralist commitment, to work for
their people and behave with a residue of
restraint, we think they deserve to be
supported.
RAR: Mr. Seaga has argued that when
you were in power youwere taking Jamaica
down the same path Castro took in Cuba.
MM: Quite simply, Seaga is a liar. When
Seaga triedto saythatwe were trying to take
Jamaica down Cuba's path, he not only was
a liar, he knew he was a liar. And if he says it
now he's still a liar. It's as simple as that. You
have only to look at what we did. It had
nothing to do with the Cuban model. We
were trying to run a mixed economy. We
were importing millions of dollars for spe-
cial foreign exchange to support our private
sector. There just aren't any parallels at all.
But in foreign policy, we worked with
Cuba in the nonaligned movement, we
worked with them for the new international
economic order. We, like they, felt strongly
about the liberation struggle in southern
Africa. And from a different ideological per-
spective, there were certain things we felt
similarly about. We felt that this region
would benefit if we would all forget about
ideology and build up common shipping
lines, find areas of economic cooperation
where we did things as a region and didn't
worry too much about Mexico's political
form or Cuba's political form or Jamaica's
political form. But of course, if anybody
deals with Cuba in an honorable, principled
and arms-length way in this region, he sets
himself up as a propaganda target.
Seaga used it ruthlessly, with complete
cynicism. He's far too intelligent to have
believed in all the stuff he talked about.
When President Reagan says that Seaga
saved Jamaica from communism, you only
have two choices: He's either a fool or a liar.
Because it's just not true; it's patently not
true. After all, we didn't invite [Reagan] to
come and insult Jamaica or insult the PNP
[People's National Party] or insult us. I mean
here I am, an honorable vice president of
the Socialist International, the heartland of
Social Democracy, accused of trying to turn
Jamaica into a communist country!
RAR: If Cuba was notthe model you were
trying to follow, what was?
MM: What we were always interested in
was the Scandinavian experiment, Norway
and Sweden in particular. I have always
been interested in the way that worked, the
cooperatives, mixed economy, strong state
sector, working for industrial democracy
through worker participation. A lot of what


we do is born of our own thinking. If you
insist upon parallels, I think the nearest par-
allel to what we were trying to do is a coun-
try like Norway or Sweden. There is no
question that we were sandbagged in the
propaganda.
RAR: You've had 18 months out of
power now. Would you have done anything
differently?
MM: The most important thing that we
are concerned about is how to get our pri-
vate sector to understand that the propa-
ganda that we want to destroy them just isn't
true. We were trying for eight and a half


In terms of economic
recovery, we are very badly
behind schedule.


years to say to our private sector: "The fact
that we are working for social justice, trying
to set up a mixed economy and dealing with
the whole problem of an egalitarian econ-
omy does not mean that you won't have a
completely honorable and dynamic place
in it. We want you to grow and expand and
play your part and pull everything along."
But we never really got that through to
them. They always worried that somewhere
we were really secretly trying to do them in.
We are working very hard at the moment
to try to studythe whole sequence of events.
Where did it go wrong? Where did they get
this into their heads? How much was our
fault? How much was their fault? How much
was opposition? We regard that as a critical
part of what we have to do in opposition. We
are taking this period in opposition to try to
find out where it went wrong, to develop
strategies so that it can't happen again be-
cause we want to change the policy. The
most important thing that has happened in
our movement is that it has reconfirmed the
conviction that what we were trying to do is
basically right. The party spent the whole of
the first year in intensive introspection at all
the levels of our democratic process and
came up with that unanimous view.
RAR: Is your party more united now?
MM: I don't know of any Democratic So-
cialist or any Social Democrat party in the
world that doesn't have a left and a right
wing. There is always the more and less
radical elements. The problem of politics
within that kind of movement is to find a
path that both support. I think people often
exaggerate the extent to which we were in-
ternally torn. But there has always been in-
ternal tension. It goes back to my father's
time, back to 1940.
RAR: We don't hear much talk about the
new international economic order." It
doesn't seem to have the currency it did a
few years ago.
MM: The new economic order wasn't


that primary. It was a foreign policy goal but
an additional goal. Our first goal was to
create in Jamaica an economy that was
socially responsive. Because we did not see
[the economy] as an experiment in pure
market forces, we recognized a responsibil-
ity to direct the economy towards deep so-
cialist objectives. Now that's a simple
statement of fundamental objectives. To
achieve that means that there are certain
areas of the economy that the state might
have to own.
We were very concerned as our second
objective in how to democratize the econ-
omy. That means a powerful interest in land
reform of a certain kind, with a major em-
phasis in people participation in the use of
land. To insure large-scale benefits that
come from larger organization of the land
[we have developed an] interest in coopera-
tives. That is why we had a strong desire to
experiment with the cooperative form, why
we put tremendous emphasis on land re-
form itself. We were also interested in the
whole industrial democracy idea, because
the more you can democratize the worker's
role in the workplace, the more you are
democratizing control and ownership of the
economy. Even the United Auto Workers in
Detroit is experimenting with it now. We've
been talking about this for 15 or 20 years.
Incidentally in all of that, we always favor
foreign capital but we never believed that a
country should make foreign capital its
deus ex machine, the thing that is going to
solve its problems. We wanted to maximize
our local efforts and have foreign capital
help with capital formation, technology and
things; rather than just saying, "We're so
small we can't do anything ourselves, let us
go for nothing but foreign capital." We think
it is a very important difference in emphasis
- maximize self-reliance but want foreign
capital. We went to the trouble of working
out a foreign capital code, a foreign invest-
ment code which we put through Parlia-
ment and every foreign investor who has
ever looked at it said it was first-class, fully
respects the rights of foreign capital, etc. All
these things we thought were correct and
still think are correct.
In foreign policy we obviously felt that we
should work for changes in the way the
world economic system works. It is not
going to come as quickly as we had hoped.
But we have always [believed] that the
South should cooperate a lot more inside
itself. There are an awful lot of things that
the countries of the Third World could do,
by planned cooperation, which they are not
doing right now, which would strengthen
their economic base and add an additional
dimension to the independence which we
are supposed to enjoy politically.
RAR: Would cooperatives imply state
ownership?
MM: Groups of people in an area would
own the co-ops. The state would have ser-


28/ CAIBBEAN rI' 1E










vices and marketing and things of that sort.
We wanted to have cooperatives where the
groups of people feel, "This is our stake."
Instead of each one by himself, out of coop-
erative aggregate each would get the ca-
pacityto enjoy benefits of the common level
of skill and advantages.
When you look at agriculture, really, what
are the choices? Either to hold to the old
private plantation concept which creates an
impossible social relationship. Or you can
go for state-ownership. But again you'd get
thousands of acres but then you'd have the
problem of how to get them to work be-
cause again [the workers] don't have a per-
sonal stake. Or you have to find something
that tries to get as many people involved in
the land as possible, yet enables it to be
efficient; hence the emphasis on coopera-
tives. Your American experience is so differ-
ent; you don't have to see your land as part
of your unemployment strategy. You see the
unemployment problem as a factory prob-
lem, or a service industry problem. If we
don't use our land as part of our unemploy-
ment strategy, we're going to have 25% un-
employment further. And if Seaga thinks
he's going to solve the unemployment
problem without using the land as part of
the strategy, he's got an awful shock com-
ing to him.
JJ: What is your vision of the future?
MM: Our mission has to be to create a
just society and to form that society on the
maximum economic independence that
can be attained. Economic independence
(not a crazy autarchy, nobody can do it
themselves) is a necessary precondition to
genuinely achieving either social justice or
a feeling of psychological independence.
Maximizing your capacity to control your
own economy, minimizing its dependence
on any one source of hegemonic power,
doing your best to have diversified external
links and.the greatest degree of internal
control over your economy is possible.
We think the dependent countries that
have chosen the satellite route find that they
can't really deal with social justice because
they tie themselves to an absolute depen-
dence on an outside power. This under-
mines them psychologically, and perhaps
even more dangerously, means that they
are constantly having to determine their
policies by reference to the outside force.
What will it accept? What conditions will it
demand?
When the foreign capital comes pouring
in, that enables your middle class to buy
Cadillacs and Mercedes Benzes and what-
ever they like a spectacular level of living
- because the foreign exchange which
comes with foreign capital creates an artifi-
cial capacity to import. It is a very attractive
strategy for any middle class, because all
middle classes want to live at the highest
standard. They read the same Vogue maga-
zines, the same Harper's Bazaars. But


what's the price you pay in terms of internal
social dynamics? We think you pay an un-
controllable price in the end, that you really
create two societies.
RAR: How long will it take before the
insufficiency of this approach is going to be
proven to the voters in Jamaica?
MM: There are two choices. One is within
three-and-a-half years. The other is eight-
and-a-half. Eight-and-a-half is inevitable. I
don't think there will be any question that we
will get back in power in the ten-year sweep.
Whether we can be the first to break that,
and get back in before, remains to be seen.


Nobody has ever done that before. Jamai-
cans are rather locked in this ten-year thing.
RAR: Do you see much hope for much
real improvement in the lives of the average
Jamaicans by the year 2000?
MM: There will be real improvement.
There has been real improvement. No
question about that. With all that goes on,
things tend to move gradually upward.
Look where we've gone in the last 40 years.
There's been improvement, gradual
improvement.
JJ: Are you optimistic?
MM: Incurably.


SoA


CO.O"l
PUS-1


CAl?BBEAN PEVI9W/29











Interviewing



Eden Pastora


"Comandante Cero


By Beatriz Parga de Bay6n


I t was a cruel introduction to the
harshness of politics for Eden Pastora.
At the tender age of seven he learned
that his father had been assassinated by a
member of Anastasio Somoza's National
Guard. Ten years later, after watching four
classmates die at the hands of Somoza's
soldiers, Pastora joined a guerrilla move-
ment fighting against the Nicaraguan
leader's family despotism. At the age of 40
Eden Pastora was the leading figure in the
takeover of the National Palace in Man-
agua and the subsequent downfall of
Somoza. He made headlines around the
world not as Eden Pastora, son of Panfilo
Pastora, but as "Comandante Cero."
No other guerrilla in Latin America is
more controversial, more admired or more
feared than "Comandante Cero."It is said
that this hardened leader-merciless to his
enemies-wept tears ofjoy as the people of
Nicaragua cheered him on the day the
National Directorate gained power Al-
though Pastora was not one of the nine
members of the Directorate, he was widely
considered the leader of the revolution.
In April 1981, two years after the take-
over Pastora surprised the world by re-
signing his position as Nicaragua's Vice-
Minister of the Interior He gave up his six-
room home, sent his family out of the
country and then also left Nicaragua. In
his own words, he had to "chase the smell
of gun powder" A true revolutionary, Pas-
tora could not accept the "bureaucratic
and luxurious lifestyle"of those he sought
so long to depose. He wandered from
Costa Rica to El Salvador, to Panama to
Cuba, disappeared for months, then resur-
faced to announce that he would return to
Nicaragua to "rehabilitate" the revolution.
He warned: "Stay out W&shington, stay
out Cuba, stay out Moscow! This is Nic-
aragua's business, to be handled by Nic-
araguans." This interview by Beatriz Parga
de Baydn, took place in Costa Rica in May
shortly before Pastora was expelled from
that country where he had taken refuge
Beatriz Parga is a Colombian journalist
presently working in the United States.
She recently was awarded the Givre Foun-
dationjournalism award, presented to her
in Argentina by German Arciniegas. The


0<
N
I-

interview was translated from the Spanish
by Jayne Pennington, Manfred Rosesnow
and Frank Van Reigersberg.
Beatriz Parga: How long have you been
fighting?
Eden Pastora: Twenty-three years. I
started in 1957 by organizing the Nic-
araguan Revolutionary Committee at the
University of Guadalajara, Mexico, while I
was studying medicine. Later, toward the
end of 1959, 1 went to Honduras with five
Nicaraguan buddies. We slipped across the
Nicaraguan border and joined a guerrilla
movement, later to be identified as the
Frente Sandinista de Liberacidn Nacio-
nal. The FSLN was the first group to
choose the red and black colors of Sandino
as its fighting flag and the sandinista ideol-
ogy as its political orientation. In late 19591
had my first armed encounter in Las Trojes,
when we attacked the barracks of the Na-


tional Guard. We were only 35 men fighting
a whole garrison of 250 to 300. It seems
unreal, but in guerrilla war it is possible.
Later, I climbed all over the hills of Nic-
aragua, from east to west, and from north to
south. The only hills I did not climb were the
ones around Managua: that residential
neighborhood where the sandinista com-
manders now live.
BP: How do you feel when you have de-
voted all your life to fighting dictatorships,
to revolution, and to reform and now realize
that you have not succeeded?
EP: The fight was not totally unsuccess-
ful. We knocked out the dictatorship, the
cruel tyranny, the dreadful somocismo.
The sad thing is that once in power, the nine
leaders of the revolution became traitors of
sandinismo. In a few short years they shed
the mask of "pure" revolutionaries, imple-
mented a Marxist-Leninist takeover Stalin-
style, creating a totally repressive police
state. They have confused the people by
making them believe that they are par-
ticipating in national decisions. No way! To
go to a public square to yell slogans is not to
share in the making of national decisions. It
is necessary to establish party structures
that will allow the people to participate. At
this stage, the National Directorate has not
developed a political structure where the
people can play a meaningful role. You
asked me how I feel. I feel the same way as
all the people of Nicaragua. I feel what all the
people of the world feel when they realize
that they have been deceived. I feel sadness,
anguish, frustration, anger, hatred and
resentment.
BP: Do you think that what happened in
Nicaragua was the replacement of one dic-
tatorship by another?
EP: Definitely! It went from a dictatorship
of the right to a dictatorship of the left. It
went from totalitarianism of the right to to-
talitarianism of the left. We, the sand-
inistas, do not favor extremes, but a policy
of the middle, a national policy that will al-
low our people to freely elect their leaders,
to have freedom of expression for ideologi-
cal pluralism, and to have a mixed econ-
omy. In addition to a lack of freedom,
Nicaragua is now bankrupt There is no for-
eign investment, no foreign capital, no do-


30/ CAPBBEAN IFEIEW

























mestic capital. We are broke.
BP: How does a "broke" country
recover?
EP: Simply by working. I tell my fellow
politicians that we should stop playing poli-
tics and go to work, that everybody should
become productive. A revolution is not pos-
sible without an economy. You do not shoe
the people's feet with speeches. You do not
feed the people with slogans. You do not
provide health, education, and housing with
political demonstrations. To make a true
revolution people must work, they must
produce. The responsibility of the nine
commanders of the revolution is to initiate
these efforts. Unfortunately for Nicaragua
they do not realize this, they are playing
political games.
BP: Had you been appointed the tenth
commander of the National Directorate,
what would have happened?
EP: I think the same thing would have
happened. They would not have listened to
me. They have always accused me of hav-
ing a low ideological level, of immaturity, of
not having class consciousness. I would
have had to leave eventually, to fight against
what I believe is a mistake.
BP: When did you realize that Daniel Or-
tega [Coordinator of the nine-man Directo-
rate and member of the Junta] was going
to adopt Soviet patterns?
EP: Soon afterthe victory. Priortothat we
worked very closely, talking to each other
informally. Later, our relationship changed.
Ortega, dressed in the uniform of a com-
mander of the revolution, spoke in a formal
and impersonal manner. He changed his
position of non-alignment at the summit of
non-aligned countries in Havana. He let
himself be led astray by Soviet tendencies. I
began to realize that Nicaragua was in grave
danger of treason, that Moscow was begin-
ning to play a crucial role in our revolution.
Now, our politics are run by the Soviet
Union, our economy by Bulgaria, and our
defense, by Cuba. When I started to fight, to
explain how 1 saw things, they began to
abandon me. It was then that I decided to
leave. I sought other international move-
ments looking for the same freedoms we
had fought for in Nicaragua.
BP: Could you tell me about your con-


nections with Qaddafi?
EP: I went to him simply as one more
revolutionary to ask for a logistical aid plan
for my Guatemalan brothers, and he agreed
to give me $5 million. The Nicaraguan Di-
rectorate, thinking that victory for me in
Guatemala could result in a triumphant re-
turn to Nicaragua, prejudiced the
Guatemala liberation leaders against me.
They told them that the money would give
me more economic, political and military
power that they had, that my popularity
would overshadow the Guatemalan lead-
ers. Because of that the Guatemalans re-
fused the $5 million.
BP: When Qaddafi offered you the
money, were there any strings attached?
EP: He offered it to me without
conditions.
BP: If you are against the intervention of
one country in another, why were you think-


ing about joining the guerrilla army in
Guatemala?
EP: Ahhhh! Because 1 am not a country, I
am not a government. As a private indi-
vidual I can do whatever I want One person
does not represent the intervention of one
country in another.
BP: Following that idea, the Cubans and
the Soviets could say: Our intervention in
your country is by "private" individuals.
EP: Well, in my case it was my own initia-
tive and nobody could interfere with that. I
wanted tojoin another freedom movement.
There was no political intervention by any
government.
BP: About your trips to Cuba. What hap-
pened the last time you were there?
EP: The last time, I was there for four
months. I wanted to work in Guatemala. I
wanted to offer the Guatemalans my efforts,
my experience, my life if necessary! The
National Directorate did not like this and
started to pull strings. Finally I was able to
speak with the Guatemalans and got along
with the members of the Revolutionary Or-
ganization of the Armed People (ORPA).
Their leaders were mature, well balanced,
pragmatic and extremely aware of the real
problems of the people of Central America.
I had just begun to work with ORPA when I
was invited to visit Cuba. I later discovered
that this invitation was the result of a direct
suggestion from the National Directorate.
During those four months I went to beaches
and night clubs. I had good meals, good
wine, and a Mercedes Benz. They treated
me with protocol, I lived in a grand resi-
dence, but I was "politely" discouraged
from leaving the country. Comments were
being made abroad that I was a prisoner in
Cuba, that I had become a political liability
to the revolutionary government. To dispell
the rumors that Panamanian military men
had delivered me to Castro, the government
of Panama sent the son of General Omar
Torrijos, Martin Torrijos, to go to Cuba
and get me.
BP: What was Castro's attitude?
EP: I have a good opinion of Fidel. Fidel
has leased many things from his experi-
ences. For example, he was not in favor of
Nicaragua accepting the T-55 tanks offered
by Russia. Fidel was not in favor of impos-


CAIBBEAN eVIEW/31









ing rationing in Nicaragua. He said: "Do not
make the same mistakes that we made. It is
better even if a few thousand die of hunger."
Stupidly, the leaders of the National Directo-
rate, on the insistence of Minister of Do-
mestic Commerce Nicho Marenco, im-
posed rationing. And now sugar, oil, even
toothpaste are rationed. Fidel advised:
"Don't accept those tanks, they have a polit-
ical price." In spite of this warning, the Na-



ANNALES
DES PAYS
D'AMERQUE

CENTRAL ET DES

CARAIBES


PUBLICATION BILINGUE
(FRANCAIS-ESPAGNOL)
CENTRE DE RECHERCHES
ET D'ETUDES SUR
EAMERIQUE CENTRAL ET
LES CARAIBES
DE EINSTITUT D'ETUDES
POLITIQUES
D'AIX-EN-PROVENCE



BULLETIN DE COMMAND
SERVICE DE PUBLICATIONS
UNIVERSITY
D'AIX-MARSEILLE III
3, AVENUE ROBERT SCHUMAN
13628 AIX-EN-PROVENCE
FRANCE




PRIX 45,00F-FRAIS DE PORT
ISBN 2-7314-0004-8


tional Directorate accepted them. When the
tanks did not arrive on time, Humberto Or-
tega suspected Castro of stopping the ship-
ment. He went to Havana to complain. 1
imagine that Fidel must have said, "Go to
hell; take those tanks and you will know the
price you are going to pay..."
BP: How do you view the current rela-
tions with Fidel? Closer to the Directorate
or to you?
EP: The rope will break where it is the
weakest. Generally, everyone who has to
choose between relations with a state or
relations with an individual, will go with the
state. History is going to tell the tale. I am not
aware of Fidel's position with the National
Directorate. Fidel knows that I speak the
truth, that I am right. He knows that the
problems of Nicaragua have to be solved by
the sandinistas. Fidel knows that the best
thing is no foreign intervention; not
Moscow, not Washington, not Cubal This is
our fight, a Nicaraguan struggle, and the
time will come when I will publicly request
that Fidel pull the Cuban military advisers
out of my country. When I have to fight, I do
not want to fight against Cubans in
Nicaragua.
BP: And for that fight, do you have aid?
EP: I will get aid from honest people,
revolutionary people, who understand the
problems of Nicaragua. For the time being,
I only have the backing of my own people. In
1959, when we started fighting Somoza, we
did not have a penny.
BP: Would you accept aid from Cuba, the
Soviet Union, the United States or Qaddafi?
EP: From anywhere! As long as there are
no conditions, as long as our right to inde-
pendence is respected. I would hope that
the primary motivation for giving aid would
be to assist in the fight for the right of all
men to be free.
BP: Do you need it?
EP: I need it...My people need it! A revolu-
tion needs money to fight back, to succeed.
The purpose ofthesandinista revolution is



Competition, Cooperation,
Efficiency and
Social Organization

Introduction to a Political
Economy
by Antonio Jorge


$9.50
ISNB 0-8386-2026-4


L.C. 76-20272


FAIRLEIGH DICKINSON UNIVERSITY PRESS
P.O. Box 421, Cranbury, New Jersey 08512


to save the Nicaraguans from oppression,
starvation and slavery. My noble and long-
suffering people can only enjoy freedom
and prosperity under a democracy with the
government of the people, for the people
and by the people. Once we are free this will
serve as a catalist for the rest of Central
America. But Nicaragua must be first.
BP: The National Directorate is accusing
you of being linked to somocismo and
the CIA..
EP: They will tell any lie to stop me. For
23 years I have been fighting the
somocistas who assassinated my father. I
continue fighting for the same reasons. Me,
an agent of the CIA? Ridiculous! Somoza
called his enemies communist! The Na-
tional Directorate calls anyone who is
against them an agent of the CIA, of Ameri-
can imperialism. When we were fighting
Somoza, he accused us of being financed
by Moscow...
BP: If you return to Nicaragua, what will
happen to the National Directorate?
EP: It is their country too. They can stay
there, live in freedom, even work in politics.
They would have the same rights as the
other parties. In a democracy, if the people
choose the members of the National Direc-
torate, the people have spoken! Fifty thou-
sand Nicaraguans have died for the right to
choose!
BP: How long will it take you to return to
Nicaragua?
EP: That depends on developments in
the political scene, what changes may oc-
cur. Today I might say one year, and in three
months I might say tomorrow.
BP: Do you ever tire of the fight?
EP: Our war cry is "A free fatherland or
death." We, the revolutionary sandinistas,
carry that cry deeply in our souls. Sandino's
legacy will lead us to victory. No one tires of
wanting to be free. And people who want to
be free will fight, they will fight until they
obtain their freedom. Or they will die stand-
ing on their feet, like trees, with dignity...


Professor Jorge's innovative study advo-
cates a new and different perspective on the
joined disciplines of history, economic
theory, and the social sciences, and calls for a
wider scope and a more flexible, if initially
more complex, approach in the perception of
socioeconomic reality.
The book deals with competition and
cooperation as antithetical approaches to
human interaction in the social field. Com-
petition and cooperation mix in an infinite
variety of combinations, giving rise to a wide
spectrum of different types of organizations.
They also reflect, particularly in the long run,
the nature of the motivational composite
behind them.
The essence of Jorge's message is that
productivity and efficiency can be incorpo-
rated into a variety of social arrangements,
and that no particular model needs to be a
maximum maximorum.


32/CAIBBEAN PiE EW








BP: A very small country always needs
an ally. When someone offers to be an ally,
doesn't it mean in most cases that there are
ulterior motives?
EP: Not when our allies are our brothers,
like Costa Rica, Panama, Venezuela, Mexico,
and even Cuba, the members of the An-
dean Pact. Latins, like us, who feelthe same,
think the same, have no motives other than
to develop the Third World. Our allies must
be members of the Third World. Large seg-
ments of the European and Asiatic world
have these same goals. We all should have
the best relations with the United States and
the Soviet Union. These two great powers
seem to understand each other so well; they
divide the world among themselves, they
talk about their neutron bombs, their atom
bombs, and both have a bright red tele-
phone, a hot line at the headboard of the
bed, and they greet each other everyday:
"How are you today?" "How is your flu?"
"How is the weather?" and they tell each
other fashionable jokes. It would be sheer
stupidity to start fighting against one of
them since they get along so well and they
divide the world so fairly. It would be mad-
ness for a little country to choose between
two giants. They would step on me and
destroy me...and they would shake hands
afterwards.
BP: When you think about your life as a
guerrilla, what do you remember?
EP: It is very complex to think about my-
self as a guerrilla in combat. I think about
my buddies that are no longer with me, the
ones who died. I think about the physical
exhaustion, the hunger, and the deprivation,
sleeping on the floor when you get a chance
to sleep at all.
BP: Do you think that revolutionaries,
after a certain time, begin to need the en-
vironment of war?
EP: Maybe...lt is difficult to unite a man
with a rifle, but it is more difficult, once
united, to separate him. That is one of the
problems...
BP: Are you afraid of ending up like
Somoza? The National Directorate says,
"the revolution has long arms against its
enemies."
EP: It would be a mistake for the National
Directorate to kill me. It would create world-
wide commotion and open confrontation
with counterrevolutionary forces. They gain
nothing if they kill me.
BP: You spent your life fighting against a
dictatorship, don't you think that dictator-
ships such as Somoza's, Duvalier's or
Batista's, are fertile ground for Marxism?
EP: Definitely. They are the best protago-
nists of Marxism-Leninism. They oppress
and exploit and sentence the people to a life
of poverty. I am not afraid of Marxism-Leni-
nism. What frightens me is totalitarianism.
When Marxism is applied Soviet-style, ac-
cording to the social, political and eco-
nomic laws of the Soviet Union, you


transpolarize solutions, philosophy, and
doctrine.
BP: Do you think hunger of the people is
stronger than weapons?
EP: Definitely. Look at Nicaragua with
Somoza, Cuba with Batista. Latin America
is a volcano. If Duvalier was not sealed
within an island, like a rooster ruling a
chicken coop, there would be another cock
crowing in the henhouse.
BP: Nicaragua has always fought under
one flag, what would have been the pos-
sibilities had there been several flags?
EP: We tend to identify a flag with an


ideal. When we talk about the red and black
flag we talk about Sandino and his ideas.
His philosophy defends the sovereignty of
our people, with beautiful phrases like: "The
sovereignty of a people is not up for discus-
sion. It is defended with weapons in hand."
Sandino was a man who taught us to love
Nicaragua, who gave us guidelines for
peace, brotherly love, national dignity.
When we fight, we have that flag in our
minds, in our hearts. That is the sandin-
ismo we now have to rescue; True san-
dinismo. Not the Soviet version, the san-
dinismo of Monimb6, not of Moscow. i


The prestigious scholarly journal of the
INSTITUTE OF CARIBBEAN STUDIES / UNIVERSITY OF PUERTO RICO
ISSN 0008-6533
Caribbean Studies is entering its third decade of uninterrupted publication. It is
written and edited by and for Caribbeanists and other persons keenly interested
in keeping up with the best in Caribbean scholarly research and writing from a
multidisciplinary, multicultural perspective. Here is a sample of articles, essays
and research reports scheduled for publication in Volume 20 (1980).
Equality and Justice: Foundations of Nationalism in the
Caribbean / Wendell Bell
Esclavitud y Diplomacia: Los Limites de un Paradigma
Histbrico / Francisco Scarano
The Trajectory of Canadian-Panamanian Relations / Graeme S. Mount
Piri Thomas: Author and Persona / Eugene V. Mohr
Exploration and Exploitation of Manganese Nodules in the
Caribbean / Edmund Dale
Bibliography of Theses and Dissertations on Venezuelan
Topics / William Sullivan
Trends in Caribbean English Fiction / Maria Teresa Babin
Malaise Social et Criminalit6 aux Antilles Franqaises / Auguste Armet
PLUS: Book Reviews Current Bibliography Documents
To keep abreast of significant developments in Caribbean studies in the 1980s,
subscribe now. Just fill out, clip and mail the attached subscription form.
-----------------------------------------
TO: Institute of Caribbean Studies, University of Puerto Rico
P.O. Box BM, University Station, Rio Piedras, P.R. 00931
Please enter my subscription to Caribbean Studies as indicated below. Enclosed is my check
(or money order) for US$ in payment of this subscription.
Volume 19 (1979) US$ 20 instit. US$ 15 indiv. E
20 (1980) $20 instit. $15 indiv. E
21 (1981) $25 instit. $ 16 indiv. E
SPECIAL OFFER (new subscribers only). Subscribe to all three volumes (19, 20 & 21)
and pay only: $40 individuals (save $6); $60 institutions (save $5).
NAME INSTITUTION
ADDRESS


CAI?BBEAN FEVIEW/33


I :ea n'

ties


rcaribbean
Studh;e AJ0 C


6Lh h chz, I t IU





















































ses Hassan, and prominent










a'X From top: Sandinista leaders Daniel Or- '-.
tega, Miguel D'Escoto, Sergio Ramirez and '
somocista lawyer Rafael C6rdova Rivas. .w
Illustration of Somoza from the dust jacket.


34/CA1?BBEAN EVIEW












The Legacy of



Dictatorship: Nicaragua

The Fall of Somoza
Reviewed by Carlos M. Vilas
Translated by James F Droste


Somoza and the Legacy of US
Involvement in Central America,
Bernard Diederich. E.P Dutton,
New York, 1981. $19.75
The triumph of the sandinista revolu-
tion has generated many books on
the subject: interpretive essays, analy-
ses of Nicaraguan society, testimonials of
the war etc. This rush to publish has tried to
satisfy the interest, or the curiosity, of an
audience far beyond academic circles. The
predominant note in these works has been
one of interpretation. They have attempted
to offer points of view and hypotheses
about a process whose outcome is well-
known, but whose history is all but
unknown.
The Diederich book helps meet this de-
mand; richly informative, well written, and
factual, it elaborates on the important as-
pects of the Somoza dynasty, the US in-
volvement in its creation, the development
and eventual overthrow of the dictatorship,
and some of the aspects of the revolution
which overthrew Somoza. As foreign
correspondent for Time magazine, the au-
thor had direct access to the events nar-
rated and the majority of the personalities
involved.
As in his previous works (on Trujillo and
Papa Doc) Diederich's style is to let the facts
speak for themselves. In this sense the pre-
cise and meticulous-at times too meticu-
lous-chronical makes this book, which is
not as such a political scientific or a so-
ciological study, into an informative input
for the specialist or the investigator. Unen-
cumbered by bias or slant which might
have slipped in, a considerable risk in this
type of work, Diederich offers valuable data
for analyses of various dimensions and as-
pects of the revolutionary road which led to
the Frente Sandinista de Liberacidn Na-
cional (FSLN) capturing undisputed
power.
In particular, Diederich presents a de-
tailed account of three questions which,

Argentine Political Scientist Carlos M. Vilas
today works in Nicaragua. Translator James F.
Droste is on the staff of CR.


from this author's viewpoint, are of special
importance. A first question concerns the
involvement of the US throughout the
whole of the Somoza dictatorship, the
methods and means used by the US in
various phases of the dictatorship, and the
intentions of the Carter administration
when revolutionary triumph became only a
matter of time. Carter tried to disassociate
himself from Somoza and generate a non-
revolutionary (that is to say, a non-san-
dinista) alternative by removing the
Somozas while preserving their power ap-
aratus; what the FSLN has called
"Somocismo sin Somoza." The failure of
the mediation attempts of first the US,
Guatemala, and the Dominican Republic
collectively, the OAS later, and finally the
Bowdler mission underline the diplomatic
defeats suffered by Washington as it at-
tempted to detach itself from an ally whose
fall threatened to go far beyond a simple
change of personnel in the halls of power.
Diederich suggests that the Washington
initiative arrived too late, and in any case
was wrapped up in the court of the Somoza
dynasty. Possibly. His narrative, however,
implies other hypotheses. It can be held, for
example, that the Washington delay was
simply a lack of any policy. The mediation
strategy was elaborated and its implemen-
tation was attempted much more as a re-
sponse to the revolutionary anti-dictatorial
struggle than as a product of a foreign pol-
icy supporting non-dictatorial forms of po-
litical power. This, perhaps, was not the
exclusive fault of the Carter administration,
but rather a constant in US-Nicaraguan re-
lations over the last 50 years. The comfort
with which the US developed its relations
with Somoza made it impossible for the
State Department to even formulate an hy-
pothesis that the Somoza family might not
be eternal. One can hardly escape the im-
pression that it was only when the san-
dinista struggle was at the brink of success
that the US comprehended that such a the-
oretical possibility was already a structured
reality.
The political and military struggle against
Somoza and somocismo had been the ex-
clusive property of theFSLN for some time.
It is therefore difficult to conceive of a suc-


cessful diplomatic initiative to remove
Somoza without significant changes in
somocista power structures, especially the
National Guard, which needed for its own
success the approval of Somoza himself!
Therefore it could be suggested that the
disqualifying factors of the non-revolution-
ary alternative designed by the Carter ad-
ministration were not so much the intrigues
and delays of Somoza, who delayed his
flight until the very last possible moment,
but rather the US involvement, from the
beginning, in an adventure into personal
power, dictatorial dominion, exploitation
and massacre.
A second point, closely tied to the first,
revealed by Diederich's data concerns the
relationship forged at the last minute be-
tween the anti-Somoza (or at least the not
pro-Somoza) bourgeoisie and the US De-
partment of State. This strategy was based
on the growing opposition to Somoza in the
middle class, particularly afterthe murder of
anti-Somoza newspaperman Pedro Joa-
quin Chamorro Cardenal. After that event
the bourgeoisie began open, collective ac-
tion against the dictatorship, seeking a non-
revolutionary way to be rid of Somoza.
From the beginning the strategy of the anti-
Somoza bourgeoisie was to obtain the sup-
port of the US embassy. Diederich illus-
trates how the anti-Somoza bourgeoisie
and the State Department established their
close relationship, especially after the ap-
pointment of Ambassador Lawrence
Pezzulo. As a class, the anti-Somoza bour-
geoisie participated in the social and eco-
nomic benefits of the system of power. The
"cost" they had been paying for those bene-
fits was political banishment. If Somoza De-
bayle remained in power despite the
opposition of the reform-minded bour-
geoisie, it was largely due to the US decid-
ing not to dump him, or not knowing how.
The Diederich book thus reveals a com-
petition between Somoza and his bour-
geois opponents to obtain US support, a
competition fueled by mistrust of the
changes proposed by the FSLN. Somoza
again tried to claim the role of champion
anti-communist, denouncing bourgeoisie
complicity with the FSLN. This argument,
Continued on page 52


CAPBBEAN "vIE6/35












Haitian Neo-Slavery in



Santo Domingo

Bitter Sugar

Reviewed by Paul R. Latortue


Sucre Amer. Esclaves Aujourd'hui
dans les Caraibes, Maurice
Lemoine. 292 pp. Nouvelle Socitek
des Editions Encre, Paris, 1981.

his book examines the Haitian mi-

gration to the Dominican Republic.
The details of the migration reveal a
tragic picture of severe hardship for mi-
grants and benefits for plantation owners
(such as the Consejo Estatal de Azicar,
Gulf and Western, the Vicini family and the
various land owners in the Dominican mil-
itary). Besides the plantation owners, vari-
ous segments of the ruling elite in both Haiti
and Santo Domingo directly benefit from
the neo-slavery of the Haitian cutters, as
does the Dominican population via large
indirect benefits.
Haitian migration to Santo Domingo
dates as far back as 1915 when US invest-
ment in sugar plantations increased sub-
stantially in Santo Domingo and the
Spanish-speaking Caribbean islands. This
increased the demand for labor related to
land clearing, planting, harvesting and re-
fining of sugar cane. Of all these activities,
the cutting of sugar cane is the most back-
breaking. Few people are willing to under-
take this task, unless forced to by serious
hardship.
Today, Haitian migration often takes
place under the auspices of both the Haitian
and Dominican governments. Since 1967,
a contract has been signed every year be-
tween the Duvalier government and the
Dominican government to send 15,000
temporary Haitian migrant workers to cut
cane planted on the land belonging to the
Consejo Estatal de Azdcar. Attracted by
the illusion of higher wages, and supposed
government protection of workers in the
Dominican Republic, Haitians have fought
to enlist.
Once in the Dominican Republic it be-
comes quickly evident that expectations are


Paul R. Latortue directs the Center for Busi-
ness Research at the University of Puerto
Rico, Rio Piedras.


largely unfounded. Contrasting with the
promise of $15 for a day of work, sugar
cane workers hardly make a gross pay of
$2.50 a day. They are paid by the weight of
cane cut. But, unless the cane is quickly
transported to the mill, it loses weight, dry-
ing in the sun. The mill owners' transporta-
tion policies are so arranged as to minimize
labor costs. Another usual arrangement is
the trick scale. Were it not for these unfair
practices, the weight of the cane cut in a.
day's work would double. All in all, the aver-
age worker today makes about $20
biweekly. Years ago, even with a lower price
per ton of sugar cane cut, it was possible to
make from $30 to $40 biweekly. This dete-
riorating income comes despite inflation
and increases in taxes to finance social
security and other benefits (running 20% of
wages). Yet no services can be expected in
return. A substantial amount of the taxes
collected are sent to Duvalier's personal
coffers.
At work, the relation of the Haitian sugar
cane worker to the Dominican crew leader
is one of severe subordination. The crew
leader is trained to force the cane cutters to
reach higher productivity levels. He knows
that it is hunger and the fear of starvation
that make it possible to recruit Haitian cane
cutters. "One could regret it, but the whole
system, the entire economy, all the wealth of
our country is based on it." When Haitians
are found planting food crops on unused
plantation land, crew leaders uproot these
crops. The crew leaders know that if Haitian
migrants eat better, they won't cut the sugar
cane. French colonization of Haiti never
dared to enforce such measures during
slavery
Housing for the cane cutters is provided
in enclaves called "bateys," located not far
from the plantation. Though both Haitians
and poor Dominicans live in the bateys,
there is segregation: Dominicans live in
front, Haitians in back. Latrine facilities are
segregated, one latrine per 200 persons. A
Dominican prostitute will not go to bed with
a Haitian cane worker, even when he is able
to pay the going rate.
Though most Haitian migrants to the
Dominican Republic are males, some
females have also arrived. Children born of


Haitian couples in the Dominican Republic
do not receive birth certificates. They are
not allowed to become Dominican citizens
out of fear of "darkening" the Dominican
population. There thus exists a large com-
munity without legal existence, giving way
to all kinds of abuses and frauds, including
electoral fraud by political men in power.
Former President Joaquin Balaguer
[1966-1978] seems to have known and
profited from such practices.
Yet the old-time Haitian "residents" in the
Dominican Republic (the viejos) establish
a distance between themselves and the
newly arrived (the congos). When, how-
ever, rapport is obtained, the viejos be-
come for the congos an important source
of advice. That rapport does not come
about automatically. The congos feel that
the viqjos often want to pass for Domini-
cans (since they speak the language) in a
vain attempt to escape the stigma attached
to being Haitian. The viejos feel that the
constant arrival of congos depress wages
and create unemployment. All this pro-
duces an environment where everyone is
for himself, just for himself, for survival's
sake, which, in the final analysis, worsens
everyone's lot.
The general Dominican community, rich
and poor, looks down on the Haitians. Pre-
conceived ideas about Haitians include
prejudices such as: Haitians live like wild
tribes in their communities and they bring
sickness with them. Haitians are black;
Dominicans even when they are black,
often do not conceive of themselves as
black. Dominicans of mixed blood prefer to
say they are of Indian descent rather than
admit the presence of negro blood. For the
oligarchy, blacks are to be confined to the
lower occupational groups. Note the circu-
lar reasoning: The Haitians live in these
conditions because they are negroes. They
are negroes because they live in these con-
ditions. Middle-class Dominicans often say
they have never seen a well-dressed Haitian.
When children do not behave well, they are
told that Haitians boogeymenn) will take
them away. Dominicans have never for-
gotten that they were occupied militarily by
the Haitians in the first part of the 19th cen-
tury. The Dominican press still reminds its


36/CAIBBEAN revIew





































readers that Dominican independence was
obtained from Haiti, not from Spain. The
anti-Haitian feelings indeed have deep and
complex roots.

The Massacre
Lemoine tells of the tragic massacre of
Haitians by Trujillo in the 1930s. Up to
30,000 Haitians died in what is known as
the "perejil" operation. Creole-speaking
Haitians, even fluent in Spanish, seem to
have difficulty in pronouncing correctly the
word "perejil." Using this fact as a criterion
for identifying Haitians, a general massacre
was conducted by the Trujillo police. The
Haitian government passively accepted a
few thousand dollars for the damage
inflicted.
Today the police and the military are very
much involved in the subjugation of the
Haitian migrants to the Dominican Repub-
lic. They play an important role not only in
spying within the bateys, but also in pre-
venting Haitians from leaving them. Hai-
tians outside the bateys need to show their
"cedula" (identity card) on demand to the
police and justify their presence outside the
batey. If not satisfied, the police take them
back to a batey, anybatey, and back to the
cutting of sugar cane. The police receive
from landowners $200 for every detained
Haitian whose physical strength promises
hard work capabilities on labor-short plan-
tations. Indeed, this practice is similar to
that of a slave market, with the marketing
often taking place within the prison walls
and the transporting made on' military
trucks. A so-called "incentive system" fixes
a $0.50 additional reward per metric ton of
cane cut, to be collected at departure time
at the end of the harvest. This measure


looks to ensure the migrants' return to Haiti.
The "incentive system" is widely violated. I
have seen workers with piles of coupons
with no hope of collection.
One wonders what kind of protection
Haitian migrant workers receive from the
Haitian embassy and its staff of 90 Haitian
inspectors and supervisors who have been
hired to oversee the fulfillment of the
clauses of the Haitian government contract
with the Consejo Estatal de Azucar. The
answer is simple: they do not care. Em-
bassy inspectors visit the bateys only once
in a long while. Their role consists largely in
convincing the workers that conditions are
not so bad after all. They consider workers'
complaints as fictions. The inspectors' sal-
ary is paid by the Dominican government
and they work in the interest of those who
pay them. The Ambassador never visits the
batey. His agents, however, are present to
spy and report on unusual activities. Indeed,
the presence of the Tonton Macoutes in
the bateys of Santo Domingo is a certainty.
Lemoine even cites the names of Tonton
Macoutes, "tristemente celebres" in
Port-au-Prince, stationed in Santo
Domingo for the political control of Haitian
migrants. Tonton Macoutes are welcome
in the bateys to help control potential politi-
cal rebellion. Duvalier wants no trouble with
the Dominican Republic. Besides, he wants
in his coffers the bribes offered to make the
migration possible. Finally, he greatly needs
the foreign exchange brought by the re-
turning migrants. Reports out of Port-au-
Prince claim that the 1981 summer oil bill
could not have been paid without the
foreign exchange brought by the cane
cutters.
Haitian cane cutters feel worse off, psy-


chologically and humanly speaking, in the
Dominican Republic than in Haiti. However,
though not eating well, their diet in Santo
Domingo has improved when compared to
the one at home. Indeed for a daily meal of
rice, beans and sardines (and chicken on
Sundays, the Haitian migrants sustain the
sugar cane production apparatus. Sugar
and its by-products gave the Dominican
Republic, in 1975,25% of its GNP 65% of its
exports, and 40% of government revenues.
It is in this sense that the entire Dominican
population benefits from the Haitian mi-
grant labor. Many Dominicans, though
sympathetic to the Haitian cause, do not
always see this. Without the foreign ex-
change earned by sugar export today, con-
sumption levels in the Dominican popula-
tion at large would diminish in the absence
of a better base for economic development
The Dominican government knows this.
This awareness brings two practical conse-
quences: suspicion and persecution of Hai-
tian exiles who approach the migrants, and
an understanding with the Duvalier regime
to supply the needed workers every year. In
a nutshell, this means tacit support for
Duvalier. In this sense, a more progressive
government in Haiti would carry the need
for a more progressive government in
Santo Domingo also. Yet in the long run,
this is an unstable situation. Many Haitians
do not return home, creating what Balaguer
labeled "la invasion pacifica" and the fear
that Haitianization of the Dominican Re-
public may take place over time. Jose
Francisco Pefia G6mez, the most popular
national leader in Santo Domingo today, is
widely believed to be of Haitian descent.
Perhaps this neo-slavery of sugar can be
stopped sometime soon and a better base
for economic and social development
could be created on both sides of the bor-
der. But this won't happen unless Haiti
changes and/or political and economic
awareness grows among the migrants.
Signs of such an awakening exist. Con-
sequently, former Dominican President An-
tonio Guzmfn weighed the possibility of
greater mechanization of thezafra and pro-
gressive nationalization of the work force.
The results, however, are not due any time
soon. A


CAIBBEAN PFVIEW/37












In Light's Dominion

The Art of Rafael Soriano





By Ricardo Pau-Llosa


Since Turner, a number of artists have
addressed themselves to the phe-
nomenon of light as a discreet and
essential visual structure. They have pon-
dered the ways of making light as autono-
mous and spatial as the masters of the
chiaroscuro (Rembrandt, Leonardo, Car-
avaggio) made shadow a distinct volume
with its own rules, order, and character.
Leonardo proclaimed that it was in shadow
that bodies reveal their form. For painters
like Cuban-born Rafael Soriano, and others
who belong to what can be called oneiric
luminism, it is through shadow that light
reveals its form. The pioneer in this century
of oneiric luminism is the great Chilean
painter, Robert Matta. Within an ambiguous
surrealist framework, Matta explored the ex-
plosiveness, the life-like capriciousness of
luminosity. Frequently in his work a me-
chanical, humanoid figure emerges to sub-
due or unleash the forces of energy that
surround him. This figure can be seen as
the symbolic presence of the artist wielding
the full range of his rational and irrational
powers to orchestrate the forces of life into
the images of art. But Matta's intensity often
falls into superficiality and repetition. His
work is, at its best, highly dramatic. In con-

Ricardo Pau-Uosa teaches Latin American Art
at Florida International University.


trast, Soriano penetrates and preserves the
full range of mysteries implicit in the essen-
tial structure of light. Soriano is a con-
templative painter, a thinker in pure light
and shadow.
What Matta narrates (the forces of light
being turned into the order of art), Soriano
reveals and achieves, and does so with total
legitimacy: there is not a single resolution of
space, a single form or texture which is
repeated. Each painting is the result of what
Soriano calls a "dialogue" between the ma-
terial at hand and himself. It is a slow, ar-
duous process, but the dialogue is
achieved, recovered after each layer of oil
dries on the canvas, and re-initiated. What
structures bind his work, what patterns in
his paintings emerge to define some sense
of a style, are ignored by the artist who in-
sists that each painting is a spontaneous
offspring of his soul. Soriano, who for years
(in Cuba and up to the late 60s in the US)
painted hard-edged, geometrical abstrac-
tions, says that he no longer premeditatess"
his paintings as he did in his previous, ana-
lytical work. There is never a drawing or a
study of a painting realized in premonition
of the work.
As the now principal figure in Latin Amer-
ican oneiric luminism, Soriano is inter-
ested, primarily, in allowing the forms of
light "to come," to enter the realm of con-


scious being. Light in his work achieves a
spatiality, a will, and a dimension which art
usually bestows on objects or on the ex-
pressive signatures and textures of pure ab-
straction. Soriano's art rests between two
poles, the world of referentiality in which art
points to and is the icon of things in our
common reality, and the subjective world in
which the splatters and tears of color some-
how speak the undecipherable language of
the creator's soul. In Soriano, the world is
not iconically represented, neither is it ban-
ished by the artist's self breaking out into
expression. His work is the fulcrum between
inner and outer realms, the balancing point
of the contemplative dream. In his particu-
lar vision of the oneiric, it is light as autono-
mous entity that dreams, sheds, forges the
boundaries between the luminous and the
obscure. Light dreams the world of forms in
the same way that, in the natural world, it
brings to us colors and distances. The im-
pressionists' attention to light's power to
fuse particulars into chromatic wholes, the
principal vehicle of which is the distance
between subject and object (between
viewer and painted texture), is here inverted.
The fusion is given; intimacy and not dis-
tance is the aim. Soriano achieves a precise
inversion of impressionist distance: his
paintings absorb us, and are explicitly about
the fusions and subtleties of a visual life in a


"Luci6rnaga en la Noche" (Firefly in the Night), 50" x 60", oil/canvas. "Paisaje Errante" (Errant Landscape), oil/canvas, 33" x 47".

38/CAIBBEAN PIF~W

























world whose only respite from relativity and
flux is the constancy of light's velocity and
nature.
The immediacy and spontaneity of
Soriano's work, and of the creative process
they involve, have made him unaware of
stylistic structures which are evident in his
paintings. One example is the predomi-
nance of horizontal forms in paintings
dominated by blue. These forms present
themselves in a more heightened sense of
flux than those in his earth-tone paintings.
The tension between luminous and opaque
spaces are also more intense in his blue
paintings. Earth tones predominate in
paintings where echoes of torsos emerge.
Biomorphic forms, frequently in vertical at-
titudes, come forth from the mineral fog of
a landscape made of radiant gas. They
dwell at the precise point of identity, at the
point in which they are human shapes but
are still one with the surrounding textures
and shades. These are paintings of stasis, of
timelessness. Cellular forms also emerge
as knots of volumes interlocking in an ecto-
plasmic embrace, and these mostly in his
blue paintings. Throughout his work, vol-
umes of light emerge independently of
the nebulous referents which inhabit the
canvases.
Luminosity in Soriano takes on its own
life, enters into and dissolves itself at will


own work the constructivist and kineticist
interest in light as absolute space or abso-
lute movement. Only in Soriano does light
dream the human dream. Only in Soriano is
light more a part of us because it reveals
itself as independent from us. As
thaumaturgist he has forged light's domin-
ion, and the mysteries of that realm are
ours. A


Artist Rafael Soriano.
through the spaces and contours of a barely
recognizable common reality. He has inher-
ited and greatly expanded the tradition of
luminism in Latin American art, a tradition
which emerges not only in Matta's surreal-
ism, but in the expressive, archetypal imag-
ery of the Argentine Victor Chab, in the
vibrant colors of the Brazilian Manabu
Mabe, in the transparencies of Carlos En-
riquez and the architectural purity of Emilio
Sanchez, both Cubans, in the organic vol-
umes of the Guatemalan Elmar Rojas and
the Chilean Mario Toral, and in the atem-
poral presence of the Mexican Rufino Tam-
ayo's imagery. He has transcended in his


"El Abanico" (The Fan), 50" x 60", oil/
canvas.


"Sombra del Aire" (Shadow of the Air), 30" x 40", oil/canvas.


"La Imagen del Suefo" (Image of the Dream), 30" x 50", oil/canvas.


CAr BBEAN EV1W/39










Elections...
Continued from page 7

the National Liberation Party (PLN) and the
Unity Party (PU). The PLN's Luis Alberto
Monge notched a broad victory over the PU
of former President Rodrigo Carazo and its
candidate, 32-year-old Rafael Angel Cal-
der6n de la Guardia, who is expected to
make another run on the presidency in
1986. Former conservative President Mario
Echandi and three other candidates, in-
cluding a communist, together eamed less
than 5% of the vote in Central America's
most stable democracy.
One of Monge's first acts in office was to
travel to Washington to appeal to the Rea-
gan administration for increased economic
aid to his nation, bankrupt after years of low
export prices and wild government spend-
ing on social programs that gave Costa Rica
the best educated, least poor and healthiest
rural population in the region. Reagan chat-
ted with Monge and quickly put him to work
on the US Congress, lobbying for passage
of the Caribbean Basin Initiative that could
send his country as much as $50 million.
Part of the US aid was expected to be for
public security programs, a proposal that
has drawn severe criticism in Costa Rica,
which disbanded its army in the 1940s. US
officials and some Costa Ricans have ar-
gued that the nation must have some sort of
military capabilities if it is to defend its trou-
bled northern border with leftist-ruled Nic-
aragua. Other local officials, however,
remember the total chaos wrought by the
collapse of the economy in the final year of
the Carazo administration, and wonder
whether, if Costa Rica had an army, the na-
tion might now find itself under a military
government.

The Netherlands Antilles
Perhaps the election most ignored of the
nine came June 25 in the Netherlands An-
tilles, the six-island Dutch colony in the Car-
ibbean. There former premier Don
Martina's party won six of 22 seats in the
Staten or parliament, enough to form an-
other shaky coalition government. Martina
had served as interim premier following the
collapse of his minority government in Jan-
uary. Second largest bloc of votes went to
an.Aruba separatist party headed by Betico
Croes which won five. Observers saw the
outcome as strengthening Aruba's case to
separate itself from the central government
in Curacao, either as a distinct colony or by
becoming independent.

Colombia
Belisario Betancur, 59, the perpetual under-
dog of Colombia's relatively weak Conser-
vative Party, is this country's next president.
He is the first conservative president to take
office independently in 30 years. Other con-


-7

A.-l
4Ww
---- ------ i T" I


Miguel de la Madrid, president-elect of Mexico; Jos6 Francisco Peria G6mez, newly-elected
mayor of Santo Domingo; Luis Alberto Monge, recently-elected president of Costa Rica.


servative presidents took office as a result of
a political agreement to alternate the presi-
dency between the Liberal and Conserva-
tive Parties. Betancur is not a typical
Colombian president. He makes no bones
about his humble childhood as one of 22
children, the first in his family to wear shoes.
He prides himself on being an intellectual,
and yet stresses his early education in a
one-room, one-teacher rural schoolhouse
in Amaga, Antioquia, a region noted for its
hard-workers and fertile families. Betancur
had already lost the presidency three times
to Liberal challengers when he decided to
take on former president Alfonso L6pez
Michelsen under the slogan, "Yes, we can."
Colombians-who poured out in record
numbers on Sunday, May 30th-voted for
change against a system on the verge of
ossification, a system which had almost
ceased to offer choices.
Perhaps they were encouraged by the
presence of a young Liberal dissident, Luis
Carlos Galan, who in an unprecedented
move decided to stick out his candidacy to
the end. Galan had frankly admitted that the
principle motive for his continued can-
dicacy on a New Liberalism ticket was his
desire to prevent the election of L6pez
Michelsen, whom he characterized as "one


of the worst" presidents to govern 20th cen-
tury Colombia. He succeeded; his 700,000
votes added to L6pez's 2,500,000 would
have meant an easy L6pez victory, and the
entrenchment of the Liberal Party in power.
The traditional Liberal Party here represents
the old oligarchy, financial interests, and to a
lesser extent, the blatantly new rich who
have made their fortunes from drugs and
other aspects of the underground econ-
omy. The Conservative Party-even in its
underdog role-represents somewhat the
same interests. But Betancur cultivated
carefully the image of a populist, grassroots,
national unity candidate.
He dedicated his victory speech to the
poor. "I address myself, above all, to the
poor people of this country," he said in his
low-key and conciliatory victory speech. "I
was once one of them, and 1 have not for-
gotten the lessons of that painful situation. I
will work tirelessly, night and day, to better
their fate."
Betancur's election Sunday showed that
the democratic system here, despite all its
flaws, can still work on the electoral level.
While L6pez's sophisticated political ma-
chinery often borders on corruption, Betan-
cur had the image of a clean candidate.
Colombians who like to bad-mouth their


40/CA,?BBcAN REVIEW














































Ex-presidents of the Dominican Republic Joaquin Balaguer and Juan Bosch and newly-elected


Dominican President Salvador Jorge Blanco.


system often repeated the following joke:
"People will vote for Molina [a leftist coali-
tion candidate] in their heads, for Galan in
their hearts, for Belisario [Betancur] on the
ballot, and L6pez will win." The fact that
L6pez did not win is a reminder to the disen-
chanted that the Colombian system is flexi-
ble. While some vote-buying and other
forms of electoral persuasion existed, they
apparently were not enough to influence
the election results. Betancur's victory in-
stilled a breath of life into the Colombian
political process. In addition to the surpris-
ing victory of the Conservative Party, the
anticipation of a new Galan candidacy in
1986 has given momentum to the ailing
system.
The Conservatives themselves are quick
to emphasize the elements of change. In a
glowing, front-page editorial, written in
nearly-liturgical language, the Bototi con-
servative daily El Siglo beamed, "We now
know that hope has triumphed, it is a great
change, the most immediate thing is the
change in the country's spirits. It makes one
want to shout. Lift up your hearts, because
there is hope." But not all are so optimistic.
"The car is the same and today, a new
chauffeur is being chosen," warned leading
El Tiempo columnist Daniel Samper.


"Changing the conductor of the orchestra,
while the same musicians go on playing
more or less the same tune, is not an au-
thentic alternative."
Betancur will have to prove to the people
who voted for him that he is indeed capable
of playing a different tune. He spoke to peo-
ple's basic needs, offering such things as
free university for those with a high school
education and low-cost housing without
down payments. But how he will be able to
live up to his image of change will depend to
a large extent on the people who surround
him. Betancur's candidacy was supported
by two very divergent branches of the Con-
servative Party, the moderate wing headed
by Misael Pastrana, and the hard-line, to the
right of Ronald Reagan, wing headed by
Alvaro G6mez. People bargaining for
something new may find they get new wine
in old bottles. This may increase discontent
with the electoral system, a pattem of grow-
ing frustration which the recent elections
seemed to overturn.
Betancur will also have to deal with the
army, which opposes the broad amnesty
which he has advocated. He will also find
himself without an absolute majority in the
congress, although the executive branch is
the most powerful one in Colombia. And


despite his four candidacies, it is still un-
clear as to just what sort of president he will
be. His two clear priorities are peace and
economic development. His low-key style
will probably win him bargaining power
with his own as well as opposition parties.
What is left after a failure of Betancur to
provide change is likely to be deep-seated
apathy towards the political process or a call
to arms. While Colombia has a long guer-
rilla tradition, its democratic system is even
longer and more deep-seated. The growth
of the April 19th Movement (M-19) is proba-
bly the first time in Colombian history that
guerrillas have gained support in poor
neighborhoods, as well as in the univer-
sities. The guerrillas held a press con-
ference to state their plans to disrupt the
elections. However, their plans were aborted
when a small Renault (used to transport
materials with which to blow up the coun-
try's largest television communications an-
tenna which transmits television signals
countrywide) exploded in a gas station out-
side of Bogota. The eight guerrillas cap-
tured-many of them seriously injured-
were all university students. The failure of
the guerrillas to disrupt both the presiden-
tial elections and the March primary elec-
tions does not mean their power has
diminished. If peace cannot be made and
economic solutions be found for social un-
rest, Colombia is likely to be facing a politi-
cal crisis within five to ten years. Thus,
Betancur's election and his administration
are likely to be seen as a test of the flexibility
of the political system both for the people
and the politicians.
Perhaps the most remarkable thing
about the recent elections--apart from the
fact that there were so many of them in a
region viewed from the outside as one of
military dictatorships and palace coups-is
the voter turnout. It once again demon-
strated that Latin Americans will go to ex-
tremes to exercise their right to vote if they
are given a glimmer of hope that it will count
for something. The Dominican Republic
and El Salvador provide contrasting and
dramatic examples. In El Salvador, voters
walked miles and braved bullets to cast their
ballots in record numbers for a constituent
assembly. In the Dominican Republic, in-
creasingly a democratic showcase for the
Caribbean, voters waited in line for as much
as eight hours under a broiling sun and
occasional rainstorms. Even in Mexico,
where the outcome is a foregone conclu-
sion, an estimated 77% of the eligible voters
turned out for presidential elections July 4.
By contrast, a 50 to 60% turnout of the US
electorate for a presidential election is con-
sidered good by today's standards. The dif-
ference, perhaps, is that other peoples of
the hemisphere cherish their right to vote
more because democracy in many cases is
still a unique experiment and voting is a
responsibility taken seriously. A


CAIBBEAN PEVIEW/41











Islands...
Continued from page 11


Soledad, the declaration by Spain in 1766
that the islands formed a dependency of the
Captaincy-General of BuenosAires, andthe
appointment of a governor for the islands in
the same year are evidence of corpus oc-
cupandi on the part of Spain. It ought to be
emphasized that these acts constituted the
first concrete steps taken by Spain to con-
vert any title it claimed to the islands into
legal reality.
Almost simultaneously the British, too,
were undertaking acts evidencing corpus
occupandi on their part through their es-
tablishment of a garrison at Port Egmont. In
chronological terms the British arrival at
Port Egmont preceded Spain's possession
of Puerto Soledad by fourteen months. The
expulsion of the British garrison from Port
Egmont in 1770 and its subsequent resto-
ration by Spain to Britain the following year,
although avowedly without prejudice to the
question of sovereignty over the islands can
only be interpreted as an acknowledgment
by Spain of Britain's claim to the islands.
The disclaimer on sovereignty meant only
that Spain did not acquiesce in Britain's
claim. The reservation by Spain could not
ipso facto vacate the claim of Britain; on
the other hand, restoring to Britain its settle-
ment in the Falklands acknowledged at the
very least that Britain had a claim.
Britain's subsequent withdrawal from
Port Egmont in 1774 must be seen in this
light. Having received acknowledgment of
its claim from Spain it left behind evidence
that it was not relinquishing this very claim.
Furthermore, the voyage of Captain Cook
and his discovery and claiming of South
Georgia and the South Sandwich Islands
the following year was evidence that in with-
drawing from Port Egmont Britain was not
abandoning its interests in the south
Atlantic.
The general conclusion that may be
drawn from these facts is that Spain
claimed and exercised sovereign acts over
the Falklands until it withdrew its governor
in 1806. Britain, too, was in "effective oc-
cupation" of a part of the islands till 1774
and it had received acknowledgment of its
claim from Spain. Thus, when Spain com-
pleted its withdrawal from the Falklands in
1811 the only claimant left at that time was
Great Britain. Much has been made of Brit-
ain's withdrawal with suggestions that such
a withdrawal implied an abandonment of its
claim. It is important, however, to view the
action in its context. After the Spanish set-
tlement with France in 1767 only two claim-
ants to the Falklands remained; and one,
Britain, received concrete acknowledgment
of its claim from the other, Spain. Having
voluntarily thus acknowledged Britain's


claim Spain would in law be precluded from
denying it subsequently.
Interestingly, there appears to be another
point in Britain's favor specifically in its dis-
pute with Argentina. Argentina has based its
belated claim to the dependencies of South
Georgia and the South Sandwich Islands on
the notions of proximity and on their puta-
tive territorial unity with the Falklands. With
respect to Argentina, then, it would be per-
missible to argue that British intentions and
actions with respect to the dependencies
also encompassed the Falklands them-
selves. If Argentina claims that the depen-
dencies are integrally parts of the Falkland
Islands in a territorial and legal sense then it
is not unfair to extend to the Falklands the
animus and corpus occupandi displayed
towards South Georgia and the South
Sandwich Islands by Britain in 1775 and
thereafter. One party could not legally be
permitted to gain from an alleged "fact"
without allowing to the other party whatever
advantage may flow from the same "fact."
The link between whatever rights Spain
may have possessed in the Falklands and
Argentina's claim to the islands is the suc-
cession that Argentina claims for itself. No
treaty with Spain declares that Argentina
"universally" succeeded to the Viceroyalty
of the River Plate. In fact, Argentina did not
so succeed because the Viceroyalty broke
up into four new states, Argentina, Bolivia,
Paraguay and Uruguay. Furthermore, after
the uprising of 1810 Spanish interests were
maintained, as far as was possible, by the
governor at Montevideo. It may even be
argued that Argentina attempted to suc-
ceed universally to Spain by seeking to as-
sert its control over all the territories of the
Viceroyalty but failed to do so. Clearly, there
can be no obvious presumption of Argen-
tine succession to Spain in the territories of
the former Viceroyalty.
In addition, Spain withdrew its official
presence from the Falklands in 1806 and
completed the final withdrawal of all its per-
sonnel by 1811. Subsequently, it made no
further claim to the Falklands. Thus, it ap-
pears that Spain's withdrawal in 1806, at
least by construction, was a final abandon-
ment of the islands. It was not until 1816
that the United Provinces of the Rio de la
Plata formally declared independence from
Spain. In the same year it claimed sov-
ereignty over the Malvinas. It appears, then,
that a critical 10-year hiatus existed be-
tween Spain's withdrawal of 1806 and the
establishment of the precursor to modern
Argentina. Indeed, Spain's withdrawal oc-
curred some years prior to the Buenos Aires
uprising of 1810.
The actions of the Buenos Aires au-
thorities towards the Falklands between
1816 and 1832 certainly qualify as display
of animus and corpus occupandi. The
designation of a governor in 1823, the
granting of concessions to Pacheco and


Vernet in 1823 and 1828, the creation of a
Political and Military Commandancy of the
Malvinas in 1829 and the appointment of
Vernet as Commandant the same year all
clearly contribute towards the establish-
ment of "effective occupation." On the
other hand, it must be noted that strong
British protests were lodged some months
after the establishment of the Comman-
dancy of the Malvinas.
The challenge to Argentine claims was
not exclusively British. The United States,
which had long-standing sealing interests
in the South Atlantic, regarded the Falk-
lands at this time (1830-31) as terra nul-
lius, that is under the sovereignty of no
nation, and rejected the attempts made by
Vernet to regulate US ships in Falklands
waters.
The British ultimately returned to Port
Egmont in 1832 and forced the surrender
of the Argentine garrison at Puerto Soledad
in January 1833. Since then the British
have continuously and peacefully exercised
all the rights of sovereignty in the Falklands
until they were temporarily dislodged by the
Argentine action of April 2, 1982. The Falk-
lands dependencies of South Georgia and
the South Sandwich Islands have been un-
ambiguously British since the last quarter
of the eighteenth century. Argentina's re-
cent claims to these islands receive support
neither from their history nor from interna-
tional law as it used to be in the eighteenth
century and thereafter to the present.
The Falklands themselves have had a
very different history, being claimed at vari-
ous times by Spain, France, Britain and
Argentina. Argentina's claim to the Falk-
lands depends upon its putative succession
to Spain in the territory of the Viceroyalty of
the River Plate. Even if such a succession
can be proven-it has been argued above
to be very doubtful-Argentina could still
only succeed to rights that Spain itself pos-
sessed at the time of succession. The fact
that Spain withdrew from the Falklands be-
fore the formation of the United Provinces
of the Rio de la Plata creates an awkward
gap for Argentina's case. We know that at
least in the view of the United States the
Falklands were terra nullius in the period
1830-31. The sovereignty issue of the Falk-
lands was finally resolved by Britain, which
supported its claim with adequate force.
A point should be made to place the Brit-
ish use of force of 1833 in its temporal and
legal setting. Nineteenth century political
and legal theory viewed the state as being
absolutely sovereign, including within its
authority the absolute right to use force that
is without any international accountability.
Since the Great War of 1914-1918 however,
numerous efforts have been mounted to
restrict the use of force by states. The most
important of these efforts is the UN Charter,
according to which the use of force is re-
stricted to self-defense and collective mea-


42/CAIBBEAN PevFJE


I I





































sures decided upon by the Security
Council. Just as any constitution, the Char-
ter defines norms; equally, it too cannot
guarantee that its norms will be observed in
all cases.
It is important to draw attention to the
changes that have occurred in the past 150
years in international norms-rules of state
behavior-and to the necessity of evalu-
ating state actions by their contemporary
norms. Consequently, British actions of
1833 must be evaluated by the standards of
the time, and Argentina's recent seizure of
the Falklands by current standards. While
such a procedure may appear to treat the
use of force by the two parties unequally, it
must not be forgotten that the intervening
150 years have made war not only far more
costly in human and economic terms but
that since 1945 the survival of mankind
itself has come to be jeopardized by war.
This consideration by itself would be suffici-
ent reason to treat modern wars and other
uses of force differently from those of pre-
vious ages.

A Permanent Solution
What are the conditions under which a per-
manent settlement of the dispute may be
possible? The most obvious condition is a
normal peaceful setting in which a perma-
nent settlement can be negotiated. The loss
of life on both sides requires a decent inter-
val before the national positions and inter-
ests in whose name those losses were
incurred can be adjusted and bargained
through diplomatic negotiations. The same
consideration applies to the loss of materiel
and other economic costs. National pas-
sions, aroused by the hostilities and fanned
by politicians, the news media and other
less-than-disinterested elements of the two


states, will also need time to cool off before
the respective representatives can confi-
dently resume negotiations.
A permanent settlement of the Falklands
dispute may also have to be postponed until
the cadres of leaders involved with the re-
cent hostilities are replaced by others not
shackled to positions and statements
adopted during the military conflict. Such a
process of replacement already appears to
be underway in Argentina; in Britain it may
occur only at the next general election if the
Conservative Party either loses or replaces
Mrs. Thatcher as its leader.
Clearly, there will also have to be under-
taken national efforts directed at refor-
mulating public opinion in both states so
that a compromise, once it has been
worked out, is not scuttled by dema-
goguery.
If a settlement is worked out it will most
likely be one that will be implemented in
phases rather than abruptly. It will, further,
have to recognize the geographical, politi-
cal and economic realities of the time. Fore-
most among these factors appear to be two,
the relative proximity of the Falklands to
Argentina and the high level of nationalistic
sentiment in Argentina over the Falklands.
While Britain has certainly demonstrated
that it can mount a successful military cam-
paign many thousand miles away against
high odds the long term prospects of a
tense and draining position still appear to
be against Britain.
The interests of the islands' residents, the
so-called "kelpers," may in fact be more
negotiable than Mrs. Thatcher and the Falk-
land Islands lobby in London have been
willing to admit. Interestingly, while the re-
cent hostilities appear to have stiffened the
will to "keep the Falkland Islands British" in


the short run, the absurdity of having a gar-
rison of 3,000 or more soldiers to protect
less than 2,000 persons 8,000 miles from
Britain is likely to sink in over the longer run.
Here, too, a settlement that is effected in
phases over a long period of time, say, a
generation or longer, will have a far better
chance of accommodating the islanders'
interest than one completed in a shorter
period. A UN trusteeship or other interna-
tional plan that provides for a gradual with-
drawal by Britain and its subjects and a
corresponding gradual introduction of Ar-
gentina into decision-making and control
over the Falklands thus seems most likely
to succeed.
The "internationalization" of the dispute
will, most likely, have to be matched by a
widening of the range of interests included
in any permanent settlement. Because the
resolution of the Falklands question has se-
rious ramifications in Antarctica and for
transit through the Drake Passage as-
surances of the maintenance of the inter-
ests of the parties, particularly Britain, in
these areas will probably be necessary. The
recent arrangements between the Antarctic
Treaty parties on the marine and mineral
resources of that continent and its waters
are steps in that direction.
The satisfaction of these conditions will
necessitate the emergence of pragmatic,
rather than dogmatic, leaders on both
sides. While the recent hostilities may have
made it more difficult for the above condi-
tions to develop it must be recognized that
factors which would encourage their devel-
opment are also immanent in the present
situation. The stark possibility of recurring
hostilities with all the attendant dangers and
costs is perhaps, foremost among such
factors. A


CAl?BBEAN fEVIEW/43










Chagito ..
Continued from page 13

his abuelo told him to go upstairs and eat.
He had prepared a delicious black bean
soup, and good bread with butter. At least,
meals with his abuelo were regular and
Chagito never cooked for himself, like he
used to when his mother came from work
then suddenly went back out to look for his
father, who was out somewhere "messing
around" as she would always say. He ate
lunch while watching TV (it was on all day
and late into the night). He sat on the big
sofa which opened up at night into his bed.
He was somewhat attentive in front of the
machine, then slowly, after that heavy meal,
he slid into sleep, the words of a TV program
about rising unemployment and unraveling
family life falling onto his ears...
"i Chagitol" The voice was loud and woke
the boy up. At first he had confused it with
the sounds from the TV, but-no-it was his
abuelo. He shook his head and got up
quickly. Halfway down, there again came
that voice. It pulled at him. Grabbed him. "Te
he estado buscando en los ultimos cinco
minutes. eEstabas arriba durmiendo? i/A
bendito! iTi, tan vago como siempre!
"But abuelo, I'm tired."
"iQue?" his abuelo said. "Tired? Ju es
mush too jung to be tired. iMjo hay trabajo
pa'hacer! Sabes eso, uerdad? What ju do
upstairs, sleep? When you become old man
ju sleep. Now, ju work"
"But when can I go out?" asked Chagito,
his voice edged with refusal. "It's already the
aftemoon and I haven't been out once to
play with my friends."
His abuelo looked at him. "Mas tarde.










Florida International University now
offers a Master of Arts program in
Economics with an emphasis in
International economic develop-
ment. The program, consisting of 30
semester hours with the option of a
thesis or a research paper, is
designed to be completed in one
year. For information please contact:

Dr. Jorge Salazar
Department of Economics
Florida International University
Miami, Florida 33199
(305) 554-2316


Puedes ir ajugar con tus amigos mis
tarde, okay?" he said. ",Ju help me now?"
"Leche" said a voice then, "iHay leche
en poloo" A lady from just up the street
wanting leche en polvo. "Leche," she re-
peated to his abuelo. "iHay leche en
polvo?"
Chagito looked at her from his position
next to the counter.
"iLeche? Si, hay en el almacen. Cha-
gito, bdscame una caja de atrds," the old
man commanded. He went into the back-
room, a confused, crowded area of full
boxes, half-full boxes, empty boxes, a bro-
ken chair, a broken fan, empty and full soda
bottles, plastic cartons, loaves of bread that
had molded, insecticide, old curtain rods, a
torn cushion, the steering wheel of the
Chevy his abuelo once owned. Leche en
polvo, sought the leader of the Spanish
forces against the English.
1 wish I never came here, thought Cha-
gito, pulling at the firmly adhered lid of the
carton; I should have run away. Once, when
there was so much trouble at home, he had
tried to run away and took the IRT as far as
149th Street before he was stopped in his
progression downtown by a subway patrol-
man. Chagito had gotten off the train and
the huge labyrinth filled with roaring noises
and disinterested people had brought forth
his tears. He only wanted to get to Staten
Island, where he'd gone once before with a
teacher...but the policeman noticed the
ripped paper bag with clothes falling out; he
noticed the hungry, sad little boy. If I run
away again, he thought, I won't cry and no
one will stop me. I'll have my things in a
suitcase, and write a note with permission
that I'll say is from my mother-like before,
when she had signed the slip and gave Cha-
gito money to go to Staten Island.
He ripped open the box. "Work," he mut-
tered angrily to himself, as he walked with
the carton of Carnation powdered milk to
the front of the store.
His abuelo wanted to discuss the unpaid
account with the lady but there had been a
killing over some money up the street and
that was more important. Chagito himself
wondered what else the cranky old man
would find for him to do. What a way to
spend the summer! He couldn't leave with-
out first asking permission; he wasn't free
anymore to roam around like he'd done in
the Bronx, which was an awful place to raise
children, his abuelo told his daughter when
she had tearfully called to tell him about the
mess her life was in. He wished he was in the
Bronx though-he could play stickball and
didn't have to work. Ugh, boxes to unpack,
shelves to clean, windows to wash, floors to
sweep. No free time. If he lounged around,
his abuelo's voice would break into that
serenity. "iLimpiaste los anaqueles?" he
would ask. "iYya barriste el piso?"
Dense foliage opened up and a
cacaphony of men's voices were heard as


they walked through the jungle. "The re-
sistance is too strong! We'll never capture
the island!" said the Colonel.
General Romero looked at him through
that weary face, "We must plan our attack
carefully now that we have support from the
people."
"But there's a Navy cruiser out there de-
fending the port," he said.
The General answered bravely, "I'll de-
stroy it. Plant a mine."
"But you can't, the ship is guarded
carefully..."
The General stopped and turned to look
squarely into the officer's face; behind them
the long line of troops also halted. "Don't tell
me what I can do, Colonel," he said firmly, "If
we have to destroy the ship to protect our
troops then...then I'll take two men tonight
and plant a mine. Mark my words tomorrow
there won't be a ship sitting out there." He
spoke loudly, "We'll free this Island. I will
never surrender!" And those men around
him nodded in agreement. Already five had
volunteered.
At the mountain camp a raft was quickly
assembled, and a Russian ZX6 magnetic
mine readied for the trip down the moun-
tain roads to the shore. The men had all
urged the General not to go, but he wanted
to destroy the ship himself. "I've got this far
and tomorrow I'll take us further. Closer to
liberation." He stood up from the circle of
sitting, squatting men. "We must destroy
the invaders from the North!" he cried.
"It's a dangerous mission, General," said
the Colonel.
"Danger is what we always face now," he
replied curtly. "When people want to be free
they must fight!" His band of soldiers
looked at him with great concern, because
of the immensity of the task. "Let's go. We
begin our march to liberation," he turned
and waved as his small auxiliary group car-
rying the raft and weapons filed slowly
along with him away toward the dark, dis-
tant Atlantic coast...
"Chagito!"
He was handed a rag and told to dust the
bottom shelves, where the Clorox and Tide
were. It was late noon already, and still his
abuelo deliberated. At around three, Cha-
gito finally pursed his lips and muttered it
was late and he'd never get out to see his
friends, who'd already come twice to find
out when he would finish. His abuelo sud-
denly flashed a smile looking down and
seeing in his grandson's eyes an image very
much like himself when he was young. He
tousled Chagito's hair, "Okay, ju work hard
today. Regresa a las siete para cenar," he
said softly, realizing he had worked hard.
Chagito breathed a sigh of high relief;
then with a big smile on his face,
Giieybana-the Brave, the Valiant-; El
Comiandante; The General, went out to
play in the visionary and fraternal world of
childhood.


44/CAIBBEAN IPEIvW











Cancuin...
Continued from page 17

ing world-and the present status of
poverty, illiteracy, and hunger-had been
presented to the industrialized nations of
the North, and the sense that the burden
was now on the developed nations to return
with programs and proposals. Lacking any
real lever, the better option for the nations of
the South was to wait-at least a few
months-and see.
The three Latin American nations that
attended the conference in Cancuin-Mex-
ico, Venezuela and Brazil-are also the
most developed in the region. Although the
positions of all three reflected the major
concerns of the developing nations of the
region, in fact, the interest of all three "newly
industrializing countries" is substantially
different from the rest of Latin America and
the Caribbean. As oil producing states, both
Mexico and Venezuela have a resource that
makes them more solvent-and potentially
more vulnerable-than most of their neigh-
bors. Mexico and Brazil have incurred sub-
stantial debt because of record levels of
economic growth. In 1981, Mexico's in-
debtedness, both public and private, totaled
$70 billion and is expected to reach $80
billion in 1982; comparing those figures to
those projected by Brazil, Mexico's debt will
surpass that of Brazil, thereby making Mex-
ico's level of debt the highest in the develop-
ing world. This ability to borrow, however,
also has made all three nations the fastest
developing nations in the region. Mexico's
growth (which will be 8-10% next year) con-
trasts favorably even with the growth rates in
industrialized countries.
All three Latin American representatives
argued fervently at Cancun, for greater reg-
ulation of international trade to stabilize
commodity prices (in contrast to an equally
strongly-stated US position to encourage
international free trade). Unregulated inter-
national trade is not necessarily beneficial
to the developing world-particularly Latin
America. Because of their relatively low lev-
els of industrialization, these nations (es-
pecially the island economies of the
Caribbean) rely on primary products which
fluctuate enormously in price, and render
their economies vulnerable to the fluctua-
tions of the international market. One of the
principal demands the developing nations
brought to Canc6n, was a request for a reg-
ulation of commodity prices. Kurt Wald-
heim, former United Nations secretary-
general (who attended as a guest), argued
that the need to stabilize world commodity
prices was one of the four most pressing
problems in the developing world.
For most of Latin America, GATT (Gen-
eral Agreement on Trade and Tariff) is not
attractive; Mexico and Venezuela, for exam-
ple are not members. Indeed, Mexico's prin-


cipal trade representative to the US argues
that the trade principles embodied in GATT
are out of date and that the General System
of Preferences is a better approach. At Can-
cun, Mexico made its views on GATT very
clear. As did Venezuela. For different rea-
sons, Brazil argued the same point on trade
policies in Cancun. Brazil's Foreign Minister
spoke at the conference on this issue un-
abashedly: "One cannot predicate the ob-
jective of economic and social develop-
ment-even in those countries where
economic policies encourage the inflow of
risk capital-on activities which are by defi-
nition profit-oriented and which might not
be available when needed." The trade pol-
icies, that the developed countries support,
are "discriminatory," he argued, "they
hamper the import capacity of some
countries."
Unlike monetary reform issues, on which
compromise solutions are being examined,
trade appears to be an issue on which the
rich and the poor have locked horns. The
United States is calling for increased open
trade policies with an emphasis on GATT
US trade policy, formulated in large by
William E. Brock, United States Trade Rep-
resentative, has different and apparently in-
compatible priorities. "Internationally,"
Brock has stated, "we will pursue policies
aimed at the achievement of open trade
and the reduction of trade distortions." In-
vestment incentives widely adopted by de-
veloping countries which are trade related
can have serious side-effects, he argued. It
was this policy that the US carried to Can-
cin. This new trade emphasis by developed
countries--and opposition to it by develop-
ing countries especially in Latin America-
has led to what appears to be a stalemate on
the issues of trade. "Market mechanisms
cannot be considered in abstraction of
trade, economic and political realities," Bra-


Scholarly
multidisciplinary
journal
devoted entirely
to Cuba


zil's foreign minister argued. Frustrated by
the apparent deadlock, he concluded, "the
debate has slipped between those who are
in principal concerned with development
and those concerned with reactivating the
world economy."
In mild language which represented the
common denominator of the varied points
of view represented at the conference, the
conference co-chairmen presented the
conference summary on October 23. Al-
though the United States had clearly dis-
agreed on the desire to set a timetable-or
even to agree on the format-of future
global negotiations, the summary ex-
pressed the desire of the participants to
launch future talks at the United Nations.
Analyses of current international eco-
nomic dilemmas have focused on several
issues: the economic self-interest of the
North; the mutual interests of both devel-
oped and developing nations; the dangers
of balance of payment shortfalls and eco-
nomic and political collapse in the poorest
developing countries; and finally, the use of
debt and trade imbalances as a political
threat. While the economic self-interest of
the North remains a fact of modern life, the
picture, however, has shifted since World
War II, due to increased transfers of technol-
ogy, shifts of wealth to oil exporting nations
in the developing world and the increased
levels of industrialization and growth in
many of these states so that todaythe South
is not just a retail outlet for the North but a
supplier as well.
The dangers of a crisis resulting from
overwhelming balance of payment deficits,
sky-rocketing debt servicing costs, and
food shortages suggest that the well-being
of the North is tied to the fate of the South.
For if a developing nation defaults, or
worse, declares itself bankrupt-economic
and political turmoil will result, the nation


CUBAN

STUDIES


Cuban Studies/Estudios Cubanos is published twice a year by the University of
Pittsburgh's Center for Latin American Studies. Each issue includes articles
relevant to contemporary themes, with summaries in Spanish and English, plus
book reviews, a classified bibliography of recent publications, an inventory of
current research, and an author index. The most recent issues feature:
Literature In Revolutionary Cuba (January 1981)
The Cuban Exodus: A Symposium (July 1981/ January 1982)
Prerevolutionary Cuban Society (July 1982)
Annual subscriptions: $8 for individuals and $16 for institutions
Back issues: $4.50 for individuals and $8.50 for institutions


University of Pittsburgh
Center for Latin American Studies
4E04 Forbes Quadrangle
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15260


Prepayment requested;
please make checks payable to:
University of Pittsburgh.


CA]BBEAN PVIEW/45













Revista/


Review

Inter-

americana
ISSN 0360-7917
Multidisciplinary Bilingual
(Spanish-English)
Quarterly of Interamerican
Interest
Now entering its 9th year of
publication, with articles for both the
general reader and the specialist in
Puerto Rican, Caribbean and Latin
American affairs.

Articles on linguistics, literature,
history, education, anthropology,
political affairs and economics. Plus
poetry, short stories and book reviews.

Special themes have included
Education in Puerto Rico, U.S.
Foreign Policy in Latin America,
Sociolinguistics and Bilingualism,
Race Relations in the Americas,
Population, Women in Latin America,
Caribbean Literature, the Bicentennial
and the Caribbean, Modernization in
the Caribbean, Caribbean Dictators,
Cuba in the 20th Century.. .etc.

Forthcoming issues include Tainos,
Migration, Religion, Women Poets,
and others.

Authors have included such recognized
authorities as Margaret Mead, Erich
Fromm, Eric Williams, Magnus
Morer, Joshua Fishman, J.L. Dillard,
Aurelio Ti6, Washington Llorens,
Bernard Lowy, Selden Rodman,
Herbert J. Muller, Eugene Wigner, T.
Dale Stewart, John Bartlow Martin,
Henry Wells, George Lamming, Piri
Thomas, and others.
Published Four Times A Year
Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter
Institutions: $16.00 per year
Individuals: $10.00/yr; $16.00/2 yrs.

Inter American University
Press
G.P.O. Box 3255, San Juan,
Puerto Rico 00936


may collapse, and finally, the North has to
pay; clearly both sides are seriously hurt in
the process. This scenario has a basis in the
present-day monetary and financial reality:
it is one of the premises on which the North
and the South agreed to meet at Cancun. To
date, the North has rescheduled loans of
developing nations that have reached the
edge of the cliff. This "recycling" has been
achieved at minimal cost to the developed
nations or to the private corporations and
insurance companies involved. The nega-
tive consequences, however, may increase
as the era of cheap energy and low-cost
borrowing ends.
To forecast Armegeddon because of this
issue would be inappropriate as the North
has not and will not let it happen. This leads
to a third major school of thought, which is
the concept of "mutual interest." The rea-
son that total collapse does not occur is
because it would also damage the devel-
oped countries. The opposite side of the
"mutual interest" coin is that the South, as
the World Bank 1981 development report
calls it, is also the "engine of growth" to the
developed nations, keeping down inflation
and providing raw materials.


The Caribbean Basin Initiative
The Caribbean Basin Initiative has been,
from day one-when Secretary of State
Haig first announced it as a "mini-Marshall
plan"-a bundle of contradictions. To its
critics, it has set out to achieve the three
objectives which Mexico's L6pez Portillo
first argued would doom it to disaster: con-
tain communism, unfairly exclude certain
nations in the region, and link economic
and military assistance. Characteristic of
US policy since the Monroe Doctrine, the
program was a unilateral announcement of
multilateral goals. Venezuela has spent $7
million in programs for energy cooperation,
Minister of Energy and Mines Humberto
Calder6n Berti argued in Cancin. Ulti-
mately, the administration backed off after
early criticism and consulted with some of
the nations which were to be involved. After
several months of fits-and-starts, the ad-
ministration formally announced the plan
last February. Even to its allies, the Initiative
falls short of the massive aid that the region
needs, it is arriving late, and it is described
often as a program "created with mirrors"
since it is seen as a new packaging of exis-
tant programs.
The six point economic program in-
cludes several measures to spur develop-
ment in the Caribbean basin which
includes concessions in the areas of aid,
trade, and private investment. The three-
tiered program proposes $350 million in
additional aid for the region and $60 million
in military assistance. Other points of the
program include a one-way free trade ar-
rangement-never before attempted-tax


incentives to foreign investors, technical
training programs (such as promotion of
investment and marketing techniques), co-
ordination with Canada, Mexico, Colombia
and Venezuela who already have programs
such as the San Jose accord to assist in oil
exploration, and special items for Puerto
Rico and the Virgin Islands to protect their
rum trade.
Much of the criticism has centered
around the military aid, since the majority of
the aid was planned for El Salvador, which
has continued to sink into deeper conflict.
The staunchest opposition however, came
in the US Congress from manufacturing
interest groups because of the access that
goods from the region would have, duty-
free, in the US market.
By the time the CBI was "reported out" of
Trade Subcommittee of the House Ways
and Means Committee in early May, the tex-
tile, footwear, and leather industries in the
US had lobbied their way to protect these
products from protection under the legisla-
tion. Several amendments introduced in
the Subcommittee on Inter-American Af-
fairs included additional allocations for
scholarships for students from the region to
study in the US, as well as a limit on the
amount of direct aid that each nation could
receive. The strength of the initiative was
diluted in early May with recent revisions
proposed by the administration to add im-
port quotas in imported sugar, including
sugar from the Caribbean basin, which will
severely damage export eamings from Bra-
zil, Guatemala and Panama and cripple
sugar trade from the Dominican Republic.
The CBI should be added to the recent
proposals for private sector participation to
form a package of aid to Washington's
neighbors to the South. Programs which
induce lending by private sources chan-
neled through multilateral lending institu-
tions appear to satisfy all needs: the private
sector benefits from the experience, re-
spectability, and scholarship of interna-
tional lending institutions such as the World
Bank or regional development banks; the
multilateral financial institutions are able to
mobilize greater resources; and developing
nations are able to borrow more from the
preferred channel of multilateral organiza-
tions. Increased multilateral aid is possible if
contributions from private lenders are
added to official assistance through pro-
grams of "co-financing."
Co-financing programs may take several
forms. Co-financing is defined by the World
Bank: "any arrangement whereby funds
from the World Bank are associated with
funds provided by other sources outside the
borrowing country in the financing of a par-
ticular project." These projects bring out-
side capital from three areas: (1) official
sources (governments, agencies, and mul-
tilateral financial institutions), (2) export
credit institutions (which finance goods and


46/CAIBBEAN VIEW










services from a particular country), and
(3) private financial institutions (such as
commercial banks, insurance companies).
In 1980, almost 40% of all World Bank proj-
ects included some form of co-financing.
The total reached $6 billion in projects that
were co-financed; $1.7 billion of that came
from the private sector.
Because of this increase in lending ca-
pacity, the bank has argued strongly that
lending from private sources contributes on
a significant level to meeting the needs of
the developing countries. As a result of wide
support, co-financing projects doubled be-
tween 1979 and 1980, a period when offi-
cial development assistance was shrinking
rapidly.
CBI critics such as Hodding Carter ll,
have questioned the administration's "un-
derlying rationale for supporting the mili-
tary regimes of Central America" by means
of the program "advertised as a compre-
hensive approach to the problems of the
region." Not surprisingly, the CBI may serve
this purpose for the administration. But
then it is the military programs-and those
alone-which should be eliminated.
A vested interest is no good reason, at
this stage, to block an economic program
which most of the countries involved would
desperately like to receive. The Dominican
Republic and Costa Rica's new Social Dem-
ocratic presidents are entering office with
seemingly unresolvable economic dilem-
mas. In fact, much of the opposition is com-
ing from protectionist groups at home and
not from the criticism of the military aspects
of the policy. The most legitimate criticism
of the plan is that it is merely a "drop in the
bucket" to the nations of the region, and is
anything but comprehensive. With all its
limitations, however, the failure to enact a
plan of economic assistance in the region
would have significant consequences.
There are several plans for increased in-
vestment in Latin America and the Carib-
bean which might supplement a Caribbean
basin plan, or the World Bank's co-financ-
ing plans. "Tax sparing" is a program which
has been proposed as a program to stimu-
late investment, and eliminate or reduce
income taxes on investments outside the
US-by the allocation of preferences. In
short, it is a system of tax credits. An early
example of this was the program that al-
lowed corporations to receive 100% in-
come tax exemption to invest in Puerto Rico
under Section 936 of the US Internal Reve-
nue Code (originally Section 931), as long
as the corporation reinvested in Puerto
Rico. Programs such as the 936 Corpora-
tion, should be tailored to not impose ex-
cessive investments from outside but to
supplement income and production. An-
other innovative plan was proposed by
George Shultz, then-Chairman of Reagan's
Economic Policy Advisory Board. He sug-
gested the creation of an international code


for investments-"a sort of GATT for invest-
ment." This type of general agreement on
investment would increase and stimulate
flows of private capital building on pro-
posals such as those in the International
Finance Corporation (IFC). In a recent re-
port written by former Assistant Secretary of
State Viron P Vaky, the steering committee
recommended the establishment of a re-
gional Intemational Finance Corporation as
a private sector window in the Inter-Ameri-
can Development Bank.

The Brandt Commission
In January, 1982, the Brandt Commission,
frustrated by the lack of results from the
Cancin conference, met again, to reassess
the demands that the developing nations
had made at Canc6n. Meeting in Kuwait,
Willy Brandt repeated the call for global ne-
gotiations. "Countries in distress," he
warned, "particularly the poorest, cannot
wait for the outcome." To date, nothing has
come of the Canc(n initiative. The crisis in
the South Atlantic has exacerbated tensions
in the region. The summit conference at
Versailles of the seven major industrial
countries in June proved that there is fun-
damental disagreement on the basic princi-
pals of economic growth, such as the
relationship between unemployment and
inflation.
Washington's Latin American neighbors
have waited two years for the design of a
coherent foreign economic policy-what-
ever the shape-to appear. Instead, the ad-


ministration's foreign policy designates
continue to publicly feud and the admin-
istration is the butt of jokes in Cancun and
in Versailles that are all too reminiscent of
international reaction to the Carter group's
enigmatic policies.
Cancin was a gentle reminder that the
US, along with other advanced industrial
nations, has a responsibility as well as a
national self-interest in securing economic
and political stability in Latin America, Asia,
and Africa. If Washington can convince the
US private sector to join in the effort, so
much the better. But Latin America is not a
laboratory and Washington needs to in-
clude a fall-back plan to provide a compre-
hensive and far-sighted economic
program.
Jose L6pez Portillo opened the con-
ference by warming, "Our world today is still
split by a lacerating contradiction between
opulence and poverty...and between prog-
ress, backwardness, and sometimes even
backsliding." As a leader of a nation recently
elevated to the level of a world power and
beset with devaluation and oil "indigestion,"
the comment by Mexico's President re-
flected a leader well-aware of the pain that
poverty inflicts on a nation. Washington's
economic programs in the hemisphere
carry with them the increased prospects for
international cooperation for the resolution
of poverty, illiteracy, and political turmoil;
with them they forecast the dangers which
the failure to produce such results might
bring.


CAI?BBEAN PVIEW1/47


THE



CA? BBCAN



E AWARD

We are pleased to accept nominations for the fourth annual Caribbean
Review Award, an annual presentation to honor an individual who has
contributed to the advancement of Caribbean intellectual life.
The award recognizes individual effort irrespective of field, ideology,
national origin, or place of residence.
The Award Committee consists of: Lambros Comitas (Chairman),
Columbia University, New York; Fuat Andic, Universidad de Puerto Rico,
San Juan, Puerto Rico; Wendell Bell, Yale University, New Haven, Con-
necticut; Locksley Edmondson, University of the West Indies, Mona, Ja-
maica; Anthony P. Maingot, Florida International University, Miami, Florida.
Nominations are to be sent to the Editor, Caribbean Review, Florida
International University, Miami, Florida 33199. Nominations must be
received by March 11, 1983.
The Third Annual Award will be announced atthe Eighth Annual Meeting
of the Caribbean Studies Association. In addition to a plaque the recipient
receives an honorarium of $250, donated by the International Affairs Cen-
ter of Florida International University.











Latin America...
Continued from page 21


In fact, since the Industrial Revolution, the
world economy has become expansive and
dynamic. There is today far more wealth
than there was 200 years ago. In absolute
terms, the wealth of virtually every nation
and region is greater than it was. Average life
expectancy is higher. Hygiene and health
are better. Some modernization has been
achieved. Yet relatively, individual nations
rise and fall as events, needs, and exertions
favor first one, then another. The rise of
Japan has been as spectacular as the de-
cline of Great Britain.
Moreover, the mere existence of depen-
dency does not mean that the under-
development of Latin America is a
consequence of the development of the
United States, or vice versa. A battery of
facts, says Ramos, must be accounted for:
(1) Only 5% of total US investment is made
abroad,and only 7% of the nation's produc-
tion is exported. The United States depends
relatively little on foreign trade. (2) About
70% of US foreign investments and exports
go to developed countries. Less than 20% of
US foreign investment goes to Latin Amer-
ica. US investment in Latin America repre-
sents less than one percent of the US gross
national product. (3) The average rate of
return on US investments in Latin America
has not been particularly high, either before
1950 or during the years 1950 to 1977.
This return has been higher than in Canada
but about the same as in Europe, Australia,
Asia, and Africa. (4) The often-repeated
statement that US investors in the Third
World take out more in profit than they in-
vest is, for all sound investments, a truism.
To invest $1,000 in a savings account for
ten years is to hope to withdraw significantly
more than the original $1,000. These new
funds are then available for new investment
elsewhere. Without such growth, econo-
mies stagnate and investment is futile. One
might as well be a miser. (5) To argue that
US corporate profits depend to a high de-
gree on investments in the Third World is to
err. Only about 200 US firms account for
most of US investments overseas. Of these,
virtually all make most of their investments
in the United States and in the developed
world. Seventeen percent of their foreign
investments are in Latin America. About
twenty firms account for half of all US over-
seas profits. For such US transnationals-
General Motors and General Electric, for
example-investments and sales within the
United States are, year by year, more than
ten times greater than those in the Third
World. In some years, profits made in some
operations make up for costs incurred for
new investments elsewhere. One must ex-
amine investments over time. (6) The


United States has for many years suffered a
balance-of-trade deficit; the total value of its
imports exceeds that of its exports. The net
effect is a weakening of the dollar in relation
to other currencies.
These six facts oblige Professor Ramos
to reject the center-periphery theory of de-
pendence. Belief in such a dubious theory
hinges, of course, on other assumptions.
Professor Ramos also deals with these.
Suppose, he says, exploitation does exist.
The exploitation of one people by another
has existed since the beginning of history.
"However, until the Industrial Revolution, no


After having opposed
modern economies for
centuries, the bishops
claim to be aggrieved
because others, once
equally poor, have
succeeded as they
have not.


people, no matter how exploitative or impe-
rialist they were, could reach a generalized,
sustained level of economic development."
A few nations first reached this level through
science, technology, and economic organi-
zation. The "wealth" of the center is far more
a consequence of such factors than of colo-
nial development. The contrast between
Great Britain and Spain since 1500 permits
no other conclusion.
Second, Gutierrez may find it "attractive
to place the fundamental blame for our
problems on dependency (and by so doing
blame others)," Ramos writes, but "might
not this dependence rather be a reflection of
the internal obstacles to development
which are encountered within our coun-
tries?" Ramos notes that each currently de-
veloped country also began in dependency.
"The United States broke out of its depen-
dency on what was then the greatest world
power, while Latin America, colonized at the
same time, still fails to do so." Since Spain
and Portugal are among the most under-
developed countries of Europe, Ramos
suggests that "internal structures common
to Latin American and Iberian countries are
the fundamental obstacles to overcoming
underdevelopment for us as much as for
them."
In the same vein, Gutierrez believes that
underdevelopment in Latin America is a
consequence of "private property." But
Ramos calls attention to a special charac-
teristic of Latin American property rights:
"the initial extreme concentration of eco-
nomic and political power (since colonial


times) in the hands of a few, and the conse-
quent limitation of opportunities." In the
United States, by contrast, property, power,
and opportunities were distributed much
more equally from the beginning. For
Ramos, a narrow concentration of wealth
has negative effects quite visible in regional
variations both in the United States and in
Latin America. In the US South, where
power and wealth were concentrated in the
landholding system, vigorous development
was delayed until after World War II. By con-
trast, the Midwest and Far West, even
though they were also agricultural regions,
experienced more rapid development
through a system of family property and
relative equality. In Latin America, agri-
cultural regions, held tightly in a few hands,
are most backward. Thus development
seems to depend on the diffusion of private
property.
Third, when Gutierrez rejects sentimental
appeals to brotherhood, which disguise
class conflict, Ramos appreciates his desire
to abolish the causes of class conflict. But
he finds Gutierrez "ideological and ahistori-
cal" in overlooking "the most significant
economic fact of modem times, namely
that wealth can be created." All economies
prior to the Industrial Revolution were (rela-
tively) static. Under static conditions, the
economic improvement of some is neces-
sarily obtained at the cost of others. For this
reason, "the central concern of static econ-
omies, like the medieval one, has been the
fixing of just prices and salaries." In the early
medieval economy, capital did not produce
new wealth. Thus the taking of interest was
judged to involve the terrible sin of usury,
since through it one took advantage of
those in need. But once capital became
creative and its utility in economic progress
became clear, moral interpretation was ob-
liged to shift its ground. Ramos urges
Gutierrez to shift ground too, by recognizing
that relations of mutual advantage and co-
operation are essential to dynamic econo-
mies, even though relations of conflict
never disappear.
Ramos does not accept the Marxist the-
ory that classes are rooted in the relation to
property. For him the relation to power is
more significant, and assumes different
forms in different times and places. Relative
scarcity yields one common form of eco-
nomic power. Such scarcity may involve
land, water, transport, capital, technology,
knowledge, oil, arms. "It does not suffice to
have property in order to dominate; domi-
nation requires the possession of the critical
form of power in each historical moment."
At different times in history, the military
caste, the clergy, the landlords, the indus-
trialists, the bankers, the politicians, the
technocrats, have been preeminent. There
is not one class struggle but many; and their
root is not property but power. As a result,
class struggle will not disappear with the


48/CArBBEAN EviE


~










abolition of private property. Struggle over
the political allocation of power and goods
is historically one of the most bitter forms of
struggle. Nationalization of ownership al-
ways generates class struggle, to the extent
that the participation of citizens is only a
formality, while decision-making lies in the
hands of the party, the bureaucracy, and the
police. Private property is a device to limit
the power of the State. It undergirds the
principle of subsidiarity, by giving citizens
rights to make decisions about what each
knows best.
Finally, Ramos deplores "the exagger-
ated tendency of Catholic theology to inter-
pret social relations as if they were the same
as interpersonal relations." The error of so-
cialists is to trust the ideals of socialism
while disregarding their structural results.
Gutierrez ends his book with a plea for "a
definitive stand, and without reservations,
on the side of the oppressed classes and
dominated peoples." His good motives are
clear. But the unintended consequences of
his economic theories are not likely to con-
stitute the liberation he desires.
In matters of political economy, much
stands or falls on fact. The liberation the-
ologians widely assert that development
and reform in Latin America are not work-
ing. Not working compared with what? It is
worth pausing to reflect on the facts, first of
success, then of failure.

The Success of Latin America
In 1945, the population of Latin America
was 140 million. Between 1945 and 1960,
the gross national product of Latin America
averaged an annual growth rate of 4.9%.
From 1960 to 1965, the rate was 5.3%; from
1965 to 1970, 5.7%; and from 1970 to
1974, 6.7%. The world recession slowed
growth in Latin America in 1975 (2.7%); in
1976 the rate was back up to 5%.
Thus, for the thirty years from 1945 to
1975, Latin America averaged an annual
growth of 5.2%. Few regions of the world
exhibit such a sustained success. In this
century, the wealth of Latin America has
doubled, and then doubled again, more
than once. Since World War II, manufactur-
ing has grown at a rate of 6.5% each year. In
addition, agricultural output per worker
grew by more than 2% a year; and total
agricultural output by 3.5% each year. Since
population growth averaged 2.7% a year,
agricultural yield has grown faster. This
compared favorably with agricultural out-
put in the United States from the end of the
Civil War until World War I, when agricultural
output grew at 2.1% a year and average
output per worker at 2.5%.
In real terms, wages and salaries in Latin
America have grown since World War II at
an average of 2% a year. This is better than
the United States experienced from 1865 to
1914. Wages and salaries have not grown
as fast, however, as returns on capital. In


WORLDVIEW


SW These are the times that try men's souls.
Clearly, Thomas Paine understood the nature of international affairs-
the ambivalence, ambiguity, confusion. And just as clearly, what was said
of 1776 can be said of 1982. Whether the revolution is in America or
Nicaragua, thinking men and women must strive to evaluate, to under-
stand, and, ultimately, to decide.
But to decide intelligently they must first be informed. Paine had the
Pennsylvania Journal. Today, thousands rely on WORLDVIEW.
Why? Because WORLDVIEW is the only magazine that consistently
examines foreign policy in an ethical perspective; because it looks not
simply at the day's events, but ahead to tomorrow's consequences.
And it offers more. Timely columns, important book reviews, articles by
leaders in government, education, business and religion.
Subscribe now. It's only common sense,








Special half-price offer. A year of
WORLDVIEW for only $8.75! Now,
for a limited time, you can get 12
issues of WORLDVIEW at only half name
the regular subscription price
($21on newsstands). That's just 73c
a month. Send coupon to: street
WORLDVIEW
Subscription Dept., Box Q
170 E. 64th Street, NY, NY 10021 city & state zip
(Outside of U.S. please add $5.00 for postage and handling.)


part this is because large agricultural sec-
tors, with expanding populations, share
slowly in the development of commerce
and industry, which occurs in cities. Rising
returns on capital tend to attract new capital.
While dynamic growth in some sectors
does not automatically flow to other sec-
tors, it does provide new wealth, which
sound political systems may invest in rural
electrification and other advances.
The rates of growth in real wages, in man-
ufacturing, and in agricultural income and
output per worker are all the more remark-
able when one recognizes that during the
same thirty-year period, 1945 to 1975,
Latin America's population grew from 140
million to 324 million. Yet despite Latin
America's immense growth in population,


its per capital income has grown at rates
seldom equaled on so sustained a basis
anywhere in the world. Per capital income in
Latin America in 1976 is estimated to have
been between $750 and $1,000.
In thirty years (1945-1975), infant mor-
tality was reduced from 83 per 1,000 births
to 46 per 1,000. Life expectancy advanced
from approximately forty-two years to sixty-
two years. Despite immense population
growth, illiteracy has been reduced from
50% to 25% (absolute numbers, though,
remain large: about 80 million persons are
illiterate). In 1945, only 55% of primary-
school-age children attended school; the
figure in 1975 was 90%. In high school, the
increase was from 10% to 35%. The per-
centage of those from twenty to twenty-four


CAI?BBEAN re VIW/49










years old attending universities has risen
from 2% to 9%.
Obviously, these figures cry out for im-
provement. Still, what accounts for the sud-
den explosion of growth in 1945, after
centuries of relative stagnation? Foreign aid
and foreign investment cannot account for
it, since together these make up less than
4% of Latin America's annual intemal in-
vestment. Favorable terms of foreign trade
do not account for it, for these terms are less
favorable than in the nineteenth century.
Structural reforms cannot account for it, for
these have been relatively few; there have
been few major land reforms, tax reforms,
or dramatic institutional reforms.
In the opinion of Ramos, the most satis-


MELLON
VISITING PROFESSORSHIP
AND POSTDOCTORAL

FELLOWSHIP ON
LATIN AMERICAN STUDIES
AT THE
UNIVERSITY OF PITTSBURGH


Open to outstanding scholars of all
nationalities with fluency in English and
either Spanish or Portuguese. Emphasis is
on teaching rather than research.

Priority disciplines for 1983-84 are:
(1) economics or business; (2) political risk
analysis; (3) Andean or Brazilian history;
(4) pre-Columbian and contemporary art.
Preference given to suitable applicants in
these fields, but other disciplines of the
social sciences, humanities, and social
professions will be considered.

Visiting Professorship awarded for one
term to senior scholar to teach two
graduate seminars or the equivalent;
Postdoctoral Fellowship awarded for two
terms to junior scholar who has received
the doctoral degree to teach one
undergraduate and one graduate course or
the equivalent.

Deadline for receipt of applications is
November 15, 1982.

For further information and application
forms, write to:
Center for Latin American Studies
University of Pittsburgh
4E04 Forbes Quadrangle
Pittsburgh, PA 15260 USA


factory explanation is that the advantages of
being a "late starter" have finally been
seized. Latin Americans are closing the
technological, organizational, and manage-
ment gaps that once separated them from
the developed world. The power of ideals
and intelligence, learning and application,
is much in evidence. Religion itself is be-
coming more dynamic. There has been a
breakthrough in the ranks of the narrow
elite at the top. It has not yet reached mil-
lions at the bottom, but revolutions in
"human capital" have set a great dynamic in
motion. Whereas, for example, USAID of-
ficers once struck Latin Americans as better
prepared than their local counterparts, to-
day Latin American economists and experi-
enced officials have training and skills
superior to those of the average foreign ad-
viser. Finally, late-starting nations may take
advantage of already developed technolo-
gies and thus devote relatively less capital to
research and development.

The Failure of Latin America
Impressive growth in GNRP in per capital in-
come, in literacy, in education, in health,
and in longevity represent human goods of
great value to Latin America. But such fig-
ures also mask inequality, uneven distribu-
tion, and widespread suffering.
In a paper produced for the Catholic So-
cial Action Center of Latin America in 1978,
economists Sergio Molina and Sebastian
Pifiera calculated that in 1970 about 40% of
all Latin Americans (some 115 million per-
sons) received an income below the poverty
line of approximately $200 per year. Still
lower on the scale of poverty, at the destitu-
tion level, about 19% (some 56 million per-
sons) received less than the $100 per year
required to buy food providing a minimum
level of calories and protein for subsistence.
It is clear that the fruits of spectacular eco-
nomic growth are not reaching all parts of
the population. The 50 million destitute
need urgent care. The total 115 million poor
need rapid improvement of their condition.
Between 1960 and 1970, the percentage of
the poor fell from 51% to 40% and of the
destitute from 26% to 19%. But because of
population growth, absolute figures were
virtually unchanged (down only about 2
million in each category).
What would it take to raise all Latin Amer-
icans above the destitution line? Molina,
Pifiera, and Ramos calculate $100 per year
for 50 million persons, or $5 billion an-
nually. To raise all the destitute and the poor
above the poverty line would require an-
other $11 billion per year. This $16 billion
represents (depending upon its exact cal-
culation) about 5% of Latin American GNR
Asa percentage of government spending in
1970, it would have represented 22%. As
a percentage of the continent's total
disposable income in 1970, it represented
about 6%.


These figures show that Latin America
already has at its disposal sufficient annual
income and gross national product to raise
the level of its 50 million destitute persons
almost immediately. The economic capac-
ity is present. The political will and the eco-
nomic techniques may not yet be present.
Techniques that do not discourage greater
production are indispensable. On the other
hand, the diffusion of purchasing power to
the poorest 25% of the population is in the
interest of domestic manufacturers, farm-
ers, and traders. An additional healthy 50
million persons would provide markets for
goods and promote new forms of eco-
nomic activism. In a dynamic economy, the
economic activities and skills of each per-
son offer mutual advantage to others.
Molina and Pifiera observe that income
differentials among employees explain only
about half the difference in per capital in-
come between poor and non-poor house-
holds. The rest is explained by the fact that
the non-poor tend to have a higher number
of employed adults per household and a
lower number of dependent minors. The
vast majority of heads of households are
employed. A high percentage complains of
underemployment (less than thirty-nine
hours a week) and desires more. Simul-
taneously, many large social tasks remain
unaccomplished. The economic in-
frastructure to support future growth will
require investment and labor to build roads
and bridges, sewage and sanitation facili-
ties, generators and power lines, communi-
cations systems and urban water supplies,
rural irrigation and facilities for transport.
The case of Brazil is often cited. Ramos
points outthat prior to 1964 the nonmilitary
governments in Brazil sustained an average
annual growth rate of 5.5% a year. After the
military coup in 1964, the growth rate
jumped to 9% a year. By 1970, every decile
of the population had benefited in real
terms. Relatively, however, the poorest de-
ciles were receiving a lesser proportion of
national income, the upper deciles a larger
proportion. Between 1970 and 1976, the
relative position as well as the absolute posi-
tion of the poorest deciles improved. Still,
the contrast between the richest and the
poorest is stark. Behind the cold statistics
there are families whose children lack suffi-
cient calories and protein for normal ac-
tivities and normal growth.
Ramos proposes that $5 billion be in-
vested every year for ten years (a total of $50
billion), from funds already internally gener-
ated in Latin America, to improve the lot of
the destitute. The exact schemes he pro-
poses for this ten-year crash program need
not detain us, for they are matters best de-
cided by Latin Americans. The central point
Ramos makes is that of scale. The problem
of reaching the destitute and the poor is not
insuperable.
Resources are available.


50/CArIBBEAN rEview










Labor Surplus...
Continued from page 25


enterprises will present Jamaica with an-
other dilemma. Large amounts of labor will
be absorbed only if wage rates remain low.
And only a large permanent stock of sur-
plus labor can ensure this. In other words,
we have a paradoxical situation in which the
absorption of cheap labor is dependent
upon the existence of a permanent pool of
surplus labor. This is so because every unit
of reduction in surplus labor will increase
wage rates which in turn will encourage the
substitution of subsidized capital equip-
ment for labor. As wage rates increase,
some wage threshold will be reached where
additional private foreign investment will
absorb only those workers whose marginal
productivity equals or exceeds their wage
rate. This means that the character of the
demand for labor will change from cheap
labor to skilled labor. The speed with which
this change occurs depends, among other
factors, upon the climate of industrial rela-
tions. It is not inconceivable that the mili-
tancy of labor unions may enter as a factor
influencing the choice of production tech-
nology by new manufacturing enterprises.
If that critical wage threshold is reached
before the stock of cheap, unskilled, surplus
labor is significantly reduced, then govern-
ment policy must direct its attention to
transforming the surplus labor into skilled
labor. This is easier said than done. Be-
cause most of the surplus labor in the
Caribbean is young-it is by definition un-
skilled. Despite their relatively high rate of
literacy, their local primary and secondary
education does not prepare them for work.
They must rely on the workplace itself to do
that. If there is no workplace, there is no on-
the-job training; if there is no on-the-job
training, workers cannot acquire the neces-
sary skills; and if they do not have the skills,
certain types of capital investment will not
take place.
In a market economy, the creation of
workplaces is largely a function of private
investment which is itself a function of prof-
its, so that the possibilities for on-the-job
training are intertwined with the possibilities
for profit. But because the workplace is re-
ally an extension of the vocational educa-
tion system in the Caribbean, its creation
should not be dictated by expectations of
private profit alone. It should be consciously
shaped by public policy and, where neces-
sary, public investment
The transformation of surplus labor into
skilled labor is essential for the functioning
of an indigenous engine of growth. But this
problem is complicated by the high pro-
pensity of Jamaicans to emigrate. The fig-
ures show that professional and technical
workers as well as those classified as factory


operatives emigrated to North America in
great numbers during the 1960s and
1970s. All took with them varying amounts
of local investment embodied in their edu-
cation and training. A small country cannot
build up an indigenous engine of growth on
imported foreign capital if it simultaneously
exports its own human capital. Such an ex-
change is more likely to strengthen the ex-
ternal engine in the long run, since the
return flow of profits and interest payments
on imported capital is never offset by the
remittances received from equivalent
human capital exports. The persistence of


How rapidly the Caribbean
economy absorbs its
surplus over the next two
decades depends on its
success in generating
locally-rooted economic
impulses to create
employment.



this adverse balance of payments on
human and financial capital flows lays the
foundation for a treadmill rather than for an
engine.
The fundamental challenge facing Carib-
bean economies is the absorption of the
growing pool of surplus labor into produc-
tive activity. Traditionally, domestic employ-


ment growth has been largely influenced by
foreign demand for Caribbean exports and
to a lesser extent by foreign investment in
the Caribbean. But over the past decade,
the growth of exports and the inflow of for-
eign capital have slowed considerably. One
is left to conclude, therefore, that the extent
to which the Caribbean can absorb its sur-
plus labor is limited by its excessive depen-
dence on an external engine. While that will
always be important, the need for an indige-
nous engine that can expand exports when
the external engine slows down is urgent
Needless to say, this requires the full sup-
port of public policy. Not only must govern-
ment provide the right kind of environment
in which small efficient firms can develop
and establish a network of backward and
forward linkages with larger firms, it must
also actively support innovative export pro-
motion strategies.
One of the most frequently cited obsta-
cles to Caribbean industrial development
has been the small size of the Caribbean
market If the US Congress ultimately de-
clares the American market wide open to
Caribbean exports, as is proposed in the
Caribbean Basin Initiative, then the poten-
tial market for Caribbean exports would
transcend the traditional limitations of small
size. But the removal of market size limita-
tion by legislation unmasks other limita-
tions which are essentially rooted in the
underdevelopment of the region. Chief
among these is the deficiency in the level
and diversity of its human capital stock
needed to build and operate the indigenous
engine. Only when this engine is on track
can the Caribbean fully exploit the oppor-
tunities a larger market would provide. a


CAIBBEAN PKIEW/51


Review
Latin American Literature and Arts

Subscribe Now!
Individual Subscription $10.00 Foreign $12.00
U.S. Institution $15.00 Foreign Institution $20.00
Published three times a year. Back issues available.


NAME

ADDRESS


A publication of the Center for Inter-American Relations
680 Park Avenue, New York, New York 10021











Nicaragua...
Continued from page 35




successful during the Cold War, was of little
use in the era of detente with a US admin-
istration which recognized the anti-com-
munist argument as a mere justification to
maintain power. The anti-Somoza bour-
geoisie, on the other hand, tried to build
itself up as a non-revolutionary alternative
to Somoza's regime, but without proposing
a complete dismembering of his regime,
particularly with regard to keeping a purged
National Guard.
The alliance which the anti-Somoza
bourgeoisie tried to forge with the US Em-
bassy had to compete with the revolution-
ary struggle of the FSLN. Especially after
1977, the participation of the masses in the
sandinista struggle grew. The growth of
internal support for the FSLN combined
with the support it obtained from friendly
governments, especially Panama and
Costa Rica. The palace politics of the bour-
geoisie could never triumph over the FSLN
politics of the masses, which combined in-
surrection, grass roots organization, rural
guerrilla warfare, conventional military
combat, international diplomacy, and
opening itself to all forces opposed to
Somoza. The democratic Nicaraguan bour-
geoisie, a recently evolved class, could not
present itself as a real alternative to the
FSLN's peasants, workers, students, un-
employed, i.e., the majority of the people.
The bourgeoisie recognized its own de-
feat only at the last moment. The Frente
Amplio Opositor (FAO) threw its support


to the sandinista-inspired Junta de
Gobierno de Reconstrucci6n Nacional
(JGRN) only on June 24, 1979, as did the
Consejo Superior de la Empresa Pri-
vada (COSEP) shortly thereafter. These
actions, when the Somoza regime was al-
most dead, allowed these sectors to join,
along with the victors, in the new era which
opened on July 19, 1979. They joined not
as a hegemonic force or direction, but as a
subordinate element of a national
movement.
Lulled by the fantasy of North American
omnipotence, mortgaged to politics of the
antechamber and the bedroom, of mur-
murings and insinuations, accustomed to
considering politics as foreign to their class,
only susceptible to isolated and sporadic
pressures, without a national plan, the
wealthy classes were not equipped to un-
derstand that for most of the population
more than the name or face of the govem-
ment was at stake. When they at last com-
prehended, their own subordination to the
Somoza regime left them without room for
action.
A third aspect which the Diederich book
underscores is the role played by the FSLN
as a catalyst. The FSLN substituted
Somoza vs. sandinista for Somoza vs.
anti-Somoza. In so doing they gathered be-
hind themselves all forms of anti-Somoza
expression, from those who merely wanted
to rid themselves of the dictator to those
who saw the exit of Somoza as one chapter
in a larger more profound process. But the
structure ofthe fight against Somoza deter-
mined that the defeat of the dictator also
meant defeat of the attempt to create and
sustain any other option. With "anti-imperi-
alism" as a battleflag, with its autonomy
intact despite negotiations between the


middle class and the US, the FSLN was
able to present itself as the voice of the
Nicaraguan nation.
The Diederich book is therefore an excel-
lent source of relevant information for un-
derstanding and interpreting the struggle
which brought the FSLN to power, and for
the understanding of some of the more im-
portant aspects of the present situation: the
relations of the FSLN with the local bour-
geoisie and with the US, the cooperation
offered and given by social democracy in
Europe and by various socialist nations,
and the present crisis in Central America.
At present relations between revolution-
ary Nicaragua and the Reagan administra-
tion are passing through a difficultjuncture,
to say the least. One notes from the
Diederich book that it is necessary to com-
prehend that anti-imperialism is a constant
in Nicaragua's history, because military, po-
litical, economic, and commercial external
aggression have likewise been historical
constants. Since Walker's adventure in the
last century, the military training of the Na-
tional Guard until the last moments of Ana-
stasio Somoza Debayle's regime, the
violations of Nicaragua's national sov-
ereignty, the repression of public protest,
the enriching of those in power have all
been closely associated with the US par-
ticipation in Nicaraguan life. Is it any sur-
prise, then, that the State Department, the
Defense Department, and the White House
should be held in such low esteem by the
sandinista revolution? Can anyone be truly
surprised when Nicaragua looks for an-
other source of aid to create a new army? Or
should we be surprised that the FSLN an-
them refers to the "yankee enemy of hu-
manity?" In politics, as in agriculture, you
reap what you sow.


52/CAlBBEAN IFVIEW













Recent Books

An informative listing of books about the Caribbean,
Latin America, and their emigrant groups





By Marian Goslinga


Anthropology and Sociology

ARTISTS CONTEMPORANEOS EN
AMERICA LATINA. Damian Bay6n.
Ediciones del Serbal (Barcelona, Spain),
1981. 124 p. $20.50.

CIVILIZATION AND THE STOLEN GIFT
CAPITAL, KIN, AND CULT IN EASTERN
PERU. Jacques Chevalier. University of
Toronto Press, 1982. 264 p. $25.00.

COMO FUE LA INMIGRACION IRLANDESA
EN LA ARGENTINA. Juan Carlos Korol,
Hilda SAbato. Plus Ultra (Buenos Aires,
Argentina), 1981. 213 p. $6.00.

CONCEPTUALIZACION Y REGIONAUZACION
EN LOS ANDES. Nicole Bemex de Falen,
Hildegardo C6rdova, Adriana Flores de
Saco. Pontificia Universidad Cat6lica del
Peru, 1981.

THE COSMIC ZYGOTE: COSMOLOGY IN
THE AMAZON BASIN. Peter G. Roe.
Rutgers University Press, 1982. 451 p.
$35.00.

CULTURAL E OPULENCIA NO BRASIL Andre
Joao AntoniL New ed. Itatiaia (Belo
Horizonte, Brazil), 1982. 240 p. $10.00.

DIGESTO LEGISLATIVE DE LA FORMACION
PROFESSIONAL EN AMERICA LATINA Y EL
CARIBE. H. H. Barbagelata. Centro
Interamericano de Investigaci6n y
Documentaci6n sobre Forrnaci6n
Professional. CINTERFOR (Montevideo,
Uruguay), 1981. 5 v $50.00.

EAST INDIANS IN THE CARIBBEAN:
COLONIALISM AND THE STRUGGLE
FOR IDENTITY. Bridget Brereton, Winston
Dookeran, eds. Kraus International, 1981.
186 p. $30.00. Papers presented at a
conference held in 1975 at the University of
the West Indies.

ECOLOGIA Y AMBIENTE EN VENEZUELA
J. B. Le6n. Editorial Ariel (Barcelona,
Spain), 1981. 258 p.

LA EDUCATION EN AMERICA LATINA Y EL
CARIBE EN EL ULTIMO TERCIO DEL
SIGLO XX. Jos6 Blat Gimeno, ed. Unesco,
1981. 210 p. Papers presented at a
conference held in 1979 in Mexico City.


O ENSINO SUPERIOR NO BRASIL-
A ESTRUTURA DE PODER NA
UNIVERSIDADE EM QUESTAO. Maria
Stela Santos Graciani. Vozes (Petr6polis,
Brazil), 1982. 166 p. $6.00.

ESCLAVOS REBELDES: CONSPIRACIONES Y
SUBLEVACIONES DE ESCLAVOS EN
PUERTO RICO, 1795-1873. Guillermo A.
Baralt. Ediciones Huracan (Rio Piedras,
Puerto Rico), 1982. 183 p.

ETNOHISTORIA Y ANTROPOLOGIA ANDINA.
Amalia Castelli, et al. El Virrey (Lima, Peru),
1981. 310 p. $9.00.
FOLK LITERATURE OF THE MATACO
INDIANS. Johannes Wilbert, Karin
Simoneau, eds. Latin American Center,
University of California (Los Angeles), 1982.

FROM PALE TO PAMPA: THE JEWISH
IMMIGRANT EXPERIENCE IN BUENOS
AIRES. Eugene E Sofer. Holmes & Meier,
1982. $24.00.

A HOUSE OF MY OWN: SOCIAL
ORGANIZATION IN THE SQUATTER
SETTLEMENTS OF LIMA, PERU. Susan
Lobo. University of Arizona Press, 1982.
208 p. $18.50; $7.95 paper.

INTRODUCTION A LAS CIENCIAS SOCIALES.
Pedro J. Rua, ed. Ediciones Huracan (Rio
Pedras, Puerto Rico), 1982. $7.50. Social
conditions in Puerto Rico.
PATRIARCAS DE LA PLATA: ESTRUCTURA
SOCIOECONOMICA DE LA MINERIA
BOLIVIANA EN EL SIGLO XIX. Antonio
Mitre. Heraclio Bonilla, ed. El Virrey (Lima,
Peru), 1981. 229 p. $6.00.

EL PENSAMIENTO NAHUATL CIFRADO POR
LOS CALENDARIOS. Laurette Sejoume.
Siglo XXI (Mexico), 1981. 407 p. $36.60.


THE PEOPLE OF THE COLCA VALLEY: A
POPULATION STUDY. Noble D. Cook.
Westview Press, 1982. 98 p. $15.00.

PROCESS IDEOLOGICO EN LA IGLESIA
LATINOAMERICANA. Anibal E. Fosbery.
Astrea (Buenos Aires, Argentina), 1981.
$25.000 (pesos).

PROFETAS, TERRA Y CAPITAUSMO: IGLESIA
Y CAMPESINADO EN AMERICA LATINA.
Centro de Investigaci6n y Educaci6n
Popular. CINEP (Bogota, Colombia), 1981.
197 p. $12.00.

PUEBLA. Equipo Seladoc. Sigueme
(Salamanca, Spain), 1981. 544 p.

RAINFOREST CORRIDORS: THE
TRANSAMAZON COLONIZATION
SCHEME. Nigel J. Smith. University of
California Press, 1982. 200 p. $22.50.
SE ACABA LA FAMILIAR: INVESTIGATION
SOBRE LA SOCIEDAD COLOMBIAN
Gloria Pacho de Galen. Editorial Pluma
(Bogota, Colombia), 1981. 336 p. $18.00.

SECTOS EN AMERICA LATINA. Consejo
Episcopal Latinoamericano. CELAM
(Bogota, Colombia), 1982. 300 p.

SERVICE SOCIAL E SOCIEDADE
BRASILEIRA. Maria Helena de Almeida
Lima. Cortez (Sio Paulo, Brazil), 1982.
144 p. $5.50.

A SOCIO-HISTORICAL ANALYSIS OF THE
EMANCIPATION OF 1848 AND THE
LABOR REVOLT OF 1878 IN THE DANISH
WEST INDIES. Clifton E. Marsh. Caribbean
Research Institute, College of the Virgin
Islands (St Croix), 1981. $7.00.

LA TRADITION HUMANISTICA. Pedro Grases.
Seix Barral (Barcelona, Spain), 1981.
728 p.

DIE ZWEITE BEFREIUNG:
APHABETSERUNG IN NICARAGUA. Lore
Schultz-Wild. R Hammer Verlag (Wuppertal,
W. Germany), 1981. 208 p. $12.50. About
Nicaragua's literacy campaign.

Biography

ALVEAR, F6lix Luna. Belgrano (Buenos Aires,
Argentina), 1982. 352 p. $9.90.


CAIBBEAN PeVI~W/53










ARGENTINE DICTATOR JUAN MANUEL DE
ROSAS, 1829-1852. John Lynch. Oxford
University Press, 1981. 414 p.

EPISTOLARIO DE CECILO ACOSTA CON
MIGUEL ANTONIO CARO, RUFINO JOSE
CUERVO Y OTROS COLOMBIANOS. Mario
Germ6n Romero, ed. Impr. Patri6tica del
Institute Caro y Cuervo (Bogota, Colombia),
1981. 289 p.
STUDIOS SOBRE ANDRES BELLO. Pedro
Grases. Seix Barral (Barcelona, Spain),
1981. 2 v.

FRIDA: A BIOGRAPHY OF FRIDA KAHLO.
Hayden Herrera. Harper & Row, 1982.
256 p. $19.18.

GEOGRAPHICAL CONCEPTIONS OF
COLUMBUS: A CRITICAL
CONSIDERATION OF FOUR PROBLEMS.
George E. Num. Irvington, 1982. $10.50.
Reprint of the 1924 ed.

JOAQUIM NABUCO: POLITICAL. Paula
Beiguelman, Florestan Femandes, eds.
Atica (Sio Paulo, Brazil), 1982. 192 p.
$7.00.

MEXICAN POLITICAL BIOGRAPHIES,
1935-1980. Roderic A. Camp. 2d, rev., ed.
University of Arizona Press, 1982.

EL PENSAMIENTO VIVO DEL GENERAL SAN
MARTIN. Arturo Capdevila. New ed. Losada
(Buenos Aires, Argentina), 1982. 150 p.
$3.50.

PERUANOS DEL SIGLO XX. Jorge Basadre.
Ediciones Rickchay (Lima, Peru), 1981.
171 p.

Description and Travel
THE AMAZON FOREST AND RIVER. Chillean
T Prance, Anne E. Prance. Barron's
Educational Series, 1982. $14.95.

THE COMPLETE VISITOR'S GUIDE TO
MESOAMERICAN RUINS. Joyce Kelly.
University of Oklahoma Press, 1982. 527 p.
$35.00.

A CRUISING GUIDE TO THE CARIBBEAN
AND THE BAHAMAS, INCLUDING THE
NORTH COAST OF SOUTH AMERICA,
CENTRAL AMERICA AND YUCATAN,
1981-1982. Jerrems C. Hart, William T
Stone. Rev. ed. Dodd, Mead & Co., 1982.
600 p. $25.00.

A FIELD GUIDE TO CORAL REEFS OF
FLORIDA AND THE CARIBBEAN. Eugene
H. Kaplan. Houghton Mifflin, 1982. 384 p.
$17.95.

GUIA DE TURISMO Y AVENTURAS DE LA
ARGENTINA DESCONOCIDA,
ARQUEOLOGICA Y MISTERIOSA.
Federico B. Kirbus. Impr. Egisa (Buenos
Aires, Argentina), 1982. 127 p.$5.80.

LA PAZ: UNA CIUDAD INDOMITA. Mariano
Baptista Gumucio. Biblioteca Popular
Boliviana de "Ultima Hora" (La Paz, Bolivia),
1981. 107 p. $4.95.


SOUTH AMERICA: RIVER TRIPS. Tanis Jordan,
Martin Jordan. Bradt Enterprises, 1982. 2 v.

VICTORIAN FREDERIKSTED: DETAILS OF
19TH CENTURY CARIBBEAN
ARCHITECTURE OF FREDERIKSTED, ST
CROIX, U.S. VIRGIN ISLANDS. Susan
Brown. St Croix Landmarks Society (U.S.
Virgin Islands), 1981. 122 p. $10.00.

Economics

AMARGO CAFE: LOS PEQUEIOS Y
MEDIANOS CAFICULTORES DE UTUADO
EN LA SEGUNDA MITAD DEL SIGLO XIX.
Femando Pic6. Ediciones HuracBn (Rio
Piedras, Puerto Rico), 1981. 162 p. $4.50.
About Puerto Rico.


COLOMBIA EN LA ECONOMIC MUNDIAL.
Hector Charry Samper,et al. C. Valencia
Editores (Bogota, Colombia), 1982. 288 p.
$20.00.
LE COMMERCE DU CAFE EN HAITI:
HABITANTS, SPECULATEURS ET
EXPORTATEURS. C. A. Girault. C.N.R.S.
(Paris, France), 1981. 296 p. 140E

LE COMMERCE ENTIRE LA NOUVELLE
FRANCE ET LES ANTILLES AU XVille
SIECLE. Jacques Mathieu. Fides (Montreal,
Canada), 1981. 276 p. 102E

0 DESENVOLVIMENTO ECONOMIC
BRASILEIRO. Argemiro Brum. Vozes
(Petr6polis, Brazil), 1982. 222 p. $8.00.

DEVELOPMENT OF THE MEXICAN
WORKING CLASS NORTH OF THE RIO
BRAVO: WORK AND CULTURE AMONG
LABORERS AND ARTISANS, 1600-1900.
Juan G6mez-Quifiones. Chicano Studies
Research Center, University of Califomia
(Los Angeles), 1982.

LA ECONOMIC COLOMBIANA, 1971-1981.
Emesto Parra Escobar. Centro de
Investigaci6n y Educaci6n Popular, CINEP
(Bogota, Colombia), 1982. 102 p. $8.00.

LA ECONOMIC DEL INTERIOR EN LA
PRIMERA MITAD DEL SIGLO XIX. Carlos
Segreti. Academia Nacional de la Historia
(Buenos Aires, Argentina), 1981. 208 p.
$2.00. About Argentina.

ENERGY AND DEVELOPMENT IN LATIN
AMERICA: PERSPECTIVES FOR PUBLIC
POLICY. Nazli Choucri. Lexington Books,
1982.


DE EXPORT VAN CURACAOSE SLAVEN,
1819-1847. W E. Renkema. Van Gorcum
(Assen, Netherlands), 1981. About the
export of Curacaoan slaves.

FARM AND FACTORY: THE JESUITS AND
THE DEVELOPMENT OF AGRARIAN
CAPITALISM IN COLONIAL QUITO.
Nicholas R Cushner. State University of New
York Press, 1982. 274 p. $42.50; $13.95
paper.

EL INTERCAMBIO COMMERCIAL ENTIRE
COLOMBIA Y VENEZUELA Isidro Parra
Peiia. A. Pineda Editores (Bogota,
Colombia), 1982. 306 p. $35.00.

INTERNATIONAL COMMODITY TRADE AND
LATIN AMERICAN-EUROPEAN COMMON
MARKET RELATIONS. C. W M. den Boer,
L F Hagedoom, J. H. Stroom, eds. Centro
de Estudios y Documentaci6n
Latinoamericanos, CEDLA (Amsterdam,
Netherlands), 1982.

LATIN AMERICA IN THE WORLD ECONOMY.
Diana Tussle, ed. Nichols Pub. Co., 1982.
300 p. $40.00.

MUJER Y CAPITAUSMO AGRARIO: STUDIO
DE CUATRO REGIONS COLOMBIANAS.
Magdalena Le6n de Leal. Asociaci6n
Colombiana para el Estudio de la
Poblaci6n, ACEP (Bogota, Colombia),
1981. 295 p. $25.00.

THE NEWER CARIBBEAN: STUDIES IN
NATIONAL DEVELOPMENT Paget Henry,
Carl Stone, eds. Institute for the Study of
Human Issues, 1982. 300 p. $24.00.

THE NITRATE INDUSTRY AND CHILE'S
CRUCIAL TRANSITION. Thomas E O'Brien.
New York University Press, 1982. 232 p.

PERU, 1968-1977: LA POUTICA ECONOMIC
EN UN PROCESS DE CAMBIO GLOBAL
Anibal Pinto, Hector Assael. United Nations
Economic Commission for Latin America,
1981. 166 p.

A PRIMITIVE MEXICAN ECONOMY. George M.
Foster. Greenwood Press, 1982. 115 p.
$22.50. Reprint of the 1966 ed.

PUBLIC FINANCE AND ECONOMIC
DEVELOPMENT: SPOTLIGHT ON
JAMAICA. Hugh N. Dawes. University Press
of America, 1982. 162 p. $19.75; $9.50
paper.

PUBLIC MANAGEMENT THE EASTERN
CARIBBEAN EXPERIENCE. Jamal Khan.
Dept of Caribbean Studies, Royal Institute
of Linguistics and Anthropology (Leiden,
Netherlands), 1982.

REVOLUTIONARY CUBA: ECONOMIC
GROWTH, INCOME DISTRIBUTION, AND
BASIC NEEDS. Claes Brundenius.
Westview Press, 1982. 160 p. $21.00.


54/CAIBBEAN REVIEW










SURNAME: ONTWIKKELNGSHULP EN
DEMOCRATIC, EEN
STANDPUNTBEPALING BETREFFENDE
HET NEDERLANDSE BELEID TEN
AANZIEN VAN SURNAME. M. van
Schaaijk. Stichting ter Bevordering van de
Studie van de Surinaamse Economie (The
Hague, Netherlands), 1981. Economic
assistance and democracy in Surinam.

EL ZARPAZO DEL SIGLO: EL GRUPO
GRANCOLOMBIANO SE GANA $1.800
MILLONES CON FONDOS DE
INVERSION. Julio Silva Colmenares, et al.
Editorial Surambrica (Bogota, Colombia),
1982. 102 p. $4.00.

History and Archaeology

BLACK EDUCATION IN THE DANISH WEST
INDIES FROM 1732 TO 1853. Eva
Lawaetz. St Croix Friends of Denmark
Society (U.S. Virgin Islands), 1981. 90 p.
$9.50.

BRASIL: DO "MILAGRE" A "ABERTURA."
Paulo J. Krischke, ed. Cortez (Sio Paulo,
Brazil), 1982. 250 p. $9.00.

CAPITULOS DE HISTORIC COLONIAL,
1500-1800. Joao Capistrano de Abreu.
New ed. Universidad Nacional do Brasil,
1982. 338 p. $10.00. About Brazil.

EL CASO DEL CANAL BEAGLE: PROCESS
HISTORIC JURIDICO. Hemando Holguin
Peliez. Editorial Bloque Andino (Bogota,
Colombia), 1982. 245 p. $15.00.

CATASTROPHE A LA MARTINIQUE. Philippe
AriBs, Charles Daney, Emile Berth. Herscher
(Paris, France), 1981. 136 p. 151.40E

CHILOE ET SA REGION: PATAGONIE NORD-
OCCIDENTALE, ETUDE DE
GEOGRAPHIC HUMAINE. Philippe Grenier.
Edisud (Aix-en-Provence, France), 1982.
500 p. $38.00. History of the Chilotean
people of Patagonia.

COLONIAL WORLD. C. Bannon. Forum Press
(St Louis, Mo.), 1982. $5.75.

CUBA: A HANDBOOK OF HISTORICAL
STATISTICS. Susan Schroeder. G. K. Hall,
1982. $85.00.

THE FLORENTINE CODEX: GENERAL
HISTORY OF THE THINGS OF NEW
SPAIN. Arthur J. Anderson, Charles E.
Dibble. University of Utah Press, 1982.
$35.00.

GUERRA Y FINANZAS EN LOS ORIGENES
DEL ESTADO ARGENTINO, 1791-1850.
Tulio Halperin Donghi. Belgrano (Buenos
Aires, Argentina), 1982. 275 p. $10.55.

HISTORIC DA CIVILIZACAO BRASILEIRA.
Therezinha de Castro. Rev. ed. Capemi (Rio
de Janeiro, Brazil), 1982. 498 p. $12.00.

HISTORY OF THE WEST INDIES. Thomas
Coke. Irvington Books, 1982. 3 v. $49.00.
Reprint of the 1811 ed.


THE JEWISH NATION IN SURINAM:
HISTORICAL ESSAYS. R. Cohen, ed. S.
Emmering (Amsterdam, Netherlands),
1982. 120 p. Dfl.65.

LA LLAVE DE LAS INDIAS. Nicolas del Castillo
Mathieu. Ediciones El Tiempo (BogotA,
Colombia), 1982. 382 p. $16.00.


LOST EMPIRES, LIVING TRIBES. Ross S.
Bennett, ed. National Geographic Society,
1982. 402 p. $19.95.


MALVINAS: CRONOLOGIA DE UN DESPOJO.
Jose A Landiero. Adrogue (Buenos Aires,
Argentina), 1982. 63 p. $3.00.


A' MARINHA DO BRASIL NA SEGUNDA
GUERRA MUNDIAL Arthur Oscar Saldanha
da Gama. Capemi (Rio de Janeiro, Brazil),
1982. 294 p. $10.00.

MEXICO. James Cockroft Monthly Review
Press, 1982. $24.00.

MEXICO: FROM INDEPENDENCE TO
REVOLUTION, 1810-1910. W. Dirk Raat,
ed. University of Nebraska Press, 1982.

ORIGEN DE LOS INDIOS DEL NUEVO
MUNDO. Gregorio Garcia. Fondo de
Cultura Econ6mica (Mexico), 1981. 419 p.
$25.00.

ORIGINS OF PRE-COLUMBIAN ART. Terence
Grieder. University of Texas Press, 1982.
248 p. $19.95.

PANORAMA DE LA ARQUEOLOGIA ANDINA.
Rogger Ravines. El Virrey (Lima, Peru),
1982. 336 p. $10.00.

PASAJEROS DE INDIAS: SIGLOS XVI Y XVII.
Ministerio de Cultura (Spain), 1981. 2 v.
1.220 pts.

PEOPLING OF THE NEW WORLD. Jonathan
E. Ericson, R. E. Taylor, R. Ber, eds.
Ballena Press, 1982. 364 p. $19.95.

PRE-COLUMBIAN ART OF COSTA RICA:
BETWEEN CONTINENTS, BETWEEN
SEAS. Abrams, 1982.240 p. $35.00.

PRECIOUS STONES OF THE JEWS OF
CURACAO: CURACAOAN JEWRY
1656-1957. Isaac S. Emmanuel. S.
Emmering (Amsterdam, Netherlands),
1981. Dfl.250. Reprint of the 1957 ed.


LOS QUIMBAYAS BAJO LA DOMINACION
ESPAIlOLA. Juan Friede. New ed.
C. Valencia Editores (BogotA, Colombia),
1982. 294 p. $10.00.

RECHT COMMERCE EN KOLONIALISME IN
WEST-INDIE: VANAF DE ZESTIENDE
EEUW TOT IN DE NEGENTIENDE EEUW.
A. J. M. Kunst De Walburg Pers (Zutphen,
Netherlands), 1981. Law, commerce, and
colonialism in the West Indies, 1500-1800.

SANDINO ET LA GUERILLA AU NICARAGUA.
Comit6 de Solidaritd avec le Nicaragua, le
Salvador et I'Am6rique Centrale de Lyon. Le
Comit6 (Lyon, France), 1981. 92 p. 29.12E

A SHORT HISTORY OF MEXICO. Selden
Rodman. Stein & Day, 1982. 264 p. $14.95.

Language and Literature

LA ANGUSTIA VITAL DEL
PUERTORRIQUENO EN LA OBRA DE
RENE MARQUES. Isabel Velez Villanueva.
Universidad Complutense (Madrid, Spain),
1981. 569 p.

CHRONICLE OF A DEATH FORETOLD.
Gabriel Garcia-Marquez. Harper & Row,
1982. 128 p. $10.50.

EVOLUCION DE LA LRICA EN COLOMBIA
EN EL SIGLO XIX. Femando de la Vega.
Institute Caro y Cuervo (BogotA, Colombia),
1981. 172 p. $5.00.

LA LITERATURE HISPANOAMERICANA
ANTERIOR AL SIGLO XX. Juan Jose
Amate Blanco. Cincel (Madrid, Spain),
1981. 188 p.

LITERATURE AND POLITICS IN LATIN
AMERICA: AN ANNOTATED CALENDAR
OF THE LUIS ALBERTO SANCHEZ
CORRESPONDENCE, 1919-1980. Donald
C. Henderson, Grace R. Pirez, eds.
Pennsylvania State University Libraries,
1982.

LOS MEJORES CUENTOS BOLIVIANOS DEL
SIGLO XX. Ricardo Pastor Poppe, ed.
Editorial Los Amigos del Libro (La Paz,
Bolivia), 1981. 358 p. $12.95.

LA NOVELA HISPANOAMERICANA DEL
SIGLO XX. Marina GAlvez Acero. Cincel
(Madrid, Spain), 1981. 96 p.

O TRABALHO E A FALA. ESTUDO
ANTROPOLOGICO SOBRE OS
FOLHETOS DE CORDEL Antonio
Augusto Arantes. Kair6s (Sio Paulo, Brazil),
1982. 192 p. $5.00.

WINGS OVER JAMAICA: A NARRATIVE
NOVEL Zelma E. Duckett. Vantage Press,
1982. $7.95.

Politics and Government

BARBAROUS MEXICO. John Kenneth Turner.
University of Texas Press, 1982. 354 p.
$8.95. Reprint of the 1910 ed.


CARBBEAN EVIEW/55











CAMBIO, CAMBIO: PLANES Y PROPUESTAS
DEL MOVIMIENTO NATIONAL. Belisario
Betancur. Ediciones Tercer Mundo (Bogota,
Colombia), 1981. 267 p. $12.00. By the
new president.

CENTROAMERICA LFRENTE ROJO? Esmelin
Lugo. Armitano Editor (Caracas,
Venezuela), 1982. 379 p. Bs.50. Mostly
about Nicaragua.

CIENTO TREINTA ARTICULOS Y UNA SOLA
IDEA SOBRE EL APRA. VictorRaul Haya
de la Torre. Wilbert Bendezu Carpio, ed. El
Virrey (Lima, Peru), 1981. 544 p. $15.00.

COLOSSUS CHALLENGED: THE STRUGGLE
FOR CARIBBEAN INFLUENCE. Michael
Erisman, John D. Martz. Westview Press,
1982. 175 p. $20.00.

LA COMMUNAUTE EUROPEENNE ET
I'AMERIQUE LATINE. Institute d'Etudes
Europ6ennes de I'Universite Libre de
Bruxelles. University de Bruxelles
(Belgium), 1981. 234 p. 95.40E
Proceedings of a conference held May
9-10, 1980 in Brussel, organized by the
IEE, the Centre d'Etudes de 1'Am6rique
Latine de I'Institut de Sociologie, and the
Vrije Universiteit, Brussel.

ETAT ET SOCIETY EN AMERIQUE LATINE.
Marcos Alvarez Garcia, Antonio Jos6
Martins, eds. University de Bruxelles
(Belgium), 1981. 502 p. 80.30E

GOBIERNO Y SOCIEDAD EN EL PERU
COLONIAL: EL REGIMEN DE LAS
INTENDENCIAS, 1784-1814. J. R. Fisher.
Pontificia Universidad Cat61ica del Perd,
1981.

LOPEZ CONTRERAS: DE LA TIRANIA A LA
LIBERTAD. Sanin. Editorial Ateneo de
Caracas (Venezuela), 1982. 429 p. Bs.60.

MARTINEZ DE HOZ EN LONDRES. Osiris
Troiani. El Cid (Buenos Aires, Argentina),
1982. 111 p. $5.00. About the Falkland
Islands.

MEXICO TODAY Tommie Sue Montgomery,
ed. Institute for the Study of Human Issues,
ISHI, 1982. 157 p. $12.50; $7.50 paper.

LE NICARAGUA: LE MODELE SANDINISTE.
Jean Michel Caroit, VWronique Soule. Le
Sycamore (Paris, France), 1981. 222 p.
$20.00.

NICARAGUA: THE SANDINISTA
REVOLUTION. Henri Weber. Schocken
Books, 1982. 144 p. $15.95; $5.95 paper.

NUEVA COLOMBIA, Luis Carlos
Galan.Coeditores (Bogota, Colombia),
1982. 184 p. $10.00. By the presidential
candidate.

EL PAIS DISUELTO: EL ESTALLIDO DE 1820
Y LOS ESFUERZOS ORGANIZATIVOS.
Carlos A. Segreti. Belgrano (Buenos Aires,
Argentina), 1982. 396 p. $12.90. About
Argentina.


EL PAIS NATIONAL: FRENTE A LA
SOLUTION DEL PARTIDO. Pedro Cadena
Copete. Ediciones Tercer Mundo (Bogota,
Colombia), 1982. 197 p. $9.00. About
Colombia.

EL PODER MILITARY EN COLOMBIA: DE LA
COLONIA AL FRENTE NATIONAL
Gonzalo Bermldez Rossi. Ediciones
Expresi6n (Bogota, Colombia), 1982. 331
p. $24.00.

POLITICAL CRIMINAL LATINOAMERICANA:
PERSPECTIVAS. Eugenio Raul Zaffaroni.
Hammurabi (Buenos Aires, Argentina),
1982. 172 p. $15.00.


POST-REVOLUTIONARY PERU: THE
POLITICS OF TRANSFORMATION.
Stephen M. Gorman, ed. Westview Press,
1982. 240 p. $25.00; $12.00 paper.

UNA PROPUESTA SOCIAL DEMOCRAT.
Hector Villalon. El Cid Editor (Buenos Aires,
Argentina), 1982. 212 p. $8.90. About
Argentina.

,QUE PASO EL 9 DE ABRIL? ITINERARIO DE
UNA REVOLUTION FRUSTRADA. Eduardo
Santa. Ediciones Tercer Mundo (Bogota,
Colombia), 1982. 230 p. $10.00.

LA REPORMA CONSTITUTIONAL DE 1936.
Alvaro Tirado Mejia, Magdala Velasquez.
Editorial La Oveja Negra (Bogota,
Colombia), 1982. 361 p. $15.00. About
Colombia.

REPRESSAO JUDICIAL NO ESTADO NOVO:
ESQUERDA E DIREITA NO BANCO DOS
REUS. Reynaldo Pompeu de Campos.
Achiame (Rio de Janeiro, Brazil), 1982.
180 p. $8.00.

REVOLUTION IN EL SALVADOR: ORIGINS
AND EVOLUTION. Tommie Sue
Montgomery. Westview Press, 1982. 128 p.
$16.50; $10.95 paper.

EL SALVADOR: BACKGROUND TO THE
CRISIS. Central American Information
Office. CAMINO, 1982. 148 p.

EL SALVADOR: THE FACE OF REVOLUTION.
Robert Armstrong, Janet Shenk. South End
Press (Boston, Mass.), 1982. 260 p. $20.00;
$7.50 paper.

SANTA ANNA'S CAMPAIGN AGAINST TEXAS,
1835-1836. Richard G. Santos, 2d, rev, ed.
Documentary Publications (Salisbury, N.C.),
1982. 171 p. $24.95.


EL SAQUEO DE NICARAGUA. Rafael de
Nogales M6ndez. Ediciones Centauro
(Caracas, Venezuela), 1981. 360 p. $12.50.

UN SIGLO DE POLITICAL COSTARRICENSE.
Eduardo Oconitrillo. Editorial Costa Rica
(San Jos6), 1981. 271 p. $15.00.

A SOMBRA DO SISTEMA. Thomas Coelho.
Paz e Terra (Rio de Janeiro, Brazil), 1982.
164 p. Brazilian politics between Castelo
Branco and'Geisel.

EL TABANO Y LA EMJALMA: SELECTION DE
CRITICS Y DOCUMENTS. Bertha
Hemandez de Ospina. Editorial El Globo
(Bogota, Colombia), 1982. 375 p. $8.00.
Critique of the L6pez Michelsen regime in
Colombia.

LA VIOLENCIA: APUNTES PARA UNA
BIOGRAFIA DEL APRA III, 1935-1948.
Alberto Sanchez. El Virrey (Lima, Peru),
1982. 243 p. $8.00.

A VIOLENCIA BRASILEIRA. Roberto da Matta,
et al. Brasiliense (Sao Paulo, Brazil), 1982.
120 p. $4.00.

Reference

BIBLIOGRAPHIC GUIDE TO LATIN AMERICAN
STUDIES, 1981. G. K. Hall, 1982. $295.00.

CARIBBEAN DATABOOK. Caribbean/Central
American Action. C/CAA (Washington,
D.C.), 1982. $20.00.

DIRECTORIO DE SERVICIOS DE
INFORMATION SOBRE FORMACION
PROFESSIONAL DE AMERICA LATINA
Centro Interamericano de Investigaci6n y
Documentaci6n sobre Formaci6n
Professional. CINTERFOR (Montevideo,
Uruguay), 1981. 126 p. $10.00.
GUIA ECLESIASTICA LATINOAMERICANA.
Consejo Episcopal Latinoamericano.
CELAM (Bogota, Colombia), 1982. 186 p.
$9.00.

NETHERLANDS ANTILLES: A
BIBLIOGRAPHY, 17TH CENTURY-1980.
Gerard A. Nagelkerke. Dept of Caribbean
Studies, Royal Institute of Linguistics and
Anthropology (Leiden, Netherlands), 1982.

NETTIE LEE BENSON COLLECTION IN THE
UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS LIBRARY AND
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. G. K. Hall, 1982.
$295.00.

REGISTERDEEL EN HISTORISCHE
BIBLIOGRAFIE BU DE GESCHIEDENIS
VAN DE NEDERLANDSE ANTILLEN.
J. Hartog. De Wit (Aruba, Netherlands
Antilles), 1981. Companion volume to his
WHO'S WHO IN PUERTO RICO, VIRGIN
ISLANDS AND AMERICAN SAMOA, 1982.
Beacon Press Staff, ed. Beacon Press,
1982. 211 p. $59.95.

Marian Goslinga is the Latin American and
Caribbean Librarian at Florida International
University.


56/CA1?BBEAN tEVIEw




Ships' Registry: Norway


"We had a great time.The S/S Norway

isa beautiful ship. And the entertainment

isbyfar the best."Mr Mrs.oh Noterman,SarasotaFL.


"This was our first cruise and I thought it was
really great.
"To start with, aboard the S/S Norway you don't
have to worry about reservations anywhere. For the
price of your room, you have your meals and practi-
cally everything else included.
"The entertainment aboard the ship during the
whole cruise was excellent. We had a really profes-
sional performance of the Broadway show 'Hello
Dolly.' One night Al Martino, the famous singer, gave
us all a great show. And it's really hard to believe
but even the television shows on the TV set in our
stateroom were good.
"A lot of times we had food that I didn't think
they were able to serve aboard a ship. One night we
had prime rib and another night it was a delicious
roast duck. It was really very, very good.
"All the different sports you were able to play
aboard the S/S Norway were really surprising. I
mean we were actually able to play volleyball and
basketball. Imagine volleyball and basketball aboard
a ship. I was really impressed!"


For more information about one-week cruises
departing from Miami aboard the magnificent
S/S Norway- our $100 million resort- and her visits
to St. Thomas and the unforgettable beach party
you can enjoy on NCL's private Out Island, see your
travel agent or use the attached coupon.
We'll be glad to send you a free booklet about
the S/S Norway that's full of hints and tips on how to
get the most out of your cruise vacation.
--- - -- -- -- -- -- -- -- m
I Norwegian Caribbean Lines'
I First Fleet of the Caribbean
SNorwegian Caribbean Lines
PO. Box 1111
Addison, Illinois 60101
SPlease send me your FREE S/S Norway cruising
I booklet (#102).
NAME
ADDRESS
I CITY/STATE/ZIP


q


, ,'





AIR FLORIDA

OPENS UPA WHOLE

NEW WORLD TO

THE BAHAMAS
FROM NEW YORK
Air Florida has the only daily non-stop flights to
Freeport, the only non-stop flights to Rock
Sound (Eleuthera) and a connecting flight to
Treasure Cay. Air Florida also has daily service
to Freeport out of White Plains.
FROM MIAMI
Air Florida has daily non-stop flights to Free-
port and 20 flights a week to The Bahamas Out
Islands: Treasure Cay, Rock Sound, North
Eleuthera, Marsh Harbour and George Town.
FROM WASHINGTON, D.C.
Air Florida has daily flights to Freeport and
connecting service to Rock Sound (Eleuthera).
For information call toll free 1-800-327-2971.






SAir Florida
t' At our prices now everyone can go.