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Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Table of Contents
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    Front Matter
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Cover: THE LAND By Edna Manley (University of The West Indies Collection)








VOLUME 44, NOS. 3 & 4


CARIBBEAN


QUARTERLY


(Copyright reserved and reproduction without permission strictly forbidden.)


CELEBRATING 50 YEARS, OF UWI
FOREWORD v
en Frangais
en Espanol
Caribbean Quarterly Contribution to West Indian Literature(1949-78) 1
Evadne McLean
Edith Clarke: Jamaican Social Reformer and Anthropologist 15
Christine Barrow
Military Selection and Civilian Health :Recruiting West Indians for
World War I 35
Glenford Howe
Cultural Retreival among the Garifuna in Belize an exercise in continuing
education 50
Joseph Palacio
Jamaican Drumming Styles 63
Marjorie Whylie
Forty Years Outside the Walls: Towards an Evaluation of the Extra-Mural
Department of the University of the West Indies in the Non-Campus
Territories 1948-1988 67
Howard Fergus
Perceptions of UWI (Mona): A View from the Managerial Elites 78
Anthony Harriott


SEPT/DEC 1998









The Historical Society of Trinidad and Tobago 91
Kelvin Jarvis
Migration and the Family in the Caribbean 105
Shaheed Mohammed
Time of the Voice, Time of the Bodies 122
Emilio Rodriguez
Our Caribbean Civilisation:Retrospect and Prospect 131
Ralph E. Gonsalves
Joker's Worlds. Old and New: From Tirso to Walcott 151
Robert Hamner
Short Story How to Fight Obeah 159
David Jackman
Poems 169


Book Reviews 179
Books Received 188
Notes on Contributors 191
Instructions to Authors 192








CARIBBEAN QUARTERLY
UNIVERSITY OF THE WEST INDIES

Editorial Committee
lic Hlon. R.M. Nettleford, O.M. Deputy Vice Chancellor, Flitor
Compton Bourne, Principal, St. Augustine Campus, UW1
Sir Keith Hunte, Principal, Cave Hill Campus, UWI
Sir Roy Augier, Professor Emeritus, Dept. of History, Mona
Neville McMorris, Dept. of Physics, Mona
Veronica Salter, Office of Deputy Vice Chancellor, Mona (Managing Editor)
All correspondence and contributions should be addressed to:
The Editor
Caribbean Quarterly
Office of Deputy Vice Chancellor
University of the West Indies
PO Box 42, Mona, Kingston 7, Jamaica
Tel. No. 876-977-3580, Tel Fax 876-927-1920
Email: vsalter@uwimona.edn.jm.
Manuscripts
We invite readers to submit manuscripts or recommend subjects which they would
like to see discussed in Caribbean Quarterly. Articles and book reviews of relevance to the
Caribbean will be gratefully received. Authors should refer to the guidelines at the end of
the issue. Articles submitted are not returned. Contributors are asked not to send interna-
tional postal coupons for this purpose.
Subscriptions (Annual) for 1997-99 (including postage and packaging)
Individual Institution
Jamaica Ja$600 Ja$ 1000
Eastern Caribbean EC$120 EC$150
UK UK40 UK50
Canada, USA, others US$60 US$80
Exchanges
Exchanges are conducted by the Gifts and Exchanges Section, Library, University
of the West Indies, Mona, Kingston 7, Jamaica.
Back Issues and Microfilm
Information for back volumes supplied on request. Caribbean Quarterly is available
on microfilm from Xerox University Microfilms and in book form from Kraus-Thompson
Reprint Ltd.
Abstract and Index
1949-1990 and Supplemental 1991-1996 Author Keyword and Subject Index available.
The journal is abstracted by AES and indexed by HAPI
Subscription orders may be forwarded to the Editor or the Resident Tutor at the
University Centre in any West Indian Territory served by UW1.














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FOREWORD
This double issue of Caribbean Quarterly celebrates the fiftieth anniver-
sary of the University It is noteworthy that two thirds of the material has been
produced by members of the academic staff from all campuses and non campus
territories served by the University The range and scope bear testimony to the
continuing contribution made to the region by the University of the West Indies. The
topics contributed by staff are as diverse as the Caribbean and include the disci-
plines of social and medical sciences, as well as history, cultural studies and the
arts. In addition there are articles that illustrate the role that the University contin-
ues to play in teaching, research and documentation as well as in Outreach and
Continuing Education. Relevance and topicality are crucial to any institution poised
for entry into the new millennium, and a timely piece on attitudes of the managerial
elite confirm that the University is aware of its mission and the direction in which it
must go in the future.
The first article by Evadne McLean, Caribbean Quarterly: Contribution
to Caribbean Literature (1949-78), is in itself a tribute to Caribbean Quarterly,
which will celebrate its 50th anniversary in 1999. Evadne McLean has looked at
just thirty years but the contribution to Caribbean Literature has been significant.
Christine Barrow's article; Edith Clarke: Jamaica Social Reformer and
Anthropologist, quotes liberally from the work of both Norman Girvan, Professor
and Head, Consortium Graduate School of Social Sciences, and Don Robotham,
Pro Vice Chancellor, Graduate Studies and Research, both social science gradu-
ates of UWI and now on the staff at Mona campus. Dr. Barrow, herself, a social
scientist at the Cave Hill campus emphasizes the contribution that continues to be
made by academics at UWI to social discourse and activism. Clarke's work
essentially was on fatherhood, which is a continuing debate as exemplified by the
work of Janet Brown and Barry Chevannes at UWI today It was agreed that
Clarke's work was not taken seriously by her contemporaries at the Institute of
Social and Economic Research at the then UCWI except by M.G.Smith, who
stated that: "The discourse of Caribbean social change is, and must inevitably be
one of contradiction and reinterpretation, acknowledging the duality of reform and
rebellion, accommodation as well as resistance"
Mohammed Shaheed's paper, Migration and its effects on the family,
speaks to yet another social issue confronting the Caribbean and its effects
particularly on children. This phenomenon of the times causes as much distress as
the issues underlining Clarke's research the breakdown of family groups due to
financial constraints leading to the uprooting of family members to join the work-
force. The author argues forcibly that there is a real or perceived culture of
migration in the region that continues to challenge contemporary social sciences.











Two articles are historical in context. Glenford Howe's essay on Military
Selection and Civilian Health: Recruiting West Indians for World War II, is
really an important treatise on the state of health of the region during colonialism.
The article speaks eloquently of the underlying need for a regional University with
a Faculty of Medical Sciences to undertake the formidable task of helping to sustain
a healthy society Medicine was the first teaching Faculty that was established in
1948 at Mona with thirty-three students from the region. The article by Kelvin
Jarvis entitled; The Historical Society of Trinidad and Tobago, is of significance
as it traces not only the beginnings of the society in colonialism but its evolution into
a West Indian History Society with links to the University through both the Depart-
ment of Extra Mural studies in the early 1950s and the early University campus
established at the site of the earlier Imperial College of Tropical Agriculture in St.
Augustine. Shepard was a founder of the Historical Society of Trinidad and a
member of the staff at Imperial College. Eventually the society collection was
housed there and together with the library collection of the then most significant
specialized collection of tropical agriculture anywhere in the world. This contributed
to the nucleus, preservation and development of specialized research sources in
Trinidad that would eventually benefit the UWI as all were transferred to the
University Library with the establishment of the campus in 1960. The article also
speaks of the contribution made by Dr Eric Williams, himself a president in the
1950s with him began West Indian History as a recognized area of research. He
guided the society in a regional direction as he saw West Indian History as a
vehicle for both the establishment of an anti-colonialism stance and nation-building.
Many of his presentations as president were made at the Department of Extra
Mural Studies of the University in Port of Spain.
After 50 years it is important to realize that the dream of the founding
fathers was that the UWI would be a "light rising in the West" for all who tenant the
region and with that the establishment from the outset of extra-mural centres
throughout the territories served Howard Fergus' article, Forty Years outside the
walls: towards an evaluation of the Extra-Mural Department of the University
of the West Indies in the non-campus territories, 1948-1988, takes the reader
on the growth path of the University's outreach thrust, from its establishment at the
outset through to the formal tuition of students registered in the Challenge pro-
gramme, which introduced the possibilities of studying for a higher degree or
diploma from one's own home, but also with opportunity for field research. So
Joseph Palacio's paper, Cultural Retreival among the Garifuna in Belize an
exercise in continuing education, highlights another important activity of the
University's outreach the combination of teaching and research- as without
indigenous research, there would be little relevance in syllabi. The paper describes
a workshop significant for many reasons- not only for the emphasis on continuing
education but also for its merit as an instrument for cultural retrieval and the












validation of the Garifuna culture. Palacio quotes the educator Paolo Friere that
'education should be the key to self-realization and liberation of the student' In a
similar vein is Marjorie Whylie's paper, on Jamaican Drumming Styles, adapted
from a presentation made during her acting as Director of Music, UWI, Mona.
This short presentation would lend itself readily to a participatory/experiential/con-
tinuing education workshop as described in Palacio's paper Of significance is the
role that the UWI is playing as keeper and transmitter of indigenous art forms,
wisdom and skills helped significantly by the technology of the nineties- audio-
video recordings and computer simulation. Anthony Harriott's article, Perceptions
of the UWI (Mona): A View from the Managerial Elites, based on his research
indicates a desire by academics to deliver a product that is relevant and meaning-
ful to the contemporary conditions that our graduates will face in the world of work.
The University fared quite well in the estimation of those surveyed, but areas
requiring improvement need clearly to be addressed.
Time of the Voice: Time of the Bodies, by Emilio Rodriguez, could be
described as a tribute to the Caribbean artist especially those in the literary field.
The essay spans the region taking into account the contributions made by the
non-anglophone territories. This dovetails nicely into the proceeding article by
Ralph Gonsalves of St. Vincent and a UWI alumnus, Our Caribbean Civiliza-
tion:Retrospect and Prospect. Armed with eight pointers he demonstrates the
uniqueness of the Caribbean, no matter whether the language is English, Dutch,
Danish, French or Spanish. Using the metaphor, "rhythm of Africa, Melody of
Europe" he extends it to describe the Caribbean civilization as all-encompassing
with the addition of Asiatic chords and lyrics "strickly' Caribbean.
The final paper is by Robert Hamner, Joker's Worlds, Old and New
From Tirso to Walcott. In his treatment of Walcott's Don Juan Hamner states that
Walcott's thrust is to dramatize the serio-comic give-and-take of human existence.
In Walcott's words "Don Juan is the emblem of man's revolutionary power to
challenge the status quo" and what could be more contemporary Caribbean than
that?
The inclusion of a short story was common in the early years of Caribbean
Quarterly. How to Fight Obeah, by David Jackman, tells a tale that is recognisibly
Caribbean. Over the past few years, native born and native bred languages have
been encoded with a modicum of success. In the story, there are swings in the
dialogue from creole (Kamau Brathwaite's nation language) to Caribbean standard
English and back again maybe this is deliberate, echoing the culturally schizoid
state that many who have remained ungrounded in the region find themselves in.
The poetry (with the exception of "NWM" ) was composed by members of
UWls academic Staff, with one exception all hold their substantive posts in










disciplines other than Literature (Radio Education, History, Philosophy, Modern
Languages and Education), The themes span the contemporary the tragedy of
Montserrat, the everyday the sea that surrounds us, student life, to the universal
betrayal and war "NWM" a tribute, fittingly is for Norman Washington Manley
who ensured by his generosity that persons living on the Mona lands would have a
permanent home at the establishment of the University on that site.
Book reviews and book listings complete this Anniversary Special Issue,
and we have heralded the next fifty years of Caribbean Quarterly with the
inclusion of the foreword in both French and Spanish, translated by Dr Marie
N'Zengou Tayo and Annette Insanally, of the Mona campus,respectively, for the
benefit of our Caribbean neighbours.
REX NETTLEFORD
Editor

AVANT-PROPOS (translated by Dr M-J. N'Zengou Tayo, Dept. of
Modern Languages and Literatures, Mona campus, for LACC)
Ce numero double de Caribbean Quarterly commemore le cinquantieme
anniversaire de I'Universite. Aussi convient-il de noter que les deux tiers des
articles dans ce numero ont ete rediges par des membres du corps enseignant et
chercheur de tous les campus ainsi que des territoires desservis par I'Universite.
Le champ et I'envergure de ces communications apportent sont un t6moignage de
la contribution permanent de I'Universite des Indes Occidentales a la region. Les
sujets traits par les articles de nos universitaires sont aussi varies que la region
des Carafbes, comprenant aussi bien les disciplines des Sciences sociales et
medicales que I'Histoire, les Etudes culturelles et les Arts, ainsi que des articles
qui illustrent le r61le que I'Universite continue de jouer en education, recherche et
documentation. Nos enseignants-chercheurs ont egalement contribute au travail
important de I'Universite en formation continue et en education des defavorises.
Pertinence et actuality sont cruciales pour toute institution se preparant a entrer
dans le nouveau millionaire, et un article sur les attitudes des cadres dirigeants, qui
tombe a point nomme, confirm que I'Universite remplit sa mission. II indique
egalement I'orientation qu'elle doit prendre a I'avenir
Le premier article, par Evadne McLean, Caribbean Quarterly Contribu-
tion to Caribbean Literature (1949-78), (Caribbean Quarterly Apport a la littera-
ture caraibeenne) est en soi un hommage a Caribbean Quarterly, qui commemore
egalement son cinquantieme anniversaire en 1999. Evadne McLean n'a etudie
que trente ans de la revue mais son apport a la literature caraibeenne est
important.
L'article de Dr. Christine Barrow, and Anthropologist)) (Edith Clarke Anthropologue et reformatrice social
jamaiquaine), cite abondamment les travaux de Norman Girvan, Professeur et
Directeur du Consortium du Deuxieme et Troisieme Cycle de Sciences humaines,












et de Don Robotham, Vice-President adjoint responsible des Etudes de Deuxieme
et Troisieme Cycle et recherche sur le Campus de Mona. Barrow, elle-meme
specialist en sciences humaines au campus de Cave Hill, met I'accent sur les
contributions que les universitaires d'UWI continent de faire au discours social et
au militantisme. Le travail de Clarke portait essentiellement sur la paternity, un
sujet toujours ouvert a discussion, comme I'illustrent les travaux de Janet Brown et
de Barry Chevannes a UWI aujourd'hui. On reconnait que les contemporains de
Clarke ne prenaient pas ses travaux tries au serieux a I'Institut de Recherche
economique et social de ce qui etait a I'epoque I'UCWI, a I'exception de M.G.
Smith qui affirmait que < inevitablement 6tre un discours de contradiction et de re-interpretation qui recon-
naisse la dualite de la reform et de la revolte, du compromise autant que de la
resistance.)>
L'article de Mohammed Shaheed, ((Migration and its effects on the
family)), (La Migration et ses repercussion sur la famille) traite d'un autre problem
social auquel la region des Carafbes se trouve confrontee ainsi que de ses
repercussions sur les enfants en particulier. Ce phenomene d'epoque cause autant
de detresse que les problems soulignes par Clarke dans ses recherches, a savoir,
la disintegration des groups familiaux en raison de contraintes financieres con-
duisant au deracinement des membres de la famille pour se joindre la main
d'oeuvre salariee. L'auteur defend energiquement le point de vue selon lequel il
existe une culture de la migration dans la region, reelle ou percue, qui remet en
question, en permanence, les sciences humaines contemporaines.
Deux articles sont d'ordre historique. L'essai de Glenford Howe, ((Military
Selection and Civilian Health: Recruiting West Indians for World War II>, sur la
Mondiale) est vraiment un trait important sur la situation sanitaire de la region
pendant I'epoque colonial. L'article parle avec eloquence du besoin sous-jacent
d'une university regional comportant une Faculte de medicine en vue de prendre
en charge la tAche redoutable de produire une society en bonne sant6. Effective-
ment, la faculty de medicine fut la premiere faculty creee en 1948 a Mona avec
trente-trois etudiants originaires de la region. De son c6te, I'article de Kelvin Jarvis
intitule ((The Historical Society of Trinidad and Tobago>) (La Societe d'Histoire de
Trinite et Tobago), est important etant donned qu'il retrace non seulement les debuts
de cette society sous le colonialisme mais egalement sa transformation en une
Society d'Histoire antillaise rattachee a I'Universite a la fois, par I'intermediaire du
Department d'education permanent au debut des annees 50 et de la jeune
University alors sise a I'Institut Imperiale d'Agriculture tropical a Saint-Augustine.
Shepard fut un fondateur de la Societe d'Histoire de Trinite et un membre du
personnel enseignant de I'mperial College qui devait devenir le campus d'UWI a











Saint-Augustine. (Eventually) Finalement, la collection de la Societe fut hebergee
la en compagnie de celle de la bibliotheque qui constituait alors la collection
specialisee d'Agriculture tropical la plus important du monde. Cela contribua a
constituer le noyau en conservation et developpement des sources de recherches
specialisee en Trinite, pour le plus grand benefice de I'Universite par la suite
puisque toute ces collections furent transferees a la Bibliotheque universitaire
lorsque le campus fut etabli en 1960. L'article evoque egalement la contribution
apporte par Eric Williams, president de la Societe dans les annees 50. C'est avec
lui que commence I'Histoire antillaise en tant que domaine de recherche reconnu.
II guida la Societe vers une approche regional car il voyait I'Histoire antillaise
comme le vehicle qui contribuerait a etablir une position arnd-colonialiste ainsi qu'a
la construction de la nation. Plusieurs de ses communications en tant que presi-
dent eurent lieu au Departement d'education permanent de I'Universite a Port
d'Espagne.
Cinquante plus tard, il est important de prendre conscience du fait que le
reve des peres fondateurs etait qu' UWI devienne une (lumiere s'elevant a
l'ouest) pour tous les habitants de la region avec en outre la creation des le depart
de centres d'education permanent partout dans les territoires desservis. Ainsi,
I'article d'Howard Fergus, ((Forty Years outside the walls: towards an evaluation of
the ExtraMural Department of the University of the West Indies in the non-campus
territories, 1948-1988 (Quarante ans hors des murs Vers une evaluation du
Department d'education permanent de I'Universite des Indes Occidentales dans
les territoires n'ayant pas de campus, 1948-1988), fait suivre au lecteur I'itineraire
du developpement de I'initiative prise par I'Universite pour les defavorises des tous
premiers moments de sa creation a la scolarisation officielle des etudiants inscrits
au programme (Challenge, un programme qui introduisit la possibility de faire des
etudes superieures chez soi. L'article de Joseph Palacio, (Cultural Retrieval
among the Garifuna in Belize an exercise in continuing education>>, (La Reappro-
priation de la culture chez les Garifuna de Belize Un Exercice en formation
continue), met en lumiere une autre activity important de I'Universite en faveur
des defavoris6s, une combinaison de I'enseignement et de la recherche, puisque,
sans une recherche autochtone, les programmes scolaires n'auraient aucune
pertinence. L'article decrit un atelier de travail significatif a plus d'un titre, non
seulement pour I'accent mis sur la formation continue, mais 6galement pour ses
merites en tant qu'instrument permettant une re-appropriation culturelle et la recon-
naissance de la culture Garifuna. Palacio cite I'educateur Paolo Freire pour qui
Il'education devrait 6tre pour I'etudiant la cle de sa liberation et de son auto-reali-
sation. L'article de Marjorie Whylie, ((Jamaican Drumming Styles), sur les styles
de battement de tambour en Jamaique, appartient a la meme veine. Adapt6 d'une
communication faite lors d'un replacement effectue a UWI-Mona en tant que
tuteur en musique, ce court article se preterait facilement a un atelier de formation












continue, participatif / experimental suivant la description qu'en donne Palacio
dans son article. Le r6le que joue UWI en tant que garden et transmetteur de la
sagesse, de talents (savoir-faire) et des formes artistiques locales est particuliere-
ment important, surtout avec I'aide de la technologies des annees 90 (enregistre-
ments audio et videos et simulation informatique). L'article d'Anthony Harriott,
((Perceptions of the UWI (Mona): A View from the Managerial Elites>> (Perception
de UWI (Mona) L'Opinion des Cadres dirigeants), base sur ses recherches,
indique le souci des universitaires d'offrir un produit qui soit pertinent et ait un sens
dans les conditions contemporaines auxquelles devront faire face nos diplemes
dans le monde du travail. L'Universite s'acquitte bien de sa tache selon les
estimations des personnel interrogees, mais il faudrait faire quelque chose dans
les domaines necessitant une amelioration.
Nous pourrions decrire ((Time of the Voice Time of the Bodies>> (Temps
de la voix Temps des corps), par Emilio Rodriguez, comme un hommage aux
artistes caraibeens, et tout particulierement a ceux du domaine de la literature. En
effet, cet essai couvre I'ensemble de la region incluant les contributions des
territoires non-anglophones. II cadre donc bien avec I'article suivant de Ralph
Gonsalvesde St. Vincent, et un alumnus de I'Universite des Indes Occitales, <(Our
Caribbean Civilization Retrospect and Prospect> (Notre Civilisation caraibeenne
Retrospective et Prospective). Arme de huit indices, il demontre le caractere
exceptionnel de la region des Caralbes, peu imported la langue, qu'elle soit I'anglais,
le neerlandais, le danois, le frangais ou I'espagnol. Se servant de la metaphore,
(rythme de I'Afrique, melodie d'Europe>> (et en y ajoutant les accords asiatiques et
les paroles exclusivement>> caraibeennes), il I'etend a sa description de la civilisa-
tion carafbeenne comme une civilisation qui englobe tout.
Le dernier article est de Robert Hamner, Joker's Worlds, Old and New:
From Tirso to Walcott> (Les Mondes du Trompeur L'Ancien et le nouveau, de
Tirso a Walcott). Dans son analyse du Don Juan de Walcott, Hamner declare que
I'initiative de Walcott consiste a dramatiser les concessions tragi-comiques de
I'existence humaine. Selon les propres terms de Walcott, bleme du pouvoir revolutionnaire de I'homme de defier le statu quo Qu'est-ce qui
pourrait 6tre plus contemporain et carafbeen?
L'insertion d'une nouvelle etait une pratique courante au course des pre-
miere annees de Caribbean Quarterly > (Comment lutter
centre le quimbois) de David Jackman raconte une histoire bien caraibeenne.
Depuis ces dernieres annees, la creole dispose d'un code ecrit avec un minimum
de success. Dans ce recit, le dialogue oscille du patois a I'Anglais antillais standard,
un choix peut-etre delibere mais qui fait echo a I'etat de schizoidie culturelle dans
lequel se retrouvent beaucoup de ceux qui n'ont pas su s'enraciner dans la region.













Les poemes (a I'exception de "NWM") ont ete composes par des membres
du corps enseignant et chercheur d'UWl. Mis a part un seul, ces derniers appar-
tiennent a des disciplines autres que la literature (Education par la radio, Histoire,
Philosophie, Langues vivantes etrangeres et Education), Les themes couvrent des
sujets contemporains la tragedie de Montserrat, du quotidien (la mer qui nous
entoure, la vie etudiante) a I'universel (la trahison et la guerre). NWM est un
hommage a Norman Washington Manley qui s'insere bien ici. En effet, par sa
generosity, il a fait en sorte que ceux qui vivaient sur les terres de Mona aient une
residence permanent lors de la creation de I'Universite a cet endroit.
Enfin, les comptes rendus de livres et une liste d'ouvrages regus com-
pletent ce num6ro special d'anniversaire, et nous annongons les cinquante annees
a venir de Caribbean Quarterly en y incluant un avant-propos en frangais et en
espagnol pour que nos voisins carafbeens en beneficient.
REX NETTLEFORD

INTRODUCCION (translated by Annette Insanally, Latin American-
Caribbean Centre, LACC, UWI, Mona)
En este double nimero de Caribbean Quarterly se conmemora el cincuen-
tenario de la Universidad de las Indias Occidentales. Cabe destacar que las dos
terceras parties de los articulos fueron contribuidas por el personal acad6mico de
los tres recintos universitarios y los demas territories que cubre la Universidad. El
alcance y la variedad de estos articulos reflejan la permanent contribution
regional de la Universidad. Los temas tratados son tan diversos como es el
Caribe. Los articulos abarcan las ciencias sociales y medicas, la historic, los
studios culturales y las artes e ilustran el papel que la Universidad sigue
desempenando en las areas de educaci6n, investigaci6n y documentaci6n.
Tambien examine el important trabajo de la Universidad en la Educaci6rn Con-
tinua y de Extramuros.
Para una instituci6n que se encuentre en el umbral del nuevo milenio,
importa much que sea pertinente y contemporanea. La publicaci6n incluye un
articulo oportuno sobre la actitud del elite gerencial que confirm que la Universi-
dad esta cumpliendo con su misi6n. Tambien indica el camino que debe empren-
der la Universidad en el future.
El primer articulo de Evadne McLean: Caribbean Quarterly. Contribution
to Caribbean Literature 1949-78 (Contribuci6n a la literature CaribeFia (1949-78))
es de hecho un homenaje al Caribbean Quarterly que tambien cumple los 50












aros en 1999. Evadne McLean ha documentado a solo 30 anos pero la con-
tribucion a la Literatura Caribeia ha sido important.
El articulo de Christine Barrow Edith Clarke: Jamaica Social Reformer and
Anthropologist (Reformista y Antropologa Social Jamaicana,) cita generosamente
de las publicaciones de Norman Girvan, Profesor Universitano y Jefe del Consor-
cio de Graduados en Ciencias Sociales y de Don Robotham, Pro Vice Canciller a
cargo de Estudios Posgrado y investigation. Ambos son cientificos sociales del
recinto de Mona. La misma Dr Barrow, tambien una cientifica social del recinto de
Cave Hill destaca la permanent contribuci6n de los academicos de la Universidad
de las Indias Occidentales al discurso social y al activismo. El trabajo de Clarke
enfocaba la paternidad que sigue siendo un debate continue tal como lo manifiesta
el trabajo actual de Janet Brown y Barry Chevannes de la Universidad. Todos
estaban de acuerdo que el trabajo de Clarke no fue tornado en serio por sus
colegas del Instituto de Investigaci6n Socioeconomica que en ese entonces se
Ilamaba el Colegio Universitario de las Indias Occidentales. Es decir, todos menos
M.G. Smith quien dijo que: "el discurso del cambio social caribeho es y debe ser
uno de contradicci6n y reinterpretaci6n, reconociendo la dicotonia de la reform y
la rebelion, la tolerancia y la resistencia"
El trabajo de Mohammed Shaheed: Migration and its effects on the family
(Migraci6n y sus efectos sobre la familiar) trata otro tema social que confront el
Caribe, lo analiza y ve c6mo les afecta a los niios en particular Este fen6meno de
la epoca genera la misma preocupaci6n de los temas de la investigaci6n de Clarke
que tratan o sea el derrumbe de los grupos familiares debido a las limitaciones
financieras que conducen al desarraigamiento de los miembros familiares para
unirse a la fuerza laboral. El autor postula agresivamente que hay una cultural real
o percibida de la migracion en la region que sigue retando las ciencias sociales
contemporaneas La publicaci6n incluye dos articulos de contenido historic. El
ensayo de Glenford Howe sobre Military Selection and Civilian Health: Recruiting
West Indians for World War II (la Selecci6n Military la Salud Civil: Reclutando a
los cuidadanos de las Indias Occidentales para la Segunda Guerra Mundial), de
hecho es un ensayo important sobre el estado de la salud de la region durante el
period colonial. En el articulo se plantea muy claramente la necesidad de una
Universidad regional con una Facultad de Ciencias Medicas para emprender la
formidable tarea de crear una sociedad saludable. La Facultad de Medicina fue la
primera en establecerse en Mona en 1948 con treinta y tres estudiantes provenien-
tes de la region. El articulo de Kelvin Jarvis titulado: The Historical Society of
Trinidad and Tobago (La Asociaci6n de Historiadores de Trinidad y Tobago) es
important ya que trata no solo los inicios de la sociedad colonial sino su evoluci6n
hacia una Asociaci6n de Historiadores de las Indias Occidentales. Dicha Aso-
ciaci6n se relacionaba con la Universidad a traves del Departamento de Extra-











muros studios a principles de los anos 50 y la Universidad incipiente que se
establecio en el entonces Colegio Imperial de Agricultura Tropical en el recinto de
San Agustin. Shepard fue fundador de la Asociaci6n de Historiadores de Trinidad
y miembro del profesorado del Colegio Imperial (que pas6 a Ilamarse la Universi-
dad de las Indias Occidentales, Recinto'de San Agustin). Por fin, la coleccion de
la Asociacion fue alojada en ese recinto y junto con la coleccion bibliotecaria de la
que en ese entonces representaba la coleccio6n principal especializada en la
agriculture tropical en todo el mundo. Esto contribuy6 al nucleo, la conservation
y el desarrollo de las fuentes de investigaci6n especializada en Trinidad que
beneficiaba a la Universidad ya que se traslado todo a la Biblioteca Universitaria al
fundarse el recinto universitario en 1960. El articulo tambien hace referencia al
aporte del Dr Eric Williams, quien fue Presidente en los anos 50. A raiz de su
trabajo, la historic de las Indias Occidentales Ilego a ser un area reconocido de
investigaci6n. Condujo a la sociedad hacia un camino regional ya que consider-
aba que la historic de las Indias Occidentales era un vehiculo tanto para el
establecimiento de una position anticolonial como para la construcci6n de una
nacion. Muchas de sus presentaci6nes presidenciales se ejecutaron en el Depar-
tamento de Extramuros studios del recinto Universitario de Puerto Espaha.
Despues de 50 anos es important notar que el sueno de los padres
fundadores fue que la UWI Ilegara a ser una "luz ascendiente en el oeste" para
todos los asistentes, y de alli el establecimiento desde el principio de centros de
extramuros en todos los territories que cubre la Universidad. El articulo de Howard
Fergus: Forty Years outside the walls: towards an evaluation of the Extra-Mural
Department of the University of the West Indies in the non-campus territories,
1948-1988 (Cuarenta anos fuera de los muros: hacia una evolucion del Depar-
tamento de Extramuros de la Universidad de las Indias Occidentales en los
territories que no tienen recinto universitario 1948-1988") nos relata el empuje de
parte de la Universidad hacia e la ensehanza de extramuros desde su es-
tablecimiento hasta la tutoria formal de los estudiantes inscritos en el program
Challenge lo que introdujo la posibilidad de estudiar desde la propia casa para el
titulo o diploma. El trabajo de Joseph Palacio: Cultural Retrieval among the
Ganfuna in Belize an exercise in continuing education, (La recuperacion de la
cultural entire los Garifuna en Belice un ejercicio en la educacio6n continue) destaca
otra actividad important del program de extramuros de la universidad que fue la
combinaci6n de la ensenanza y la investigation dada la importancia de la investi-
gacion indigena para la pertinencia de los programs de studio. La ponencia
describe un taller que es important no solo por la enfasis que pone en la
educaci6n continue sino por su merito como instrument de recuperacion cultural
y la validaci6n de la cultural ganfuna. Cita Palacio al educador Paolo Freire que
dijo que "la educaci6n debe ser la Ilave a la autoconciencia y la liberacio6n del
estudiante". El enfoque de la presentaci6n de Marjorie Whylie sobre Jamaica











Drumming Styles" (Estilos jamaicanos de tocar tambores) es muy parecido. Es
una adaptacion de una presentation de ella cuando estaba de Director suplente
de Musica en la UWI en Mona. Esta breve ponencia se acopia presta muy
facilmente para un taller participatorio experimental y de education continue tal
como lo describe el professor Palacios. Cabe destacer el papel que desempeia la
Universidad de guardian y diseminadora de formas artisticas indigenas, salidurie
y habilidades apoyadas de modo significativo por la tecnologia de los anos 90
grabaciones audiovisuales y simulacion usando computadores. El articulo de
Anthony Harriott: (Perceptions of the UWI (Mona): A View from the Managerial
Elites (Las Percepciones de la UWI (Mona): una perspective de los Elites Geren-
ciales) basado en su investigation, demuestra el deseo academic de suministrar
un product pertinente y adecuado frente las condiciones actuales laborales en
las cuales operan nuestros graduados. Entre aquellos que fueron estudiados sali6
bien la universidad. Sin embargo, hay areas que necesitan mejorarse los cuales
deben ser revisados
Se puede describir a Time of the Voice Time of the Bodies. (Tiempo de
Voz Tiempo de Cuerpo) por Emilio Rodriguez como un homenaje al artist
Caribeho, particularmente el literano. El ensayo abarca la region e incluye las
contribuciones hechas por los territories no angloparlantes. Este ensayo sirve de
buena introduccio6n al siguiente articulo de Ralph Gonsalves del San Vincent: Our
Caribbean Civilization: Retrospect and Prospect (Nuestra Civilizacion Caribeha.
Pasado y Futuro) Ultiliza ocho indices para demostrar la singularidad del Caribe,
no importa el idioma sea Ingles, Holandes, Danes, Frances o Espahol. Siguiendo
la metafora, "ritmo de Africa, music de Europa" present la civilizaci6n caribena
como abarcadora cuando se le suman las cuerdas asiaticas y las lincas particu-
lares del Caribe.
El trabajo final es de Rober Hamner Joker's Worlds, Old and New From
Tirso to Walcott (Viejos y Nuevos Mundos del Burl6n. De Tirso a Walcott) En su
analysis del Don Juan de Walcott, Juan Hamner observa que el enfoque de Walcott
es la dramatizacion de la dicotomia, medio seria y medio c6mica, de la existencia
humana. En las palabras de Walcott "Don Juan es el simbolo del poder revolu-
cionario del hombre para retar el status quo" y ,que es mas Caribeho contem-
Doraneo que eso?
En los anos iniciales del Caribbean Quarterly, la inclusion de un cuento
era muy comun. How to Fight Obeah (Como luchar contra el obeah) por David
Jackman, es un cuento obviamente caribeho. En los ultimos afios, el patois ha
sido introducido con relative exito. El lenguaje del dialogo en el cuento oscila entire
el patois y el Ingles estandar del Caribe. Quizas esto sea deliberado, reflejando el
estado cultural schizofrenico de muchos que permanecieron desarraigados. La
poesia (con la excepcion de NWM") fue compuesta por miembros del personal








XVI


academic de la UWl. Con la excepcion de uno, todos los autores ocupan puestos
substantivos en otras disciplines que la Literatura Radio Educaci6n, Historia,
Filosofia, Lenguas Modernas y Educaci6n). Los temas abarcan desde lo contem-
poraneo la tragedia de Montserrat y la vida rutinaria u el mar que nos rodea y la
vida estudiantil hasta lo universal la perfidia y la guerra. NWM es un apto
homenaje muy para Norman Washington Manley cuya generosidad asegur6 que
aquellas personas que vivian en las tierras de Mona tenian una casa permanent
al establecerse la Universidad en esa sede.
Este numero especial del cincuentenario incluye con reseias de libros y
referencias bibliograficas. Tambien hemos se inaugurar los proximos cincuenta
aios del Caribbean Quarterly con la inclusion la introduction en Espanol y Frances
para el beneficio de nuestros vecinos en el Caribe.
REX NETTLEFORD
Editor












Caribbean Quarterly Contribution To West Indian Literature
(1949 1978)


by


EVADNE MCLEAN
Overview
Caribbean Quarterly (CQ) is one of the oldest periodicals in the English-
speaking-Caribbean. Regarded as the flagship publication of the University, it was
launched by the then Extra Mural Department Department (later to become the
School of Continuing Studies) in 1949, to be a platform from which research
findings, university information, and general knowledge could be effectively dis-
seminated to campus and non-campus territories. It is now a publication of the
Cultural Studies Initiative, Office of the Vice Chancellor
The quarterly's policy line was stated in the editorial of its charter issue 1 1
(1949) by one of its founding editors, Philip Sherlock:
"Throughout the Caribbean there are groups of
men and women who are coming together to
learn to deepen their intellectual interests, to find
out through discussion and reading more about
themselves, their history the lands in which they
live, and the world round about them. This journal
is published for these men and women, not only
for members of extra-mural classes but for all
men and women who seek after knowledge to be
a bond between them and to give them informa-
tion about each other CQ seeks to do more, it
will work in co-operation with those literary jour-
nals which have contributed to the cultural devel-
opment of the Caribbean It will concentrate its
attention on social and educational movements
that are of general significance. It will aim at
accuracy, objectivity, and clear thought, clearly
expressed Above all, it seeks to establish anc
strengthen the tradition of the book and of learn-
ing in the Caribbean

This goal which CQ set itself was not beyond realization had no
shortage of contributors as according to Sir Philip. young scholars budding











politicians and others were enthusiastic contributors to CQ soley because of the
recognition publication in the journal offered, for there was no monetary reward.
Some of the early contributors who later achieved international recognition are:
Jamaican poet and anthropologist, M.G. Smith, Guyanese historian Rawle Farley,
and Trinidadian historian, Eric Williams.
Also,Caribbean Quarterly is interdisciplinary in perspective so most read-
ers can find subjects of interest to them. Each issue contains about six to eight
articles, informative and comprehensive in nature and replete with illustrations
where appropriate. They may be concerned with literature, history education,
agriculture, industry, sociology, ethnology and religion among other subjects. An
examination of the contents of the early issues of CQ, however revealed an
abundance of West Indian literature between its covers. One could account for this
in two ways. Firstly, there was the literary interest of the founding editors, Philip
Sherlock of Jamaica and Andrew Pearse of Trinidad This interest no doubt made
them willing to make good literature accessible to a wide readership. It was Pearse
who said: "A people without a literature suffers both by not knowing itself and by
being unknown to the rest of the literary world. 2.2 (1958): 12-23. Both were
prolific writers and contributed regularly to CQ. Secondly, during the decades prior
to the launching of the Journal of West Indian Literature, a scholarly journal
dedicated to West Indian literature, scholars had to rely on the more general
journals in the region such as Jamaica Journal, BIM and Caribbean Quarterly or
look overseas for publications in which to bring their creative works and research
findings to the attention of the literary world.
During the first 30 years, CQ published 763 articles of which 235, nearly a
third, were dedicated to West Indian literature. (See Tablel). The sub-sections
which follow attest to its scope and wide ranging coverage.
TABLE 1

Special
West Indian Special
Period Of No Of Special Issues on
Publication Volumes ierary Other Issues West Indian
contribution literature
50YEARS 24 235 52 terature

50 YEARS |24 !235 528- 26 10


* Total Literary Contributions -763













CQ's Focus on Literary Achievements (English-Speaking Caribbean)

DRAMA

Drama holds pride of place in West Indian literature. Many famous plays
have come out of the territories and have gained international acclaim. In defining
drama, Errol Hill, then Professor of Drama and Chairman of the Drama department
at Dartmouth College, USA said: "Unlike other literary forms, drama is realized in
performance The play creates a living world in which people interact by word,
movement and gesture with other people, as well as with the physical environment
around them. 18.4 (1972): 10. There were not many plays and critical reviews
documented in CQ however, although much theatrical activity took place in the
Caribbean during the period under review

Among those documented are:-

Brown, Lloyd. "Dreamers and Slaves: The Ethos of Revolution in Walcott and
Leroi Jones. 17 3-4
(1971): 36-44
Gray, Cecil "Folk Themes in West Indian Drama: An Analysis. 14 1-2 (1969)
102-109
Hill, Errol. "The Emergence of National Drama in the West Indies. 18 4 (1972) 9-
39
Hopkinson, Slade. "Dream on Monkey Mountain and the popular response. 23.2-
3 (1977): 77-79
Nettleford, Rex. "The Dance as an art form Its place in the West Indies. 14 1-2
(1968): 127-135.
Walcott, Derek. Drums and Colours. an epic Drama Commissioned for the Open-
ing of the First Federal Parliament of the West Indies, April 23, 1958 7 1-2
(1961)

FICTION

Fiction is another genre of West Indian Literature which was under-docu-
mented during this period although there were many outstanding and prolific
writers of fiction during these early years The explanation for this perhaps lies ir
the fact that BIM Kyk-over-al and other periodicals tended to focus in the main on
fiction and CQ chose not to compete












Among those documented are:-
Godfrey, Glen D. "The Discharge. 18.4 (1972): 43-52.
Hope, Colin. "Gabrielle. 15.2-3 (1969): 109-118.
Pollard, Velma. "Parable 1 23.1 (1977): 80
-- Parable 2." 23.2 3 (1980): 81

POETRY

Poetry on the other hand was well-represented in CQ. Among the contri-
butions appearing in the first issue 1 1 (1949): 35-38, was the young St. Lucian,
Derek Walcott's poem "The Yellow Cemetery Although CQ was not the first
publication to carry the poem-having appeared in a book:25 Poems, published by
the author, it did so in keeping with its policy to give greater circulation to works
illustrating literary excellence. This poem set the stage for the large number of
poems which were to be published in CQ. These came from not only the Carib-
bean region but also as far away as the UK and Australia. Besides Derek Wal-
cott,many contributors whose work was introduced to us in CQ during these
fledgling years have also gone on to achieve national and international recognition.

The following are some of the poems which appeared in these early issues:-

British Honduras
Barrow, Raymond. "Dawn is a Fisherman.
-- "High Noon.
-. "There is a mystic splendour 2 2 (195?) 32-34
Colon
Toro, Luis Carlos. "Those Who. Trans. Fragano Ledgister 24 3 -4 (1978): 59
Cuba
Guillen, Nicolas. "Ballad of My Two Grandfathers. Trans. G R Coulthard. 2.4
(1952). 16-17
Retamar Roberto Fernandez. "Images."Trans. Margaret Randall and Robert
Cohen 21 1-2 (1975): 91
Dominica
Ross, Charlesworth "To Matson Rolle Chief Guide. 15 1(1969) 51-52.
Grenada


Douglas, Paul "Ole Times 18.4 (1972). 41











Guyana
Chan, Brian. "Grope" 13.3 (1967): 38.
Hopkinson, Slade. "Worthing: Midnight. 15,2-3 (1969): 79 80.
McDonald, lan. "Yusman Ali, Charcoal Seller 16.4 (1970): 18.
Jamaica
Baugh, Edward. "Collect for Today 15.2-3 (1969): 4.
Scott, Dennis. "Spectator Sport. 15.2-3 (1969): 99
Sherlock, P M. "Ascension. 2.3 (1952): 52-54.
--. "Years Ending. 15.2-3 (1969): 7
St. Lucia
Nunes, Fred. "Transportation Memorandum." 24.1 2 (1978): 90 91
Reid, Stanley "In Memoria ( Barbara Jones ). 18.4 (1972): 74
Walcott, Derek. "Words for Rent. 5.2 (1957): 99-102.
St. Vincent
Markham, E. A. "The Optimist." 17 3-4 (1971): 53.
--."Patience. 17.3-4 (1971): 91
Trinidad And Tobago
Brown, Wayne. "Rilke (for Mardi)" 13.4 (1967); 23.
--. "Whales (for George Lamming). 18.4 (1972):68-69.
Roach, E. "Homestead. 2.3 (1952): 54-55.


A most significant contribution to creative writing is CQ's Anthology of West
Indian Poetry 5.3 (1958) featuring 76 poems, all works of poets in the Caribbean.
This, along with a similar work An Anthology of West Indian Poetry (Kyk- over-al 22
(1957)) was the subject of a critical article entitled, "West Indian Poetry" by R. J.
Owens. Describing the state of West Indian poetry at the time, he said: "So many
poems and yet so little poetry, so many voices and yet almost no one with his own
voice, under the seeming heterogeneity a monotonous sameness. He went on to
chide most of the poets for copying the styles of the English poets instead of being
original but praised Derek Walcott for his originality 7.3 (1961): 120-121

Some other critical articles on poetry are:-
Bennett, Louise. "Bennett on Bennett. Interview with Dennis Scott. 14.1-2
(1968): 97-101.












Coulthard, G. R. "Africa in West Indian Poetry 4 1 (1955) 5-14
Crowley, Daniel J Rev of Africa in West Indian Poetry 4.2 (1955). 169-170

CQ's Focus on Literary Achievements in Non-English Speaking Territories

Peoples of the English-speaking Caribbean are not concerned only with
the events taking place at home, but display a deep interest in developments of all
kinds taking place in other regions as well. It was Andrew Pearse who said: "We
who are neither French nor Russian nor German have nevertheless had deep
experience of these countries if we are familiar with Balzac, Turgeniev and
Thomas Mann. 2.2 (1953): 12 In recognition of this interest, the editors reiterated
the journal's policy
"We hope our readers will take the picture of men
labouring to build a bridge as a symbol of an
editorial intention that CQ should enable people
living in the non-British Caribbean to learn more
about us and we about them. 3.3 (1953)
Editorial.

"Caribbean Quarterly will continue to try and bring
issues of moment of our Latin neighbours through
studies, analyses and comment on life in all its
different aspects in the world of Latin America.
19.1 (1973)

The literary articles which have been published as a result of this editorial
policy have enriched West Indian literature as they contributed to the enhancement
of cultural and intellectual bonds and allowed for literary comparison and the
cross-fertilization of ideas.

Some of the literary contributions which fall in this category are:-

Arana, Gregorio. "The Baffling Creator A study of the writing of James Baldwin.
12 3 (1966): 3-23.
Carew, Jan. "The Fusion of African and American Folk Myths. 23 1 (1977) 7-21
Carter, Shelia Y "Alfonso Reyes: Critic and Artist. 21 4 (1975) 30-41
Coulthard, G. R. Rev "A Bibliography of Neo-African Literature, from Africa.
America and the Caribbean" by Jahnheinz Jahn. 12.1 (1966) 70-71
"The Emergence of Afro-Cuban Poetry 2.3 (195?): 14-17
"The French West Indian Background of Negritude. 7.3 (1961): 128-136.












-- Rev of L Afrique dans la Poesie Hatienne, by Maurice Lubin 11.3-4 (1965):
81-83.
--."Literature of Latin America and the Caribbean. 10.4 (1964): 46-54
-- "Recent Marxist Interpretations of Latin American Literature. 9 3 (1963): 10-
15
--. "Spanish American Novel 1940-6 12.4 (1966): 3-25
DaCosta, Miriam. "The Use of African Folklore in Hispanic Literature. 23.1(1977)
22-29.
Derrick, A. An introduction to Caribbean Literature. 15.2-3 (1969): 65-78.
Despestre, Rene. "Problems of Identity for the Black Man in the Caribbean.
Trans. George Irish.19.3(1973): 51-61
Dunwoodie, Peter "Commitment and Confinement: Two West Indian Visions.
21.3 (1975): 15-25.(Novels in the French and English-speaking Caribbean).
Gindine, Yvette. Satire and the Birth of Haitian Fiction 1901-1905. 21 3 (1975)
30-39.
Irish, George J.A. Juan Carlos Onetti: A View of Modern Man. Parts I & II 19 1
(1973): 49-75.
--. "Carlos Fuentes: Mexico coming to terms with itself." 23.1(1977) 31-49.
Mendez, Jose Luis. "Problems in the Creation of Culture in the Caribbean.
Trans. Sheila Carter 21 1-2 (1975): 7-19.
Owens, R.J. "T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land 9.1-2 (1963): 3 10.
Pereira, J R. "Towards a theory of Literature in Revolutionary Cuba. 21 1-2
(1975): 62-73.
Soons, Alan. "Patterns of Imagery in two novels of Curacao. 13.2 (1967): 33-35
Williams, Eric. "Four Poets of the Greater Antilles. 2.4(195?): 8-15 and 8.1
(1962): 4-12.
[Nicolas Guillen (Cuba); Jacques Roumain and Jean Brierre (Haiti); Luis Pales
Matos (Puerto Rico)].
CQ's Focus on Literary Criticism
An important feature of any literature is its body of literary criticism, impor-
tant for understanding and interpreting the works of writers being studied. CQ is
replete with literary criticism of the works of many writers. Speaking of the role of
the literary critical function, W. I. Carr said:











"It is a function which ought to be seen as irrevo-
cably committed to a critical account of contem-
porary experience; its value deriving from its
sources of enquiry, works of literature. It isn't
gossip about books, it is the realization of
achieved masterpieces as related to the ways we
try to live. 8,2 (1962): 90.

This view was endorsed in an editorial by a later editor
It is important that the tradition of serious criti-
cism that is developing with respect to Caribbean
arts and letters should have the benefit of serious
inputs from those who have had their life and
being in the Caribbean and have shared the an-
guish and multi-dimensional perceptions of the
artist self and his society 23.2-3(1977). Editorial.

The following are some examples of literary criticism of the works of specific
writers:-

Brathwaite, Edward
Ismond, Patricia. "Walcott versus Brathwaite. 17 3-4 (1971): 54-71
Warner-Lewis, Maureen. "O0 doman koma kyerema se. 19.2 (1973) 51-99
Carpentier, Alejo
Cheuse, Alan. "Hamlet in Haiti: Style in Carpentier's: The Kingdom of this World.
21.4 (1975) 13-29.
Irish, George J.A. "Alejo Carpentier Regionalist or Universalist. 18 4 (1972) 57-
66
"On His Seventieth Birthday Alejo Carpentier Answers Seven Questions. 21 1-2
(1975) 88-90.
Pi, Augustin. "In Praise of Carpentier 21 1-2 (1975) 86-88.
Carter, Martin
Brathwaite, Edward Kamau. Resistance Poems: The voice of Martin Carter
23.2-3 (1977): 7-20.
Guillen, Nicolas
Coulthard, G.R. "The Emergence of Afro-Cuban Poetry 2.3 (195?): 14-17
-- "Nicolas Guillen and West Indian Negritude. 16.1 (1970). 52-57.












Ellis, Keith. "Nicolas Guillen at Seventy 19.1 (1973) 87-95.
Irish, George J.A. "Notes on a Historic Visit Nicolas Guillen in Jamaica. 21 1-2
(1975) 74-84
-- The Revolutionary Focus of Guillen's Journalism. 22.4 (1976) 68-77
Williams, Eric. "Four Poets of the Greater Antilles. 2.4 (195?): 8-15 and 8.1
(1962) 4-12.
Harris, Wilson
Gilkes, M. "The Art of Extremity Wilson Harris' Ascent to Omai." 17.3-4 (1971)
83-90.
Hearne, John
Birbalsingh F Escapism in the Novels of John Hearne. 16.1 (1970): 28-38.
Mais, Roger
Carr, Bill. "Roger Mais: Design from a Legend. 13.1 (1967): 3-28.*
McDonald, lan. "Mais of Jamaica. 16.4 (1970): 47
Ramchand, Kenneth. "Literature and Society the case of Roger Mais. 15.4
(1969): 23-30.
McKay, Claude
Lewis, Rupert, and Maureen Lewis. "Claude McKay's Jamaica. 23.2-3 (1977):
38-51
Mittelholzer, Edgar
Gilkes, Michael. "The spirit in the bottle: a reading of Mittelholzer's A Morning at
the Office. 21.4 (1975): 1-9.
Howard, J "Edgar Mittelholzer's Tragic Vision. 16.4 (1970): 19-28.
Naipaul, V.S.
Angrosino, Michael. V.S. Naipaul and the Colonial Image. 21.3 (1975): 1-10.
Argyle, Barry "Commentary on V S. Naipaul's A House for Mr Biswas: A West
Indian Epic. 16.4 (1970): 61-69.
Dunwoodie, Peter "Commitment and Confinement: Two West Indian Visions.
21.3 (1975: 15-25
Hearne, John. "The Snow Virgin: An Inquiry in V S. Naipaul's Mimic Men. 23.2-
3 (1977): 31-37
Rohlehr, F G Predestination, Frustration and Symbolic Darkness in Naipaul's
A House for Mr Biswas. 10 1 (1964). 3-11
Warner, Maureen. "Cultural Confrontation, Disintegration and Syncretism in A
House for Mr. Biswas. 16.4 91970): 70-79.










Rhys, Jean

Braybrooke, Neville. The Return of Jean Rhys. 16.4 (1970) 43-46
Roberts, Adolphe W.
Birbalsingh, F W. W Adolphe Roberts, Creole Romantic. 19.2 (1973) 100-107

Selvon, Samuel
Nazareth, Peter "The Clown in the Slave Ship. 23.2-3 (1977): 24-30
(Sam Selvon's Lonely Londoners, Moses Ascending, Those who Eat the
Cascadura ).
Walcott, Derek
Baugh, Edward. Ripening with Walcott Rev of Sea Grapes. 23.2-3 (1977). 84
90
Ismond, Patricia. Walcott versus Brathwaite. 17 3-4 (1971) 54-71
King, C.G.O0 "The Poems of Derek Walcott. 10.3 (1964): 3 30
King, Lloyd. Derek Walcott: The Literary Humanist in the Caribbean. 16 4
(1970) 36-42. *
Morris, Mervyn. Walcott and the Audience for Poetry 14 1-2 (1968). 7-21
Walcott, Derek. "Walcott on Walcott" Interview with Dennis Scott. i4 1-2 (1968)
77-82. *
Some other critical articles of a more general nature are:-
Birbalsingh, Frank. "To John Bull with Hate. 14.4 (1968) 74 82( looks at the
novels of E. R. Braithwaite.)
Brown, Lloyd W "The isolated self in West Indian Literature. 23.2-3(1977) 54-
64 (looks at the works of Lamming, Reid, Mais, Clarke, Naipaul, Walcott and
Khan.)
Carr, W I. "Literature and Society 8.2 (1962). 76-93.
-- "The West Indian Novelist, Prelude and Context 11 1-2 (1965) 71 -84
Coulthard, G C "Reflection of European Culture as a theme in Caribbean Litera-
ture. 5.4 (1959) 233 -244
Harris, Wilson "History, Fable and Myth in the Caribbean and Guyanas. 16.2
(1970): 1-32.*
Lamming, George. "The Negro writer and his World. 5.2(19"8). 109-115
-- "The Making of a writer. Interview with Reinhard Sander and lan Munro.
17.3-4(1971): 72-82.











Pearse, Andrew "West Indian Themes. 2.2 (195?): 12-23.
Ramchand, Kenneth, "Before the people became popular 18.4 (1972) 70 73 (
looks at various novels and drama.)
--. "Concern for Criticism. 16.2 (1970): 51-60.
Rohlehr, Gordon. "Some Problems of Assessment: A look at new expressions in
the arts of the contemporary Caribbean. 17 3-4 (1971):92 113 [A survey
of the poetry and music of protest springing from the mass of the people and
drawing on the richness of folk-ritual and the gut-experience of urban ghet-
toes and gully courses.] Editorial.
-- "Sparrow and the Language of Calypso. 14.1-2 (1968): 91-101
Ross, Charlesworth. "The First West Indian Novelist. 14 4 (1968): 56 60
Swanzy, H.L.V "Prolegomena to a West Indian Culture. 8.2 (1962): 121-129


West Indian Literature At UWI
It is to the credit of CQ that when the teaching of West Indian Literature
commenced at UWI in 1969, ten of its critical articles were selected as compulsory
reading for the study of Roger Mais, George Lamming, Jean Rhys, Derek Walcott
and Wilson Harris. (Articles identified with asterisk in the above listings were
those selected for critical reading.)


REVIEWS
The section of CQ dedicated to reviews of novels, anthologies, bibliog-
raphies, plays and critical essay is also of significance to West Indian Literature.
On one hand it highlights current publications in the discipline and assesses their
appropriateness to targeted audiences. It also contributes significantly to an un-
derstanding of themes and special features of particular works and may stimulate
readership interest. The reviews are therefore useful study and teaching aids and
can guide educators in the selection of appropriate literature texts.
During the first thirty years, CQ published scores of reviews and brought to
the fore insightful reviewers of the calibre of Mervyn Morris, W I Carr, G.R.
Coulthard, Edward Baugh and Edward Brathwaite who with diligence and perspi-
cacity produced reviews of lasting value.

Some writers whose works have been reviewed are:-
Brathwaite, Edward
Bethune, Lebert. Rev of Contradictory Omens. 21 3 (1975) 60-63
James, L. Rev. of Rights of Passage. 13 1 (1967): 38-41.











Pollard, Velma. Rev of Other Exiles. 23.2-3 (1977): 91-103.
Risden, Winnifred. Rev of Masks. 14.1-2 (1968): 141-147
Rohlehr, Gordon. Rev of Islands. 16.4 (1970): 29 -35.*
Harris, Wilson
Adams, Rolston. A Pursuit of Archetypes of Culture... Rev of Black Marsden.
19.4 (1973): 53 57
Gilkes, Michael. "A double vision a tabul a rasa Comedy Rev of Black
Marsden. 19.4 (1973):57 -59.
Guillen, Nicolas
Irish, George J. A. Rev. of The Poetry of Nicolas Guillen: An Introduction. by
Dennis Sardinha. 23.1(1977): 86 -87
Mittelholzer, Edgar
Foster-Davis. Rev of A Morning at the Office. 1 3 (1950): 43 -44.
Naipaul, V. S
Hearne, John. Rev of The Middle Passage. 8.4(1962): 65 -66.
Owens, R.J. Rev of A House for Mr Biswas. 7.4 (1962): 217-219.
Ramchand, Kenneth. Rev of "The World of A House for Mr Biswas. 15 1
(1962): 65-66.
Warner-Lewis, Maureen. Rev of The Guerrillas 23.2-3 (1977): 103 -105.
Rhys, Jean
Carey, Nancy "Study in the Alienation of a Creole Woman. Rev of Voyage in
the Dark. 19.3 (1973): 95-103.
Selvon, Samuel
Ibberson, Dora. Rev of A Brighter Sun. 3.1 (1953): 61
Walcott, Derek
Baugh, Edward. Rev of Another Life. 21.3 (1975): 58-59.
-- "Ripening with Walcott. Rev of Sea Grapes 23.2-3 (1977): 84 -90
Figueroa, John. Rev of In a Green Night. 8.4 (1962): 67 69.
Others
Baugh, Edward. "Towards a West Indian Criticism. Rev of Island Between, ed.
Louis James. 14.1-2 (1969): 140-144.
Birbalsingh, F M. "To John Bull with Hate. Rev. of To Sir With Love, by E. R.
Braithwaite. 18.4(1968): 74-81.













Coulthard, G. R. Rev of The Children of Sisyphus by H. Orlando Patterson. 10.1
(1964): 69-71
Morris, Mervyn. "West Indian Literature: some cheap anthologies. Rev of Carib-
bean Literature, selected and ed. G. R. Coulthard: Caribbean Voices 1 ,selected
John Figueroa; Caribbean Verse selected and introduced 0. R Dathorne; West
Indian Narrative comp. Kenneth Ramchand; Caribbean Prose ed. Andrew
Salkey 13.2 (1967):36-39.
Williams, Patricia. Rev of The West Indian Novel and its Background ,by Ken-
neth Ramchand. 16.4(1970): 80 82.


CQ's Focus on the Study and Teaching of West Indian Literature

CQ not only accommodates works representing the creative ability of
contributorsbut is also aware of its responsibility to educate its readers. In the
early issues this concern was demonstrated by those articles which sought to hone
the teaching and study skills of educators and students of West Indian Literature.
Some of these articles are:-
Baugh, Edward. "English Studies in the University of The West Indies: Retro-
spect and Prospect. 16.4(1970): 48-60.
Croston, A. K. "Notes on the Reading of Poetry 2.1 (195?): 34 -44.
Figueroa, John. "Poetry and the Teaching of Poetry ( in memorial, Francis
Drumm, Teacher, Friend,Colleague.)" 17.2 (1971): 62-81
Gray, Cecil. "Curricula, Syllabuses, and Examinations in English. 21 3 (1975):
41-54.
-- "Higgledy, Piggledy, My Black Hen: Poetry in Secondary Education" 11 3-4
(1965).
Ingledew, J. E and W I Carr "English Literature in the Caribbean: an analysis
based on results of the UWI Examination in English Literature, 1962. 8.4 (1962):
45-63.
James, Sybil. "Teaching Literature in a Dialect/ Standard Situation. 18.3 (1972):
73-76.
Owens, R. J. West Indian Poetry "7.3 (1961): 120-127 ( Criticism of anthologies
published by CQ 5.3(1958) and Kyk-over-al. 22 (1957)
Ramchand, Kenneth. "Dialect in West Indian Fiction" 14 1-2 (1968) 27-42.
Walker, Joyce "English Literature for Non-Specialist. 14 4 (1968) 25- 36.













CQ's Special Issues

An important feature of CQ is its special issues devoted to topical themes.
These provide for the treatment of a specific topic from different perspectives and
create a body of knowledge which expands the literature on particular subject.
During the period under review, 26 were published, of which 10 were devoted to
West Indian Literature. ( See Tables 1 and2)


Table 2


Special Issues Devoted to West Indian
Literature

Anthology of West Indian Poetry

Drums and Colours

Survey of the Arts

West Indian Literature

Caribbean Definitions

No given title-(Unsolicited Articles and
Poems)

Caribbean Literature

Caribbean Literature

Sources of Caribbean Literature

Literary Criticism


Volume/ Number


5.3 (1958)


7 1-2 (1961)

14.1-2 (1968)

16.4 (1970)

17.3-4 (1971)

18.4 (1972)

21.3(1975)

21.4 (1975)

23.1 (1977)


23.2-3 (1977)


Conclusion

West Indian literary development has come a long way From the fledgling
start in the post-emancipation period it now stands tall among world literatures.
This achievement over the years is due in no small measure to the sterling
contribution of our literary periodicals. CQ, though not a literary journal, played a
significant role in the exposure of West Indian literary forms. In so doing it made an
impressive contribution to the literature of the Caribbean. Its multi-disciplinary
coverage resulted in an enlightened readership among a wide cross-section of the
region and beyond.











Edith Clarke: Jamaican Social Reformer And Anthropologist1


by


CHRISTINE BARROW


Edith Clarke was trained at the London School of Economics from 1926 to
1931, during the foundation period of British social anthropology, returning to
Jamaica to join the corps of dedicated welfare reformists who were inspired by the
nationalist spirit of Norman Manley to spearhead social development. To her
vocation as an efficient public administrator, she added a deep concern with
the lives and social conditions of Jamaican people. In his preface to her classic
book, 1My Mother Who Fathered Me' Sir Hugh Foot (1970 7), then Governor of
Jamaica, declared:
I discovered that she is the most unusual combi-
nation of an able administrator and a skilled an-
thropologist, without the narrowness and lack of
sympathy which we often find amongst officials
and without the superior detachment and the ob-
scure jargon to which lesser anthropologists' re-
sort.

Her life and career derived its unique character from this dual role as social
welfare pioneer and anthropological scholar in the context of Jamaican society at
the time
The Social Reformer
As the daughter of a planter and official national figure, Edith Clarke was
born into the wealth and comfort of the Jamaican elite. A career as a pianist was a
viable option, but her family background also embraced a legacy of active social
reform and advocacy on behalf of the poor Inheriting this tradition, she too chose
a career in social service, crossing the boundaries of class and colour to confront
the realities of poverty and marginalisation.
Social conditions in Jamaica during the 1930s, along with those of most
other Caribbean countries, were appalling (Post 1978:114-148). Life in rural vil-
lages was characterized by endemic unemployment and under-employment, pit-
tance wages and deplorable conditions of work, unsanitary living conditions in
dilapidated hovels, gross malnutrition and chronic sickness. Although land had
been available for post-Emancipation peasant development, subsequent popula-
tion expansion and farm fragmentation had reduced the majority of farm families to












survival at marginal subsistence levels (Cumper 1956:271). Social structure was
little changed since Emancipation. Three caste-like strata the white elite, the
coloured middle class and the black masses remained solidly entrenched. Each
racial group knew its place and vast social distances were maintained by the
discriminatory educational and occupational system, by exclusive residential, so-
cial and domestic spheres, and by endogamous marriage. The mass of the Jamai-
can population survived in abject poverty and socio-political alienation, with little
hope that the available rudimentary primary schooling would provide the basis for
social mobility
The Caribbean was not immune to the reverberations of the Great De-
pression in the global economy The already depressed standards of living det
eriorated even further as large numbers of migrants returned to swell the ranks of
the unemployed and impoverished. By the late 1930s, protest riots broke out,
spreading throughout the Caribbean. In Jamaica, as elsewhere, they provided the
catalyst for change, sparking the growth of indigenous political parties, trade union
activity and social reform. They also provoked a critical turning point in colonial
development policy Predictably, the British Labour government responded by
sending out yet another commission of enquiry But this time the mandate was
more comprehensive and urgent. It was imperative that law and order be re-estab-
lished and, to this effect, the West India Royal (Moyne) Commission2 recom-
mended a programme of far reaching social and economic reform. The Colonial
Development and Welfare (CD&W) Office, established in 1940 as the executing
agency for colonial social reform, adopted the policy of officially sponsored social
science research on the basis that an understanding of 'native' culture and social
life would facilitate colonial rule and, more immediately, probe the causes of social
unrest (Carnegie 1992:7). In this vein, the CD&W Office commissioned Edith
Clarke's classic study of Jamaican community and family life, which is explored in
more detail below. This phase of Jamaican history in the post-war years also
heralded the struggle for nationhood and the birth of modern Jamaican society It
was an era of promise and confidence in the future, inspiring a nascent nationalist
movement which united all sections of the population.
It was this exhilarating political and ideological atmosphere juxtaposed
with the grim socio-economic realities that confronted Edith Clarke on her return
from England, prompting her to change her plans to conduct anthropological
fieldwork in Africa and to devote her life and knowledge to a career in social service
at home. She joined the Jamaican pioneer welfare workers in the vanguard of the
social reform movement, many of them volunteers working independently of official
agencies. They shared the vision of a new Jamaica, combining the Fabian liberal
creed of social and moral obligation and altruistic voluntarism3 with a dynamic
nationalism inspired by Norman Manley and the People's National Party (PNP)












Their mandate for Jamaica's future was broad-based, emphasising a multi-dimen-
sional process of nation-building, social integration and people-centred develop-
ment, which embraced an abiding faith in the birthright, the essential equality, the
leadership potential and the creative talents of all Jamaican people, the peasantry
in particular Patriotic idealism and zeal were translated into a clearly defined
pragmatism based on the principles of self-help, cooperativism and community
development. They were, indeed, the social conscience of the nation during this
period of Jamaican history, dating from the late 1930s to Independence in 1962.
These leaders in the movement for social reform defined their roles as
partners in community development: they were the facilitators and educators in the
process of nation-building. Specifically, their function, as they saw it, was to identify
and stimulate local leadership, character building and community co-operation; to
initiate skills training courses, encouraging from behind as it were a wide range
of programmes in housing, health and nutrition, sports, literacy, agriculture, cottage
industries, credit and savings; and to provide a link between the community, the
government and national development. Central to their strategy was the identifica-
tion, training and encouragement of local leadership selected from among the
teachers, clergy, politicians and trade unionists and other mainly higher status
residents of the community The institutional structure centred on Jamaica Welfare
Limited, a non-governmental organization established by Norman Manley, though
a host of other volunteer groups within which Edith Clarke played a leading role,
were established to deal with more specialist issues from youth and child welfare to
nutrition and health. Most important to their mission was the fellowship engendered
within a variety of community clubs and groups. But they also acknowledged their
own ignorance of the lives of Jamaican peoples and the futility of formulating policy
in a socio-cultural vacuum (Foot 1970:8-9). The 'Social Survey' as a tool for
gathering information on community characteristics and needs was integral to their
approach as it was, by that time, to colonial social reform policy In a documentary
account of the contribution of his father, D.T.M. ('Thom') Girvan (4), to Jamaican
social welfare and development, Norman Girvan summarizes the essence of the
approach thus:
It emphasises securing the co-operation of exist-
ing community leaders, gathering and analysing
information about local conditions, building or-
ganization and cooperation at the community
level, encouraging character and leadership for-
mation, catering to the humblest members of the
community, and using existing facilities wherever
possible (Girvan 1993:25).











The overall plan was to build dynamic and self-sustaining community
structures and strategies for development which would endure and thrive after the
withdrawal of the facilitators. Two principles were critical to their philosophy one,
that it was important to strike a balance between self-help and assistance from
outside, that it was a mistake to provide over-generous assistance to the commu-
nity, and two, that scrupulous attention to political and religious neutrality were
essential (Girvan 1993:44). Don Robotham, who describes the movement as one
of four high points of volunteerism in Jamaican history, sums up its critical contribu-
tion to nationhood and national unity
Thus the vision of self-government and the vision
of community development were seen as one. It
was the strength and power of this vision which
drew so many volunteers into the field to build
many of the voluntary organizations which we
know in Jamaica today There can be little doubt
that, without the efforts of these pioneers, Ja-
maica would have little civic sense of itself as a
nation and the assertive self-respect and pride
which are regarded as being characteristically Ja-
maican would have withered away (Robotham
1998:15).

Within this generic programme, Edith Clarke carved out her own agenda.
Her specialist anthropological knowledge of data collection procedures proved
invaluable for community surveys. Furthermore, on the basis of her intimate knowl-
edge of Jamaican community structures gained through intensive fieldwork, she
was able to caution that potential leadership figures chosen from the middle class,
though resident in the community, were not necessarily of the community More
often than not, they were 'strangers' completely isolated from the interests, activi-
ties and values of the majority by the barriers of class and colour Not only were
their cultural practices and lifestyles different, but their attitudes to other community
members were often 'autocratic' and 'patronising' (Clarke nd.).
She also chose as her special area of interest and expertise lower class
Jamaican family life, specifically the issue of fatherhood, a concern which preoccu-
pies Caribbean academics and practitioners to this day The social problem of
fatherless children pervades her written work, but it also dominated her public life.
In her various official positions, particularly as the first woman appointed, in 1956,
to the Jamaican Legislative Council, she pursued, with determination the funda-
mental human right of all children to legally and socially recognized paternity She
fought the battle initially on the legal front, advocating for the registration of fathers
on the birth certificates of children born out of wedlock. But she was quite clear in











her own mind that this was no more than a first step to inculcating effective
parenting among men and that the process of change in the Jamaican culture of
fathering would require extensive social reform.
As we might expect, Edith Clarke's campaign was directly related to the
realities of Jamaican society She was not given to moral pontification on the evils
of 'promiscuity' 'living in sin' 'unmarried mothers' and 'bastard children' as were
others of her generation and status in their promotion of Euro-centric religious
principles and 'proper' family structures. Instead, her concerns were pragmatic, to
highlight the plight of illegitimate children, who constituted approximately 75 per-
cent of all births and who were deprived of legal and, more often than not, social
paternity It was, according to her interpretation, their mothers (and grandmothers)
who struggled in poverty to 'father' them. Neither was it part of her mandate to
condemn Jamaican 'baby-fathers' for she predicted, again on the basis of her
anthropological knowledge, that the majority of men would be willing to admit
paternity, particularly immediately after the birth of the children in question when
relationships with their mothers were usually ongoing and harmonious.
But Edith Clarke's views on family life and male-female relationships were
not shared by the majority of the Jamaican elite. From the prejudices of their status
group, they stereotyped Jamaican lower class men as 'irresponsible' 'hit and run'
fathers and sought to block her proposal to have paternity officially registered. Their
perception of the mothers concerned was not much better In their opinion, the
recommended legislation would be rendered ineffective, at best by women who
would refuse to report a father for fear of disrupting their relationship with him At
worst, it would open the floodgates for women to name men who were 'good
prospects' rather than those who were the biological fathers of their children, with
the result that innocent gentlemen would suffer extreme humiliation as their good
names were dragged through the courts of the country The national daily newspa-
per predicted that:
Aged gentlemen, long past the age of indiscretion
and in any case of impeccable moral character
might find themselves so tagged, to say nothing
of hosts of lesser-known but nevertheless wholly
respectable and quite innocent gentry (Daily
Gleaner 5 August, 1958).

The Anthropologist
Edith Clarke ranks among the founding parents of British social anthrop )l-
ogy, who established their intellectual pedigree by defining their discipline as
social, thereby distinguishing it from the archaeological and physical anthropology
of earlier studies. Their subject matter was living social beings and societies as











'functioning wholes' Their attempt to fuse theory and practice constituted another
break with the past. The former generation had been split into the explorers and
ethnographers who ventured forth and recorded, in their diaries and travelogues,
descriptions of 'savages' and 'primitive peoples', and the armchair theorists who
sat at home and 'reasoned' The new social anthropologists were particularly
concerned to distance their discipline from the myopic retrospection and evolution-
ary pseudo-history the just so stories' of the latter by claiming the reality of social
life directly observed by anthropologists as the only reliable source of information
(Richards 1957:20, Dahrendorf 1995:245). In this way, they 'transformed ethnogra-
phy from the museum study of items of custom into the sociological study of
systems of action' (Leach 1957 1190) 5
Edith Clarke was one of the fortunate few who belonged to that compact
clan of students privileged to experience the launching of the discipline of social
anthropology in the classes taught by Bronislaw Malinowski (1884-1942). A found-
ing father and 'brilliant figure for quarter of a century' of British social anthropology
(Firth 1957:5) and a 'uniquely gifted teacher' who inspired a 'generation of gifted
disciples' (Lewis 1976:54), Malinowski lectured at the London School of Economics
during the 1920s and 1930s. His legacy in shaping social anthropology as a new
discipline centres on the importance of intensive and detailed fieldwork, during
which anthropologists were required to immerse themselves in another culture for
at least a year But Malinowski's deep suspicion of abstract interpretation gener-
ated an anthropology overloaded with an alarming mass of concrete documenta-
tion at the expense of theoretical analysis. Indeed, '[t]he fieldworker seemed to be
becoming a person who tried to find out more and more about more and more'
(Richards 1957:28) and who appeared to exhaust all energy in the construction of
elaborate charts and typologies in an effort to make sense of it all. Several of
Malinowski's students, including those to whom Edith Clarke pays tribute in the
Foreword to her book (Clarke 1957(1970)), namely Raymond Firth, Isaac
Schapera, Audrey Richards and Lucy Mair, parted company with their mentor's
dead-end theoretical efforts based on 'biological needs' 'function' and 'culture'
(Firth 1957 Dahrendorf 1995:246), to pave the way for the structural functionalist
model which dominated social anthropology, in the Caribbean and elsewhere, for
several decades. Yet, in one way or another, they all continued to be grounded in
the Malinowskian genre of ethnographic realism in social anthropology (Leach
1957 137).
Edith Clarke inherited the legacy of professional initiation which required
anthropologists to live as and with the people they were studying: as Lewis
(1976:54) put it, 'the doctrine that until you have lived cheek by jowl with an exotic
tribe and spoken their language fluently you cannot claim full professional status'
Her fieldwork in three rural Jamaican communities extended over a period of











twenty months and was designed to capture daily routines and seasonal variations
with accompanying booms and slumps in the conditions of life. She may not have
repeated the intensive fieldwork of her Professor in the Trobriand Islands as he
'pitched his tent among the native huts in the village' (Kaberry 1957 77), learnt their
language and shared their lives, but she does refer to 'long periods of strenuous
and exacting work' 'living as we did in the midst of our communities' (Clarke
1970:14). She also modified the tradition of the lone, isolated anthropologist by
conducting fieldwork at home and directing a team which included three colleagues
and seven field staff It is unfortunate, however, that she provides minimal informa-
tion on her fieldwork experiences, for she was one of that small first group of female
social anthropologists.
Her techniques depended largely on 'free' interviews during which inform-
ants were encouraged 'to talk on any subject of interest to them' (Clarke 1970 14).
These were complemented by participant observation and statistical surveys. The
detail is evident in her account of The Death and Burial of Mrs Malcolm and of
the preparations for marriage and the ceremony itself, in the extensive genealogies
and case studies of family relationships, and the meticulous statistical records of
the size and composition of 'residential groupings' or households (Clarke
1957(1970): 191-227). However, important as this rich ethnography is, the case
study description of the twelve days of wake and funeral for Mrs Malcolm was
merely tacked on to the end of the third edition of the book, it provides the type of
vivid description for which novelists are renowned and of which anthropologists are
often envious, but is not linked to and therefore contributes little to the substance
and argument of the main text. Similarly, the statistical record of the distribution of
household types, extending over 20 appendices, is cumbersome and hardly worth
the effort. It constitutes further evidence of the trap into which many anthropologists
of the Caribbean have fallen as they try to fit complex and varied family patterns
into a simple typology Ultimately, the proliferation of labels and types becomes
unmanageable, increasingly meaningless and an end in itself rather than a tool for
understanding family dynamics6 Nevertheless, Edith Clarke managed to avoid
much of the problem of ethnographic overload which characterized the work of her
Professor and other earlier anthropologists. The scope of her fieldwork was clearly
defined, linked as it was to a specific mission, that of providing information on
Jamaican rural family and community life for the purposes of social development. It
is likely also that by the time her generation entered the field, a clearer theoretical
formulation focused the selection and ordering of ethnographic data.
Edith Clarke kept her feet firmly on the ground. She put her anthropology
to the service of Jamaican social problems, retreating from the purist trend in the
discipline, which relegated applied anthropology to the sidelines. Charles
Carnegie's investigation reveals that she was not part of the inner circle at the












Institute of Social and Economic Research (ISER), that intellectual centre estab-
lished in Jamaica at the University College. He contends that her work was not
taken seriously until after the publication, in 1957 of her book (Carnegie 1992:10).
Nevertheless, Michael (M.G.) Smith, a research fellow at ISER and a founding
father of Caribbean social anthropology, did discuss her work with her (Hall 1997
58) and subsequently wrote the lengthy and appreciative Introduction to her book.
Her practical bias reflected with the empiricism of early social anthropology
and the deliberate rejection of history, not just the evolutionary speculation of the
predecessors, but all history The synchronic analyses of the structural functional-
ists promoted ethnographic realism and a view of societies as vibrant living wholes
in which social phenomena existed by virtue of their function in the here and now,
not as survivals of the past. A product of this generation, Edith Clarke dismissed the
search for historical explanations of Caribbean family structure as 'a dangerous,
because sterile, approach' (Clarke 1970:18). Declaring her hand as an anthropolo-
gist and social reformer, she was disturbed that:
[t]o many of those who were giving sincere and
anxious thought to the problems of the family in
Jamaica, it appeared simply as the European
family 'gone wrong' owing to a series of historical
events, the chief of which was slavery' (Clarke
1970:18).
Although her theoretical standpoint recognized the mark left by Caribbean
historical circumstance, she contended that the conditions that have shaped Ja-
maican families 'persist in present-day Jamaica and it is in conditions as we find
them today that we shall most profitably look' (Clarke 1970:21) (emphasis in
original).
In addition, she echoed the functionalist views of her teachers and advisers
who represented community structures as closely bound together and cautioned
that viable cultural patterns may 'break down' during 'culture contact' with
hegemonic colonial forms (Firth 1958:154, Mair 1975:263-4, 268). Working in rural
Jamaica, for instance, she warned of the potential disruptive impact of policies to
individualise land tenure and inheritance which, she claimed, 'strike at the very root
of kinship solidarity' embodied in the traditional principles of family land (Clarke
1957(1970): 69). But she was also concerned that cultural tenacity and resistance
might block desirable social reform. From these perspectives, then, her ethnogra-
phy provided the groundwork for social policy and her anthropology retained an
essentially practical focus. Indeed, the potential Caribbean theoretical insights that
might have emerged from her work were stifled in the process of privileging social
welfare reform. M.G. Smith, for instance, commented as she was writing up her











work that it was 'seriously handicapped by the lack of a conceptual framework
adequate to the analysis', though he seems to have failed to persuade her that his
Plural Society thesis might be of value (Hall 1997-58).
'My Mother Who Fathered Me'
Edith Clarke's book, "My Mother Who Fathered Me: A Study of the Family
in Three Selected Communities in Jamaica" was first published in 1957 The third
version was praised internationally as a 'pioneering work .of extreme fascination' 7
and confirmed its status as a classic text. It has become required reading on
student course lists, reference material for social workers and an important source
of the social history of Caribbean village life during the early part of this century
The author's dual commitment to Jamaican social reform and the discipline of
anthropology during the inaugural years of both is reflected in the pages of this
seminal study
The scope of the book is broad. It is based on intensive research in three
contrasting rural communities in Jamaica: Sugartown with a heterogeneous,
largely transient population whose well-being fluctuates according to the seasonal-
ity of sugar production; Mocca, a farming community, extremely poor but integrated
on the basis of residential stability and kinship solidarity; and Orange Grove, a
relatively prosperous, cohesive and well-organized community The study encom-
passes an anthropological investigation of community structure, household compo-
sition and family relationships; a psycho-social study of childhood socialisation;
and, from the perspectives of social reform, a comparison of community organiza-
tions and development potential. Here we can do no more than provide a fleeting
glance with a view to challenging others to revisit these issues in a more detailed
and systematic manner All of them remain critical to contemporary social research
and policy
First and foremost, My Mother Who Fathered Me must be understood in
relation to its intended purpose. It was never foreseen primarily as an academic
monograph, to test and refine anthropological epistemology and theory, but as a
'social survey' providing information on family and social life in selected villages in
order to guide social policy and community development (Smith 1970:v). Indeed,
as indicated, the study was financed from the mother country and, as such,
explicitly designed to inform the social policy recommendations which emerged
from the Moyne Commission Report.
It is remarkable that, with this objective in mind, Edith Clarke avoided the
prevailing stereotypes of Afro-Caribbean families incorporated into the prevailing
crude, pre-determined social policy prescriptions which assumed a causal link
between family structure and poverty This is evident, for example, in the work of
T.S. Simey, a respected social welfare administrator sent to the Caribbean from












Britain, which illustrates what has become known as the 'social pathology' school
of Caribbean family studies (Barrow 1996:9-11). Preceding Edith Clarke in his
investigation of Jamaican family life, he concluded, with characteristic heavy-
handed ethnocentrism and economic reductionism that it was poverty that caused
'loose'family structures, 'promiscuous' and 'transitory' conjugality and 'abandoned'
children. In contrast, Edith Clarke's studies in three rural communities or Centres,
generated a more sophisticated analysis incorporating a range of variables that
influenced family patterns, including the economic base, land tenure patterns,
community structure and levels of prosperity
Caribbean family and social policy was also misdirected by another set of
assumptions which ultimately converged to formulate the Culture of Poverty thesis,
namely that a range of self-perpetuating and self-defeating cultural and psychologi-
cal traits that make up 'cultures of poverty' including 'dysfunctional' family life, were
themselves the cause of poverty It followed that, until cultures and families were
reconstructed to conform to the ideal, no development could take place. More
specifically, social policy without properly structured nuclear families was a waste
of effort and resources, like pouring good money after bad (Lewis 1966). In effect,
the poverty-culture paradigm blamed the poor for their own poverty, justified
anti-poverty programmes which were more concerned with converting the poor to
middle class values and social institutions and, ultimately, perpetuated poverty by
denying resources to those perceived to be living in 'cultures of poverty' (Valentine
1968:14-17 69; see also Leacock 1971).
This thesis was clearly reflected in the Moyne Commission Report which,
for instance, stated that 'the policy of land settlement to which some West Indian
governments are heavily committed depends for its success on the existence of a
cohesive family unit' (West India Royal Commission Report 1945:424). As M.G.
Smith (1970:vi) pointed out, Edith Clarke challenged and reversed this premise by
demonstrating that land ownership promoted family stability and cohesion. Her
fieldwork evidence also debunked the myth popularly held by the middle and upper
classes, that 'rampant immorality in sexual relations' among the lower classes
would generate a disastrous escalation in the birth rate. She pointed out that, on
the contrary, high fertility was a function of marriage and family stability It was in
the more prosperous community of Orange Grove, not among the poor of Sugar-
town, that 'long unbroken unions have produced markedly large families' (Clarke
1970:116). Her approach to Jamaican family and community cultures was there-
fore positive, contrasting with the depressing pessimism of many others. Inspired
by a belief in the potential of Jamaican peasantries as the backbone of nation-
building, she sought to identify features of rural village life that might be encour-
aged and harnessed for development. Even in Sugartown, which 'presented itself
as a collection of disparate un-assimilated and opposing aggregates' and consti-












tuted the most 'serious challenge' to social development, she discovered energy,
opportunity, generosity and kindness, in effect potential strength in diversity (Clarke
1970:188-190).
In general terms, it is clear throughout the book that she sought to distance
herself from conclusions that Jamaican rural families were European families 'gone
wrong' as a result of slavery and other disruptive historical forces. She was not
concerned to condemn them as 'deviant' or 'dysfunctional' or to promote 'proper'
domestic structures, either in terms of Cnristian monogamy or co-resident nuclear
families as were several of her contemporaries. There is no evidence, for example,
that she joined forces with the advocates of the Jamaican Mass Marriage Move-
ment of the post-war years 8 Rather, she focused on the dynamics of family
relationships in terms of stability and cohesion. In other words, it was not the
structural facts of illegitimacy or concubinage that concerned her, but the lack of
continuity and closeness specifically in the father-child relationship.
From an ethnographic perspective, "My Mother Who Fathered Me" incor-
porated a mass of information, carefully collected and ordered. The essential
features of family relationships are vividly revealed the centrality of the mother-
child bond and its extension to the grandmother and other women of the maternal
family, the life-long duration of the mother-son bond, the tensions and potential
conflicts of the conjugal relationship, the frequency of sibling separation and the
fragility of the father-child relationship. It is this deep understanding of Caribbean
family inter-relations that explains most of all the book's elevation and tenacity as a
classic text.
But "My Mother Who Fathered Me" did not entirely escape the biases of its
author's training nor those of her class and lifestyle. They are evident in her two
models of family and community The first, emerging from the villages of Orange
Grove and Mocca, correlates marriage and stable concubinage, with family solidar-
ity, residential permanency, land ownership (notably family land tenure), commu-
nity cohesion and potential for social development. Contrasting conditions in
Sugartown, on the other hand, generate a model of family breakdown, community
disunity and problems for social development. The dichotomy is reinforced in the
labels she adopted for conjugal unions and 'residential groupings' Thus 'irregular
unions' 'denuded family households' and denudationn or tendency to broken
homes' are distinguished from the nuclear or extended households based on
marriage or 'purposive' concubinage which she adopts as the standard form.
Furthermore, this clearly defined dichotomy is not always supported by her statisti-
cal analysis. For example, there is little difference between the three Centres in
terms of the proportions of the total populations, or the proportions of children or the
proportions of the woman's outside children that live in the 'simple' and 'extended'












types of households (Clarke 1970:118). Indeed, she is left with no choice but to
express surprise at her own findings:
..if we consider households of the denuded types
as arising from the loss from a family of the princi-
pal male or the principal female member, the ex-
tent of denudation or tendency to broken homes
is almost precisely the same in each of the Cen-
tres. This is a surprising conclusion if we consider
the general economic and sociological back-
grounds of the three Centres and the different
bases on which conjugal unions are formed
(Clarke 1970:126)

Her attempt to explain away this anomaly is less than successful.
The structural functionalist assumption that family and household are
coterminous has also influenced her work. Although she began by raising the
problem for the anthropologist of distinguishing the two (Clarke 1970:28), she
ultimately opted for the household as the basic unit of analysis. Hence her discus-
sion of fatherhood gives the impression that only co-resident fathers are functional:
it is the extra-residential fathers, especially the mobile fathers of Sugartown, who
leave mothers to 'father' their children. In addition, her preoccupation with the
registration of fathers of illegitimate children led, by extension, to the conclusion
that it is they who are delinquent, while others are not. But the more recent
discourse on Caribbean men and fatherhood contests this stereotype. Roberts and
Sinclair, for example, have shown that most men in visiting unions in Jamaica
maintain close ties with the children of those relationships, spending an average of
14.5 hours each week with them. Furthermore, many of the respondents in the
study reported that 'during weekends children go to see their father and may spend
a whole day with him' (Roberts and Sinclair 1978:58).
Pre-dating the centring of feminist, women's and gender studies within
anthropology, Edith Clarke's work is devoid of 'gender awareness' On the con-
trary, she adopts the structural functionalist norm of women as wives and mothers
- at home, preoccupied with housework and child-care, dependent on and sub-
missive to their conjugal partners. The prevailing model visualised the family as an
integrated, harmonious unit, thereby ignoring important issues of engendered
power and inequality, even exploitation. It also confined women to the private or
domestic arena, thereby rendering invisible their involved ret in production and
politics at national, community and domestic levels. Clearly then, the problem for
Edith Clarke and other structural functionalists was to fit real Caribbean women into
their model. Subsequent feminist interpretations, in an effort to provide more












appropriate gendered constructs for the Caribbean, expanded women's image and
place but, in the process, more often than not merely replaced one stereotype with
another (see Barrow forthcoming). Thus Caribbean women were presented as
matriarchs and super-mothers, coping single-handedly but magnificently, in the
public arena of work and politics as well as at home. It is one of the paradoxes of
Caribbean gender imaging that the studies following this turned the discourse full
circle by portraying women, especially those who head households, as 'the poor-
est of the poor' (Massiah 1983 Barrow 1986), thereby reiterating Edith Clarke's
image of 'the position of the single mother and her children parlous and depressed
in the extreme' (Clarke 1970:127).
Also missing from Edith Clarke's work is an exploration of gender ideology
and identity which seeks to uncover the meanings of Caribbean masculinities and
femininities, of fatherhood and motherhood. This discourse has replaced the focus
of Clarke's generation on mating patterns, household composition and domestic
organization. Family and household have not disappeared from the dialogue, but
are subsumed within more extensive and flexible domains of engendered space.
Data collection methods have also changed. Like Edith Clarke, several contempo-
rary Caribbean anthropologists also encourage informants to speak freely, but they
record, transcribe and reproduce these narratives verbatim, exploring them for the
meanings and symbols of family life (Alexander 1984: Smith 1988) 9
This new literature on family ideology and practice foregrounds Caribbean
masculinities. A recent study from Jamaica, for example, reports on the centrality
of fatherhood to male self-definition, 'a declaration both of their own manhood and
their movement into maturity' though it echoes Clarke in acknowledging that this
identity as biological father is not necessarily translated into any contribution to
child support, material or non-material (Brown et al. 1993:132, 198). Work in
Barbados (Barrow 1998) has added several relevant points: firstly, that child
support is culturally defined as the joint responsibility of mothers and fathers;
secondly, that the responsibility extends to include others of the extended family,
especially those perceived to be doing better in life, thirdly, that men's support
obligations are not confined within the nuclear family, that is to conjugal partner and
children, but are dispersed within a wider network, especially to their mothers. The
bond between an adult man and his mother is reinterpreted as close, enduring and
intensely emotional, whereas Edith Clarke had dismissed it as 'exclusive and often
obsessive' a major cause of his failure to develop satisfactory relationships with
other people or achieve personal independence' (Clarke 1970:164). The Barbados
study concludes that male space may be symbolised as 'outside' but this does not
place men beyond the family Only if the functionalist misconception of defining the
family and household as one persists, does this follow.












The discourse on Caribbean fatherhood is taken a step further in Mindie
Lazarus-Black's study in Antigua i (Lazarus-Black 1995). Her argument centres on
'kinship events', such as 'going for the money' through which the meaning and
symbolism of fathering is explored and contrasted with mothering. Her analysis
shows that fathering is irregular, discretionary and can be reassigned, while moth-
ering is routine and taken for granted. It is the father's authority that constitutes real
power and his financial contribution is symbolically of greatest importance. Replac-
ing Clarke's structural functionalist conclusion that mothers step in to 'father'
children when fathers renege on what she defines as their familial role of breadwin-
ner, is Lazarus-Black's interpretation which concludes that mothers 'have never-
and do not today father children'
Conclusion
In the last fifty or so years since Edith Clarke led the way by devoting social
anthropology to the service of Jamaican social reform, a new and fundamentally
different ideology and policy for development has been forged In the process. the
contribution of anthropology has been marginalised. But the new directions are not
by any stretch of the imagination unequivocally progressive and there are lessons
to be learnt from the past. This article ends on a deliberately biased note in order to
question the practice which has grown in academic and political arenas of rejecting
the contribution of the early Caribbean nationals as 'reform within the status quo'
and stereotyping their attitudes as anachronistic and patronising. The discourse of
Caribbean social change is, and must inevitably be, one of contradiction and
reinterpretation, acknowledging the duality of reform and rebellion, accommodation
as well as resistance.
Since Caribbean countries have gained Independence, much of the spirit,
the optimism and the reality of nationhood has disintegrated. The development
agenda has become more individualistic and materialistic and less concerned with
matters of human, social and spiritual well-being, more focused on personal
success and less on family and community co-operation. In a heart felt plea for a
Jamaican national vision and the revitalisation of the spirit of volunteerism,
Robotham laments the changes in national culture. His concern is that,
'right before our very eyes, we are witnessing a
fundamental shift in the values of the Jamaican
people and that one critical aspect of this shift is
an abandonment of altruistic attitudes and the
replacement of these by a narrow individualism
based on an understanding of what a market
economy necessitates. Every man and woman











for himself or herself seems to be the slogan'
(Robotham 1998 11).

Moreover, the pioneer welfare principle of non-alignment has been re-
placed with the conviction that government is the source of all that is good for
development. Initiatives and resources are centralised and located in the political
arena, essentially in government offices in town. The plans are short-term and ad
hoc and the approach a top-down, urban-to-rural clientelism, presumably in an
effort to attract votes in time for the next election. The principles of partnership have
given way to the exigencies of patronage. In Jamaica, grassroots politics reflect the
political manipulation of the lumpen proletariat into para-military gangs 'paid by
politicians to patrol electorates and discourage incursions by supporters of the
opposing party' (Austin 1984:15). Communities and neighborhoods are split apart
by escalating conflicts of class, race, politics and territoriality as the sub-culture of
alienation and violence appears to have acquired a self-generating momentum
which those in power are helpless to control.
The Jamaican middle class, though stereotyped as such, is not and has
never been a homogeneous group (Austin 1984:20, Post 1978:98-107 205-232).
Neither has its composition remained unchanged. Most pertinent here is the virtual
disappearance of that sector devoted to social service to which Edith Clarke and
the other pioneer welfare workers belonged. What Gordon Lewis (1968 71) re-
ferred to as that 'social awakening on the part of an entire social section, not just a
few isolated individuals' has been reduced to a handful of persons, marginalised in
social welfare offices, churches and non-governmental organizations (NGOs). If
some of the scathing attacks on the middle class are to be believed, individualism,
avarice, uselessness and insularity have replaced Fabian social awareness and
commitment (C.L.R. James 1973). The established members of the Jamaican
middle class along with the nouveau riche aspirants, the 'hurry-come-ups' are
caricatured as the mimic men of metropolitan culture and style, with their unbridled
passion for 'Miami shopping trips' and as the comprador elites facilitating the entry
of foreign capital and economic control (Keith and Keith 1985), both constituting an
enormous drain on scarce foreign exchange. Living in terror of the 'slackness' and
violence of the Jamaican masses, they have withdrawn from matters of social
concern to their 'little islands of friendship' (Robotham 1998:15), barricading them-
selves and protecting their material gains in fortress-like villas, town-houses and
offices. On the other hand, Robotham's inquiries suggest that, with the change in
political complexion, there is also a push factor at work. As he puts it:
'Many people, especially light-skinned Jamai-
cans, perceive that there is a not particularly sub-
tle move afoot to sideline them, to make them feel
that they are not 'true' Jamaicans and to promote












a chauvinistic Black Nationalism as the ideology
of Jamaica today' (Robotham 1998:57-58).

The contribution of social anthropology and, concomitantly, the practice of
primary fieldwork to Jamaican social development issues also waned. At work were
two processes. The first was the submergence of anthropology into sociology
since scholars were not studying the lives of unfamiliar and exotic peoples, it was
deemed inappropriate to separate out a distinct anthropology and the parallel shift
in focus to social hierarchy and class struggle. The second was the emergence of
a persuasive Caribbean development panacea promised by economics, an eco-
nomics informed, not by first hand field experience, but by official macro-statistics
10 More specifically, the Caribbean kinship studies which followed "My Mother
Who Fathered Me, and there were many of them as scholars became virtually
obsessed with what they called 'the lower-class Negro family' in the Caribbean,
defined their main task as the construction of a theoretical framework for Caribbean
household and family composition using structural functionalism as the parent
model. Their work reflected the intellectual snobbery of those for whom social
welfare and policy were beneath the dignity of their profession and discipline. The
dialogue between ethnography and policy, so central to Edith Clarke's work,
disappeared and social workers and policy makers were left to flounder in an
information vacuum which persists to this day It is more than likely that neither
Clarke nor her contemporaries in the discipline would have acknowledged as
anthropological fieldwork the sporadic trips into villages and communities made by
many of today's transient anthropologists who maintain a social distance between
themselves and the people they are investigating, by using interpreters and taking
time off to make frequent trips to civilisationn' in nearby urban centres. Contempo-
rary development plans and policies, more often than not, rely on 'quick and dirty'
data collection methods such as the Rapid Rural Appraisal (RRA), favouring teams
of practitioners from other disciplines, namely economists, demographers and
sociologists who rely on macro-economic statistics, census figures and question-
naire surveys.
More recently, however, the macro-economic modernisation policies
adopted since the late 1950s to industrialise and diversify Caribbean economies
have come under critical review In particular, the social side-effects of increasing
inequalities of class and rural-urban residence, marginalisation and poverty crime
and instability demand the attention of policy makers and a thorough rethink of
development strategies. NGOs in the Caribbean have paved the way though they
face an uphill task with minimal resources in the battle to revive and reimage a
future based on people centred, participatory projects, and to reconfigure develop-
ment ideology and policy to foreground 'human resource development and devel-
opment from below' with communities as basic social units. The perception that












'local knowledge' is essential to successful, sustainable development is also inspir-
ing a revival of intensive anthropological methods
But all this strikes a familiar chord. The words may have changed but the
emphasis on human and natural resources, on building self-sufficient, sustainable
communities especially in rural areas, on targeting poverty and marginalised
groups such as women and children none of this is new Were Edith Clarke,
'Thom' Girvan and all the other Jamaican welfare pioneers alive today, they might
be surprised to feel a sense of deja vu as development strategies turn full circle.
The language may be different: 'self-help' 'volunteer work' 'welfare' and 'social
reform' have been replaced by concepts such as 'sustainability' 'empowerment'
and 'participatory approaches, by 'social capacity building' and 'poverty allevia-
tion' But a close examination of the new development dialogue, reveals that much
of what was dismissed as the outdated welfarism and volunteerism of middle class
'do-gooders' reappears in a new guise. The language has changed, but the
message and the agenda for social development are much the same. What the
pioneers might perceive as a new challenge in contemporary Jamaica, however is
the deterioration of the potential for community solidarity and co-operation and
what they might find missing is the climate in which they could get on with the job,
that is, one receptive to the promise of nationalism and progress for all and free
from narrow political partisanship Referring specifically to a growing 'selfishness'
and 'indiscipline' Robotham (1998 10) concludes that 'there is a general feeling
that the spirit of the times has changed and that the time in which we live is
inhospitable to volunteerism' Most critical of all, the pioneers would probably regret
the absence of a group of contemporaries who combined professionalism with a
social conscience, commitment and political neutrality Ultimately, they might have
echoed 'Thom' Girvan's lament that 'somewhere along the road we have lost
something of the vision we once shared' (Girvan 1993:401).
While those who championed the anti-colonialist movement in Caribbean
political, trade union and economic domains have been accorded full recognition in
academic and popular circles, the contribution of those others who operated more
from behind the scenes in social welfare and social development, remains largely
invisible Admittedly the movement had its weaknesses. Some of its members
were viewed as arrogant and elitist, maintaining 'a social and colour exclusivity in
their private lives while at the same time advocating social advancement for Black
people' (Robotham 1998:36). More to the point, their soft liberal welfarism empha-
sised the maintenance of stability and the status quo and conspired to deflect any
fundamental confrontation with the class and race hierarchy, the skewed distribu-
tion of wealth, land and other economic resources and the persistent poverty, all of
which had remained virtually unchanged since Emancipation. Political revolution,
economic redistribution and social reconstruction were not their mandate for Ja-













maican nationhood (Post 1978:101 ).They formed what, at best, was 'a middle class
protest seeking to mend, not end, the system' (Lewis 1968:174). But it is more than
time to restore and respect the vision and dedication of these heroes and heroines
who, in their own way, made a significant contribution to Caribbean sovereignty
and national development. From an academic perspective also, it is clear that not
all, perhaps not even half, of Edith Clarke's fieldwork was incorporated into her
book. Caribbean anthropologists and social historians might well be advised to
revisit her field notes, should these become available, in much the same way that
young British social anthropologists have taken a new look at Malinowski's records
which, in their richness and detail, provide answers to a set of questions which he
never thought of asking (Kaberry 1957 72, Mair 1975:30). Finally, this has not been
the place for a systematic evaluation of the ideas, principles and the work of the
Jamaican social welfare pioneers, nor for nostalgic retrospection, but maybe others
will derive some inspiration to continue the process of rewriting Caribbean social
history, in full.


Notes

The author wishes to acknowledge with gratitude comments and encouragement from Neville Dun-
can and Norman Girvan on earlier drafts.
2. It was popularly known as the Moyne Commission after its Chairman Lord W.E.G. Moyne.
3. For an explanation of the socio-cultural tradition of voluntarism in Jamaica, see Robotham (1998).
4. T.M. 'Thom' Girvan, was General Manager of Jamaica Welfare Limited from 1944 to 1951 and com-
mitted his working life to social welfare in Jamaica, the Caribbean and beyond.
5. Referring essentially to Malinowski, but applicable generally to the founders of social anthropology
6. See Barrow (1996:48-64) for further discussion on Caribbean family typologies.
7 The Spectator (quoted on the front cover of the 1970 edition).
8. For more detail see M.G. Smith (1970:iv-vii).
9. For more detail and readings on this new approach in Caribbean kinship studies, see Barrow
1996:160- 239.
10. See Carnegie (1992) on the demise of Caribbean social anthropology and ethnography.


References

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Austin, D. 1984: Urban Life in Kingston, Jamaica: The Culture and Class Ideology of Two Neighbour-
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Barrow, C.1986:'Finding the Support: An In Depth Study of the Strategies for Survival among Poor
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Barrow, C.1998:'Caribbean Masculinity and Family: Revisiting 'Marginality' and 'Reputation' In
C. Barrow (ed) Portraits of a Nearer Caribbean: Essays on Gender Ideologies and Identities. Ja-
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Barrow, C.. (Forth-coming) 'Men, Women and Family in the Caribbean: A Review. In P Mohammed
and C. Shepherd (eds) Gender in Caribbean Development. University of the West Indies,
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Brown, J. P Anderson and B. Chevannes 1993:Report on the Contribution of Caribbean Men to the
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bean' Niewe West-lndische Gids, 66, 1, 5-25.
Clarke, E.1957(1970): My Mother Who Fathered Me: A Study of the Family in Three Selected Com-
munities in Jamaica. London, George Allen and Unwin Ltd.
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and reproduced in the fourth edition of My Mother Who Fathered Me University Press, Univer-
sity of the West Indies, Jamaica (forthcoming).
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Dahrendorf, R.1995: LSE: A History of the London School of Economics and Political Science,
1895-1995. Oxford, Oxford University Press.
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In R. Firth (ed) Man and Culture: An Evaluation of the Work of Bronislaw Malinowski London,
Routledge and Kegan Paul, 93-118
Firth, R. 1957 'Introduction: Malinowski as Scientist and Man' in R. Firth (ed) Man and Culture: An
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quences of Class and Colour. West Indian Perspectives. New York, Anchor Press/Doubleday,
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Keith, N.Z. and Keith, N.W. 1985 'The Rise of the Middle Class in Jamaica' In D Johnson (ed) Mid-
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1945 (Chairman W.E.G. Moyne) London, H.M. Stationary Office.












Military Selection and Civilian Health: Recruiting West Indians
for World War 1


by


GLENFORD HOWE


Between 1914 and 1918 approximately 15,204 West Indians, mainly
blacks, experienced some form of military service in Palestine, Egypt, Mesopota-
mia, East Africa, France, Italy, Belgium and England as members of the British
West Indies Regiment (B.W.I R) Generally, these men were prompted to volunteer
by a combination of factors including patriotism, curiosity adventure, a sense of
duty as in the case of policemen and boys scouts, and a desire to escape some
unhappy economic or social situation. Volunteers also received significant encour-
agement from black middle-class politicians like T Albert Marryshow of Grenada
who were agitating for greater political rights and participation in government in the
Crown Colonies. These political activists saw the war as an ideal opportunity to
further their cause by linking black participation in the war to political concessions
from the British government Significantly, the men who were selected to serve in
the regiment represented less than half of those who actually volunteered. This
paper not only examines the processes involved in the selection of the recruits but
aiso, more importantly, looks at the profound impact recruitment had on public
consciousness and official policy with regard to the health problems affecting the
civilian population of the West Indies but especially Jamaica and Grenada. Its main
objective is to demonstrate some of the ways in which through the study of war and
the military important insights can be gained about health conditions, disease and
medicine of civilian populations during particular historical epochs.
At the beginning of recruiting medical and military examiners in most
territories were pressured by the press and local officials to be as strict as they
possibly could in their selection of volunteers. Against the background of intense
agitation by the West Indian public to be allowed to participate in the war it was
generally felt by the press and local officials that volunteers selected to represent
the respective West Indian colonies had to be of the highest possible physical,
moral and intellectual calibre The political considerations attached to the war by
the local reform movements in countries like Grenada and petty jealousies be-
tween the colonies, made the need to subject each volunteer to a searching
analysis even more imperative The Grenadian volunteers were instructed by the
West Indian, which was edited by Marryshow, that they were to be 'missionaries of
the island's manhood1 Examiners in Jamaica were likewise strictly warned not to












enlist persons who were unlikely to be a credit to the island or whose educational
qualifications would make them inferior in comparison with British soldiers2 Thus
to be enlisted the volunteer had at least to be able to read and write well in English.3
Some doctors tried to adhere to the selection criteria obtained from the
War Office ruthlessly and as a result frequently rejected men for the slightest
defect. In Trinidad, for example, healthy men were sent away because their chest
measurements were a fraction of an inch deficient from that stipulated by the army
regulations.4 High rejection rates were quite common throughout the West Indies
ap they were in England. Of the 2,500,000 men examined in England between
1917 and 1918, over 1,000,000 or 40% were classified as unfit for combat duty 5 Of
the 2,046 men examined in British Guiana by 1917 approximately 1,453 or 71%
were rejected and far less actually went overseas.6 The rates of rejection for the
Jamaica drafts were also significantly high. The first and second contingents had a
rejection rate of 53%, the third 58% and the fourth's was 66%.7 This increase in the
rejection rate in spite of the fact that the selection criteria was being gradually
relaxed as the demands for more men intensified, provides some indication that the
men volunteering at this point were of increasingly poor physical stock.
As early as February 1915 the selection criteria used in England had been
relaxed so that men with defective teeth were being passed as fit subject to dental
treatment which was done when the recruit joined his depot.8 However, it was not
until about May 1916 that a similar relaxation occurred in the West Indies. In
Jamaica parish officials undertook to treat men with temporary disabilities so that
they could be enlisted.9 By November the War Office had also agreed, because of
the heavy losses on the Western front, to accept men who were unable to read and
write, once they were of 'good physique' 10 This meant also that non-English
speakers from colonies like St. Lucia and British Honduras could be enlisted.11 The
officials in Jamaica had hoped that with the abandonment of the literacy test
rejections would be reduced but instead rejections for medical reasons increased.
This was despite the fact that men infected with venereal diseases were, as in
England, being accepted and treated.12 By the time the officials had terminated
recruiting in Jamaica on the 21st of August 1918 some 26,667 men had been
examined at camp although the number who actually volunteered at recruiting
meetings was much higher 13 The table below shows that 13,940 or 52.2% of the
26,667 were rejected for the reasons listed. Approximately 10,645 or 40% were
accepted and 2,082 or 7 8% were discharged or died, mainly because of disease,
after enlistment.14 No specific information was given about the diseases affecting
':hose discharged; the general description was 'Medically Unfit' The table below
shows that of the 13,054 men rejected on medical grounds the percentages were
distributed as follows, underdeveloped and underweight 28.80%, venereal dis-
eases 11.55%, skin diseases etc., 9.95%, poor physique 9.80%, anaemia etc.,











8.82%, teeth 5.40%, undersize 3.92%, flat feet etc. 3.76%, varicocele etc. 3.38%,
deformity 3.06%, hernia 2.67%, other causes 8.89%.
Table 1 Causes Of Rejections
CAUSES OF REJECTIONS No

* Cause of rejection not known 379
* Illiterate 255
* Under age 43
* Over age 96
* Refused to sign on 13
# Defective speech 63
# Flat chest 68
# Enlarged glands 84
# Periostitis, stiff joints 147
# Sundry causes 208
# Sight 230
# Rejected by M.O. as not likely 347
# Hernia, Rupture 348
# Deformity, (includes phimosis) 399
# Varicocele, varicose veins 442
# Flat feet, knock knees 493
# Undersize 514
# Teeth 706
# Anemia, heart, lungs, pulse 1,151
# Poor physique 1,280
# Skin diseases, scars, sores, ulcers 1,297
# Venereal diseases 1,512
# Undeveloped, underweight 3,765
Total 13,940
* Non-medical causes--(886); # Medical causes-(13,054)
Source: Hill, Who's Who in Jamaica, p.247
Even the most cursory glance at the causes of rejection and the high
rejection rates naturally raises questions about the health conditions in Jamaica
and West Indian society during the period under discussion. From the rejection
statistics it seems that Jamaican society was characterized by a high degree of
diseases and other health problems related to poor dietary and environmental
conditions. The picture is made even more complete when one reflects on the fact
that the army tended to prefer men who were under the age of 30.15 In any society/
this segment of the population would normally represent the most fit and healthy It
is instructive to note that 74% of the British soldiers who died during the war were












Since the male population of Jamaica between the ages of 20 and 35 at November
1916 averaged between 93,178 and 96,472, the 26,667 men actually examined at
camp could be regarded as a significant sample of that segment of the male
population even if its selection was not based on any of the scientifically accepted
methods of modern statistics. As a sample of that section of the male population
and indeed the entire population the figures certainly did suggest quite strongly that
ailments and diseases related to persistent undernutrition or malnutrition were
chronic among the working classes in Jamaica from which most of the recruits were
drawn.
The rejection statistics become even more significant when it is realized
that most of the men examined at camp, including the 13,054 rejected for medical
reasons, had been given a preliminary examination by the district or country
physicians, who at that point turned away many other volunteers as medically
unfit.17It should be noted, however, that as the war progressed and more doctors
left for the front, it became increasingly difficult to get physicians to accompany the
recruiting parties to the country districts and those doctors who remained at home
were so busy that they could not provide any assistance. As a result officers in
charge of the recruiting parties had to depend on physical tests and use their own
judgement to decide if a volunteer was fit enough to be sent for final examination at
Up Park Camp 18 Greater validity may perhaps be given to the rejection statistics
by assessing them within the context of the general pattern and causes of disease
and mortality in Jamaica during that time. Although it is now commonly recognized
by medical researchers that the incidence of disease and mortality are strongly
influenced by a variety of social and economic factors including education levels,
environmental conditions, poverty the quality and efficacy of health services,
income levels and distribution, there is also a realization that the related factor of
diet plays a critical role
In the light of this, one immediate observation which can be made about
recruitment is that the rejection statistics seem to support those doctors and social
observers in Jamaica, who argued at the time that, the diet of the working classes
was highly deficient in protein and that this deficiency was an important underlying
cause of the numerous ailments and diseases prevalent in the society In 1900
W P Livingstone who had been editor of the Gleaner claimed in his book Black
Jamaica that in general the black population was physiologically half-starved and
were frequently dyspeptics because their diet was in quantity and quality defi-
cient 1A study conducted in 1911 by the Director of Agriculture H H Cousins also
pointed out that the diet of the working classes was very deficient, particularly in
protein 20
Cousins analyzed the nutritional content of the locally grown foodstuffs
which constituted the bulk their diet, and concluded that with the exception of peas












and beans, all the local produce were strikingly deficient in protein substances, and
that the breadkind in Jamaica were almost entirely carbohydrate foods. He also
argued that this deficiency led to a 'starving and stinting of young growing persons
or the consumption of a wasteful and distensive amount of food by the matu-e
worker' 21Cousins therefore insisted that imported sources of food which he derm-
onstrated to have a higher protein value, were absolutely necessary in Jamaica
unless local production of meat was greatly increased. Many of the studies con-
ducted from the 1930's onwards would all point to the prevalence and serious
implications of protein-calorie deficiency in Jamaican society One such study done
by H.D. Chambers, a medical doctor in Jamaica, argued not only that the diet of the
poorer classes was deficient, but also that as a result their powers of resistance to
disease was not high.22 In Chamber's opinion malnutrition easily ranked as the first
cause of morbidity in Jamaica, even though its seriousness was not recognized.23
Although these studies may be criticized for lack of scientific rigour, and
failing to recognize variations in diet among the black population in terms of class,
location and seasonality, they nevertheless accurately pointed out one of the major
causes of sickness and death in Jamaica at the time. A child who is malnourished
may lag behind successively as each developmental milestone is passed and may
become physically, socially and mentally retarded.24 In fact, malnourished children
may not even survive infancy Poor nutrition was identified by doctors in Jamaica
as a significant cause of infant mortality and 20 per cent of the infant deaths in
Kingston between 1912 and 1916 were attributed to Marasmus, an extreme form of
malnutrition caused mainly by inadequate calorie intake and insufficient supple-
ment; it is also possible that deaths among older children were partly the result of
Kwashiorkor or extreme malnutrition caused mainly by protein deficiency
Perhaps more importantly, it is now well recognized by epidemiologists
that the incidence of malnutrition and infections are interrelated and can aggravate
each other Thus if one looks at the rejection statistics it would be difficult to
differentiate the root causes of the numerous skin diseases, sores and ulcers from,
for example, the cases of deformity and poor physique Similarly while, pulmonary
tuberculosis, pneumonia and diseases of the digestive system were, in addition to
outbreaks of epidemics, typhoid and influenza for example, among the main
causes of sickness and death in Jamaica, these conditions are usually terminal
events which obscure the underlying incidence of malnutrition which facilitate
deadly attacks on poor people and they also make the detection of malnutrition
more difficult. Despite this it does seem strange that there are no specific refcr-
ences to tuberculosis and other pulmonary afflictions in the rejection statistics bui
this may be because such cases were eliminated by the district medical examiners
or perhaps they were included under the heading 'Anemia, heart, lungs and pulse'.












Rejections because of venereal diseases were also significant because
they suggested that there was a high incidence of infection in all the parishes. The
percentage rejections for venereal diseases from the different parishes were as
follows, Kingston 8.6%, St. Andrew 8.1%, St. Thomas 12.7%, Portland 12.9%, St.
Mary 14.0%, St. Ann 13.5%, Trelawny 19.7%, St. James 10.4%, Hanover 15.9%,
Westmoreland 8.6%, St. Elizabeth 10.2%, Manchester 11.4%, Clarendon 11.9%,
and St. Catherine 12.1%.25 The comparatively lower figures for Kingston and St.
Andrew, the two urban parishes which were most regularly attacked by the news-
papers as being infested with venereal diseases because of the high level of
prostitution, are somewhat surprising. However, the chairman of the recruiting in
Jamaica, J.H.W. Park, might have been correct in asserting that the lower rates for
venereal diseases was not due to freedom from the diseases, but to the greater
knowledge of them in the town areas as opposed to the country 26 In any case the
rejection figures did not accurately reflect the extent of infection in Jamaica partly
because of the later practice of accepting and treating infected men. Also, medical
examiners normally checked the physical features of a recruit such as height,
weight and chest size before eventually checking for venereal diseases, which
meant that some of the men rejected for other causes would probably also have
been turned away in the initial phase of recruitment because of venereal infections.
At the same time, however, the rejections for venereal diseases may have
been to some extent understated, although the opposite could have occurred,
because of the confusion between syphilis and yaws, which are caused by related
micro-organisms and which caused some doctors in the West Indies as in Africa, to
misdiagnose one disease for the other 27 More generally, the overall statistics on
the causes of rejection also need to be accepted with some degree of caution and
not only because of the unscientific method of their collection. Complaints voiced
by elements of the rejected group were often symptomatic of a good deal of
confusion which characterized the selection process in a number of colonies. There
was often a conspicuous absence of consensus among doctors in their interpreta-
tion of the selection criteria laid down by army officials. In Trinidad, for example,
volunteers unfamiliar to the medical officers when rejected by one doctor would
simply change their names and get accepted by another 28 In other cases men
approved by district medical doctors as 'doubtful' were passed without the slightest
hesitation by the final board of examiners. Conversely, in other instances men
accepted initially without any objections were categorically rejected by the final
examination board 29
This confusion was partly symptomatic of the ignorance of these civilian
doctors of the physical requirements for the army or what it meant to be fit for
service overseas. The selection problems were also reflective of the subjective
nature of the examinations, the vagueness of the guidelines for selection and the











wide margin of discretion doctors were allowed. The desired rigidity but usual
arbitrariness may have to some extent confused the statistics although it should be
pointed out that, as in England, many more unfit men were passed as fit than the
other way around. In spite of these problems it is still possible to suggest that the
figures highlighted many of the health problems in Jamaica and reflected the
general pattern of diseases affecting the working classes.
Reactions to Rejection Statistics
What is perhaps even more important than the actual figures was their
impact on public consciousness and reactions in the various colonies to the high
rates of rejection which were widely perceived as being accurate. The figures
precipitated national debates on a variety of issues but especially on public health
and in particular the prevalence of venereal and other contagious diseases in the
region. The views expressed were similar and indeed, drew upon a parallel discus-
sion which recruitment had stimulated in England.30 The debate in England really
began in earnest during the Boer War (1899-1902) when a high proportion of the
volunteers were rejected as physically unfit for service, but the First World War
broadened and intensified the discussions. Military officials, scholars and politi-
cians alike concluded that recruitment had revealed the poor state of health and
physical condition of the British population. They viewed the degree of ill-health as
a source of national weakness and Lloyd George concluded that the revelations of
the recruiting statistics were appalling. In the West Indies expressions of alarm,
fear and embarrassment emanating from the age-old perception of disease as both
a corrupting corporeal invasion of the self and a threat to labour availability, were
the typical reactions to the rejection statistics.
The high incidence of venereal diseases was described by F R. Harford, a
member of the Grenada Legislature, as frightful.31 Though alarmed, the Federalist
was nevertheless thankful that recruitment had revealed the presence of the
'loathsome syphilis' and other diseases which were 'sapping the manhood of the
country and ruining its womanhood' 32 The paper observed that syphilitic men
reeking of death and emanating the foulest odours were walking the streets of the
town disturbing the nasal organs of the clean passer-by 33 In this way the Federal-
ist was attempting through the agency of smell and specifically foul odour, to
emphasize the image of difference between the healthy and those 'corrupted' by
disease. L.O. Crosswell, the medical officer for Kingston, Jamaica, concluded that
the high rejection rates made it evident that stringent measures were required to
meet the peril and that the vagrancy law needed to be amended su as to give the
police extended powers to apprehend vagrants of both sexes and subject them to
examination and when found necessary to segregate them for treatment.34 The
Gleaner admitted that it felt humiliated and ashamed as well as concerned for the
loss to Jamaica's and Empire's fighting forces.35











Gleaner admitted that it felt humiliated and ashamed as well as concerned for the
loss to Jamaica's and Empire's fighting forces.35
Inevitably the debate was also carried on in moralistic terms and the
prevalence of venereal diseases was viewed by some church men and self-right-
eous members of the public as indicative of a deeper moral corruption within the
society, as was manifested in the prevalence of prostitution and drinking.36 In a
letter to the Gleaner one R.E. Clarke argued that the dreadful state of affairs as
regard venereal diseases was inseparable from the utterly corrupt condition of
morals which had for some time characterized Jamaican society 37 Clarke argued
that sin against God was the root of all evil and it was for this reason that the
diseases were ravaging the community He therefore warned that 'all the legislation
in the world' could not solve the problem as the only solution was a transformation
in the sexual habits and immorality of the population. Although it is difficult to
assess from the evidence the extent to which these feelings existed in Jamaica and
the region in general, it is not unreasonable to suspect that such views were more
common among the middle and upper classes and not merely or indeed even
because of their religiosity Clarke's letter was indicative of the manner in which
family and sexual relations among the mainly black populations and especially the
lower classes, in Africa and the diaspora had been stereotyped, pathologized and
condemned as immoral by social values and medical ideas emanating out of
Europe.
Many of these attitudes were adopted particularly by the middle and upper
strata of West Indian society although by the end of the 19th century, because of
the changing nature of these pathological stereotypes and the new environment in
which they interacted after Emancipation, the West Indian elites were more careful
not to express their views too openly or frankly But this did not mean such beliefs
were still not common among these classes. This was for example made explicit in
a report on prostitution and venereal diseases in Castries, St. Lucia by Alex King
who had served as district medical officer, prison surgeon and port health officer for
over ten years. King observed: 'It appears as if the negro race has less sexual
morality than any other under the sun, and the girls take to prostitution like ducks to
water, not from lack of other employment or the necessaries of life, nor from sheer
necessity, but simply because it presents to them an easy and pleasant method of
earning a living' 38 These views were not uncommon among the Jamaican elites,
and the socialist and former Governor of Jamaica, Sydney Olivier, recalled that he
was frequently told that the black people of Jamaica were 'devoid of any morality in
sexual relations' 39
King's report went on to detail the manner in which by age fourteen most of
the girls in the town had lost their virginity usually through intercourse with boys as
young as ten. Once they had been 'deflowered' the girls then entered fully into











prostitution with two or three of them renting a room in common, while others were
exploited by older women or had their clients brought to them by the group of boys
known as 'Wharf-Rats' 40 King's report was fully endorsed by the Chief of Police
G.J.L. Golding who called for drastic legislation to deal with the problems of
venereal diseases and immorality which he thought were reflected in the fact that
although the population of the town was only 8,000 there were as many as 200
women living wholly or partially on the proceeds of prostitution mainly with sol-
diers.41
This attempt by both King and Golding to link the prevalence of venereal
diseases in Castries with the number of alleged female prostitutes in part reflected
the historical construction of female sexuality as being particularly dangerous and
a threat to society In the West Indies, as in Europe, women were seen as morally
responsible for sexual relations and therefore the spread of sexual diseases. This
attitude towards women was for instance expressed by the Gleaner which argued
that the sailors from the warships and the local volunteers were frequently the
'victims' of women who spread infectious diseases in and around Kingston.4 The
sailors and volunteers, being male, and members of the military forces were not
held responsible for their actions. It was as if they had a right to engage in
prostitution without being affected by any of the health risks.
The debates in the region were also expressed in environmental terms
which was not surprising since many church men, health workers and others,
tended to associate poor social conditions like overcrowding with high levels of
immorality 43 Against this background one writer in a letter to the Gleaner argued
that while religion could be helpful in controlling the problem of immorality and
venereal diseases, the real solution was to undertake a major improvement in the
public environment.44 To this end he instructed the authorities: 'Make the condi-
tions of life sweeter and cleaner, have a brighter and better education system,
make the people happy; give them something to live for and you have solved the
problem, not only of the dread disease, but also of the worst forms of immorality' 45
He was convinced that these objectives could be achieved if greater emphasis was
placed on cricket, football and other sports as well as on education and productive
employment.
In retrospect, the most significant aspect of his contribution was, perhaps,
the adoption of the 'enlightened' view that making venereal disease notifiable as
advocated by some persons would frighten victims of the disease from seeking
medical advice, cause a great deal of domestic unhappiness, if not actual tragedy
and could place their jobs in jeopardy 46 In adopting this position the writer was
clearly demonstrating a deeper insight into the more complex and fundamental
issues relating to the social construction, stereotyping, and representation of dis-
ease. His comments pointed to consequences of the tendency of many societies to











project the diseased as the stigmatized 'Other' who was not only different but
moreover symbolized the society's worst fears of social degeneration.47
The controversy in Jamaica became even more alarmist and urgent when
it was discovered that many of the volunteers had contracted the diseases after
they had been enlisted and put into training. One spontaneous check on the 30th
of June 1916 revealed an infection rate of 58 per thousand and another on 30th
August showed that the figure had increased to 136 per thousand.48 It is worth
pointing out that the average infection rate of British and Dominion soldiers in
Britain between 1916 and 1918 was 39.2 and in Egypt 48.1, but it should also be
noted that if the countries were analyzed separately it would be found that the rate
of infection among the Dominion forces was at times strikingly high.49 Further
embarrassment was experienced by local officials when the War Office started to
make complaints about the large numbers of men infected with venereal and other
diseases being received overseas. They were regarded by the War Office as a
serious threat to the health of the troops in France.
When the 8th battalion B.W I.R. comprising 22 officers and about 1,000
other ranks arrived in France it was immediately segregated in camp because of an
out-break of Rose measles and the prevalence of other diseases.50 Approximately
20 per cent of the battalion were infected with various forms of ringworm and many
were infected with hookworm. Of the 406 men from Trinidad in this battalion, 60 per
cent were found to be infected with hookworm. It also seemed that many of the
men in the battalion had not been re-vaccinated against smallpox since childhood
and anti-typhoid inoculation had only been partially done. Consequently, anti-ty-
phoid vaccine was obtained from the United States so that all recruits could be
innoculated before leaving the West Indies. The authorities in France also esti-
mated that 20 per cent of the recruits of the 9th B.W.I.R. which had been recruited
in Jamaica were suffering from venereal diseases at the time of their arrival
overseas.51 Similarly, when a group of 985 B.W.I.R. men arrived in Egypt on the
2nd November 1916, it was discovered that no less than 139 or over 14 per cent
were suffering from venereal diseases.52 Although the local medical examiners
might have been negligent in their scrutiny of recruits there were other factors
which contributed to the arrival of infected recruits overseas.
Firstly, even though the understanding of the pathology and aetiology of
venereal diseases had improved significantly during the 19th century, there re-
mained a strong likelihood of misdiagnosis. The intermittent nature of syphilis, for
instance, may have caused some medical examiners to believe that the disease
was cured when it had only gone into remission. Secondly many recruits con-
tracted venereal diseases on the eve of their departure from the West Indies. Army
regulations stipulated that the recruits were to be examined the week prior to, the
day before embarkation, the day before disembarkation, and upon arrival.53 The












Jamaican officials contemplated confining the recruits during the week prior to
departure but they could not implement this radical solution because, as the
commanding officer admitted, confinement beyond a day or two would have had to
be enforced by the 'butt and bayonet' and would have led to 'more than resent-
ment' 54 However, recruits at training camp in Jamaica were strictly warned and a
scale of punishments introduced for those who contracted sexually transmitted
diseases.55 Local medical officers were also warned by the War Office to increase
the effectiveness of their inspection and intensify the process of vaccination and
innoculation among the volunteers.56 Thirdly, some of the infected men of the 9th
battalion had been accidentally sent overseas because of a lack of communication
between the staff and the medical examiners in Jamaica. Some 127 men who had
been examined and put aside 'from embarkation' were sent overseas without the
doctors knowledge because the staff had mistakenly taken the instructions to mean
'for embarkation' 57
While the decision to accept and treat men with curable diseases might
thus have been good for the local societies it had negative implications for the
health and efficiency of the troops overseas, and involved a considerable loss of
time. Importantly, however, throughout the West Indies the campaigns to eradicate
various diseases such as yaws and hookworm infestation or ankylostomiasis were
given additional impetus by the revelations of the military examinations but it was a
question of venereal diseases or the 'Black Evil' which gained the most serious
attention. A number of colonies including Grenada and Jamaica hastily enacted
legislation to deal with the problem. The Grenada ordinance was passed by the
Legislature on the 24th of August .1917 Among other things it provided for the
compulsory notification of those suffering from venereal disease and made it a
criminal offence for an infected person to deliberately infect another 58 Additionally,
persons who failed to attend for treatment were liable to be prosecuted and forcibly
subjected to treatment. The penal clauses of the ordinance were brought into force
since women especially were generally reluctant to come forward to be examined
because of the shame and intrusiveness involved. 59 A variety of drugs were used
to treat venereal diseases but the main ones were mercury and salvarsan which
was sold under various trade names such as arsenobenzol, arsenobillion, kharsi-
van and diarsenol.60 There were a number of ways to administer salvarsan which
incidentally was also used to treat yaws, but most doctors apparently preferred to
inject an aqueous solution of the drug intramuscularly
Public lectures were undertaken to sensitize people to the seriousness of
the disease problem and notices were posted throughout the colony offering
rewards to any one who notified on infected persons who had failed to report for
treatment.61 Penalties were instituted to prevent malicious accusations against
innocent persons but this sometimes proved ineffective. Much to the anger of the











importance attached to notions of respectability especially among educated blacks
and the middle strata of West Indian society, to be stigmatized in this way was
unquestionably a distressing experience. Because of the small size of most colo-
nies the doctors would obviously have been aware that their actions could be
seriously embarrassing especially to 'respectable' citizens and would no doubt
have exercised their power only after careful consideration. Nevertheless these
'respectable' persons were sometimes summoned by the doctors.
An extensive programme of treatment was also speedily implemented in
Jamaica and legislation based on the Grenada ordinance was enforced.63 Special
evening clinics were held twice weekly at the Kingston Public Hospital in order to
cope with the large numbers of infected persons. Between February 1917 and
January 1918 approximately 6,722 were treated at these clinics and thousands
more were treated at the country hospitals.64 Nevertheless, the effectiveness of the
eradication scheme was, as in Grenada, negatively affected by the 'tendency to
secrecy and concealment' which medical officers found difficult to overcome.65
Fines were imposed to prevent anyone other than the doctors treating the dis-
eases. These fines were targeted mainly at the bush doctors, obeahmen and
'experienced friends' who many people first consulted before eventually going to
the medical doctors. The fines were intended to have the double effect of encour-
aging infected persons to come forward and more crucially, of asserting the
centrality of Western biomedicine over indigenous healing practices which were
regarded by the authorities as largely ineffective and obstructive.
The clergy were also requested to impress upon the lower classes of
Kingston and Lower St. Andrew the need to come forward for treatment.66 Mem-
bers of the friendly societies infected with venereal disease promptly lost all their
benefits and in most cases were barred from attending meetings.67 Moreover, in
1917 the Jamaica Social Purity Association was formed to achieve 'the furtherance
of social purity in the colony by combating immorality and venereal diseases.68 The
organization's committee was dominated by prominent members of the clergy and
branches were established throughout the island; the annual subscription was two
shillings and sixpence. Recruitment for the war thus helped to highlight the problem
of contagious diseases and stimulate corrective measures in several West Indian
societies although this should not be exaggerated. The problems associated with
treating the population were by no means minor or easy to overcome. Real
progress in the fight against venereal diseases was not made until after the war but
especially during and after the Second World War, when penicillin revolutionized its
medical treatment.69














Notes And References


The West Indian, 19 September 1915, p.4.
2. The Jamaica Times, 5 June 1915, p.18.
3. Ibid.
4. The Port of Spain Gazette, 25 August 1915, p. 11
5. J.M. Winter,, 'Some Aspects of the Demographic Consequences of the First World War in Britain'
Population Studies, Vol.30, No.3 1976, p549.
6. C.O.318\344 Memorandum of H.T Allen on Recruiting, February 1917
7 The Gleaner, 8 March 1917, p3.
8. W.G. Macpherson (ed.) Medical Services General History, Vol.1, London: H.M.S.0, 1921, p135.
9. Stephen Hill (compiled by) Jamaica: Who's Who in Jamaica,1919-1920, Gleaner, 1920, p241
10. lbideg., on the first day of the Battle of the Somme, 1 July 1916, the Allies suffered 20,000 casual-
ties and between July and Ncvember approximately 420,000 casualties were registered.
C.O.318\344\8314 War Office to Colonial Office, 14 February 1917
12. Hill, Who's Who in Jamalca,1919-20,p241
13. Stephen A. Hill, Who' s Who in Jamaica, Gleaner, 1920, p247; For details on the termination of
recruiting in Jamaica see, C. 0. 1371730\14951 War Diary of Local Forces.
14. J.H.W. Park, 'Note on the Causes for Rejections of Volunteers for the Jamaica War Contingents',
in EDw. R.C. Earle and L.Oliver Crosswell (eds.), The Jamaica Public Health Bulletin, 1917
Jamaica:Times, 1918, ppl4-19.
15. Winter, Demographic Consequences pp550-551
16 Hill, Who's Who in Jamaica' 1919- 1920, p246.
J H.W Park, 'Note on the Causes for Rejections of Volunteers for the Jamaica War Contingents',
in Earle and Crosswell (eds.), The Jamaica Health Bulletin, 1917 pl5.
18. Hill, Who's Who in Jamaica' 1919-20, pp241-242.
19. W.P Livingstone, Black Jamaica, London: Sampson, Low & Marston, pp176-177
20. See, C.O.137\717 Six-Monthly Report on the Work carried out in the Government Bacteriological
Laboratory March to September 1916. Enclosed in Jamaica despatch dated 11 November 1916.
21 Ibid.
22. H.D Chambers, Yaws, London: J.A. Churchill, 1938, pp79-81
23. Ibid. p.vii (preface)
24. J.M. Gurney, Malnutrition in Jamaica, Seminar paper located at the (Caribbean Food and Nutrition
Institute Library, Jamaica) 1973
25. Park, Note onr the Causes for Rejections, p16.
26. Ibid.
27 See for details on the confusion, H.D. Chambers, 'Further Light on the "Yaws-Syphilis" Problem'
Reprinted from Transactions of the Royal Society of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene, Vol.31
No.2. July 1937 pp245-250; Megan Vaughn, Curing Their Ills- Colonial Power and African Ill-
ness, Cambridge: Polity, 1991
28. 'The Difficulty in Recruiting' The Mirror, 3 March 1916, p4.
29 Ibid.
30. J M Winter, 'Military Fitness and Civilian Health in Britain During the First World War', in Journal
of Contemporary History, Vol 15. No2, 1980, pp209-244













31 The West Indian, 6 July 1917 pl.
32. The Federalist, 11 July 1917, p3.
33. The Federalist, 18 May 1918, p3.
34. Report on the Sanitary condition of Kingston for 1916, in The Jamaica Public Health Bulletin,
1917, p189
35. The Gleaner, 22 October 1915, p8.
36. Ibid., See also, The Gleaner, 24 July 1916, p8.
37 'The Social Evil in Our Midst' Letter from R.E. Clarke, The Gleaner, 8 April 1916, P1 This letter
may have been from the Rev. Edward Clarke described by Stephen Hill as a simple-minded ear-
nest, religious man of evangelical principles; He died in 1917 (For details, see, Hil, Who's Who
in Jamaica, pp369-370)
38. C0.321\283\38926 Report of Alex King, Health Officer on Prostitution and Venereal Diseases in
Castries, St-Lucia, enclosed in Haddon-Smith to Law, 26 July 1915.
39. Sydney Olivier, Jamaica: The Blessed Island, London, Faber, 1936, p372.
40. These 'Wharf-Rats' were the groups of young boys between the ages of ten to fifteen who were
usually found begging, stealing, pimping around the various port towns of the West Indies.
41 C0.321\283\38926 Report of G.J.L. Golding, Chief of Police, enclosure 2 in Haddon -Smith to
Law, 26 July 1915.
42. 'What is to be done ?' The Gleaner, 24 July 1916, p8.
43. This connection was, for example, explicitly made in a discussion of the poor housing conditions in
Grenada. See, the West Indian, 13 September 1918, pl.
44 'The Black Evil' Letter from G.E, The Gleaner, 14 April 1916, p14
45. Ibid.
46 It is instructive to note that one of earliest legal measures adopted to combat contagious diseases
in Jamaica was the 1910 Yaws Notification Law. Under this law, rural constables were em-
ployed to seek out and persuade affected people to undergo treatment in the out-patients' clin-
ics. See, Gisela Eisner, Jamaica 1830-1930 A Study in Economic Growth, London:University of
Manchester Press, 1961,pp342-343.
47 For an authoritative treatment of these issues see, Sander L. Gilman, Disease and Repre-
sentation: Images of Illness from madness to AIDS, Itaica and London, Cornell University
Press, 1988.
48. The Gleaner. 20 January 1917 p 14.
49 W.G. MacPherson (ed.), Medical Services: Diseases of the War, Vol2, London: H.M.S.0 1923,
pp118-119
50. C O.318\344\44010 War Office to Colonial Office 3rd September 1917
51 W. G. Macpherson (ed.),Medical Services (General History) Vol.2 1923, London: H M.S.0, p146
52. C.O.318\340\56610 War Office to Colonial Office, 25 November 1916.
53. M.S. Stone, The Victorian Army:Health, Hospitals and Social Conditions as encountered by Brit-
ish Troops during the South African War, 1899-1902, Unpublished PhD Thesis, I.C.S. Univer-
sity of London, 1992, p230.
54. C.O.137\720\12455 Minute of General Officer Commanding Troops, Jamaica, 9 February 1917
55. 'More stringent measures', The Gleaner, 25 July 1916, p8.
56. Ibid.
57 MacPherson, Medical Services: (General History) Vol.2, 1923,pl40.
58. C.O.321\295\48584 Haddon-Smith to Walter Long, 5 September 1917; /bid.,enclosures, 'Minutes
of the Legislative Council' 29 June 1917 to 24 August 1917.













59. C.O.321\300\1170 'Report of colonial surgeon on working of the V.D. ordinance' enclosed in Had-
don-Smith to Walter Long 9 December 1918.
60. MacPherson, Medical Services: Diseases of the War,Vol2,1923, p140.
61 C.O.321\300\1170 'Report of colonial surgeon on working of the V.D. ordinance' enclosed in Had-
don-Smith to Walter Long 9 December 1918.
62. The Federalist, 11 October 1919, p3.
63. C.O.137\725\20299 Manning to Long, 30 March 1918
64. C.O. 137\725\20299 Extracts from the Annual Reports of the Medical Department and the Central
Board of Health, 1916-1917 enclosed in Governor Manning to Walter Long, 30 March 1918.
65. Report of the Island Medical Department for the Period ending March 1919, in The Annual Report
of Jamaica (together with) The Department Reports 1918-19. I.C.S. Archives, p143.
66. Ibid.
67 C-0-137\722\38886 Manning to Long, 17 July 1917
68. J.C. Ford and F Cundell, Handbook of Jamaica, 1919, Jamaica, Government Printery, 1919,
p536.
69. See for details on the development of penicillin and its impact on the treatment of diseases
Claude Quetell, History of Syphilis, Cambridge:polity in association with Blackwell, 1990, p248-
272, For the initial use of Penicillin in Jamaica, see, Jamaica Colonial Report for 1946,pp43-44
During the Second World War the question of venereal diseases again became a major issue in
the region. For the Trinidad case see, Michael Anthony, Port of Spain in a World at War, 1939-
1945, Trinidad: Ministry of Sports, Culture and Youth Affairs, 1983, ppl93-197.












Cultural Retrieval among the Garifuna in Belize an exercise in
continuing education


by


JOSEPH PALACIO



Introduction
An essential aim of the University of the West Indies as envisaged by its
progenitors, the members of the Irvine Commission, was engaging in outreach
(Sherlock and Nettleford 1990). The University has lived up to this mission during
its fifty years under the aegis of the Department of Extra-Mural Studies, which in
1989 became the School of Continuing Studies. A primary reason for the success
has been flexibility, given the diversity of the population the University services
(located within 14 territories of the English speaking Caribbean) and the equally
wide academic background of the faculty in the School of Continuing Studies. In
the non-campus countries the Resident Tutor, the University's in situ repre-
sentative, carries out his/her programme based on what he/she can do with
available resources. My own bias is on community development.
Underlying the flexibility there is a strong sense of intellectual enquiry
about outreach, which seeks to answer the following fundamental questions:
* How are we as members of the University leaving an impact on the larger so-
ciety who, while not having access to the services of campuses, are no less
sponsors and beneficiaries of the University?
* What methods of delivery are we refining?
* How does what we do contribute to the body of knowledge called (continu-
ing) education?
The fact that Resident Tutors and others do not address these issues
sufficiently in conferences and academic writings is less a factor of lacking answers
than being burdened with the unending demands of the job that have increased in
geometric proportions within the past few years.
I know quite well that such exigencies leave hardly any time for the
reflection necessary to see the forest of continuing education beyond the trees of
individual workshops and courses. Indeed, it has been five years after doing the
project that I describe in this paper and while preparing a paper for a major regional
conference on traditional health that I reflected on the remarkable coincidence of











anthropology, the subject of my academic formation, within the scholarly scope of
continuing education, my chosen career It has been truly a product of hindsight to
arrive at the conclusion that the thrust of anthropology closely mirrors the mission
that underpins continuing education.
With its singular dedication to the holism of human society anthropology
includes in its intellectual armory an abiding concern for details. It thrives on
investigating who is doing what, why, how and when. To deal with such minutiae it
has over the years developed several approaches, methods and conceptual orien-
tations. This in turn has enabled it to address the logic of enquiry in varying degrees
of epistemological sophistication. In short, not only does it pre-dispose one to
appreciate the wide scope of continuing education it also provides a wide range of
tools to engage in the tasks required for research, teaching and analysis.
In this paper I describe a workshop on re-learning traditional skills that the
University of the West Indies School of Continuing Studies mounted among the
Garifuna in Belize in 1989. There is some emphasis on the context and the
mechanics that we applied to it as an exercise in continuing education. There is,
therefore, ample material for comparative purposes directed toward colleagues in
continuing education. But it was also an exercise in cultural retrieval, an attempt to
help the Garifuna validate their culture after being taught not to appreciate it during
the past two centuries. Finally it is an essay attempting to link two primary
orientations arising from my dedication to both anthropology and continuing educa-
tion.
Anthropology and the Garifuna
If there had been no anthropology, those interested in the study of the
Garifuna would have invented it, so much does it fulfil the curiosity pivotal to the
discipline about the beginnings of a people and their trajectory over centuries.
Also called Black Caribs, the Garifuna number about 200,000 and are found on the
Northeast coast of Central America in Belize, Guatemala and Honduras from
where several thousands have migrated to U.S. cities. They are indigenous not to
Central America rather to the Eastern Caribbean where their two sets of ancestors,
Arawaks/Caribs and maroon African slaves intermixed. The root population num-
bering 2,026 were shipped by the British in 1797 from the island of St. Vincent in
the Eastern Caribbean to Central America (Gonzalez 1988:21).
The enigma of the Garifuna as a people with a culture born from two
distinct traditions, Amerindian and African, but integrated into one identity with its
own language, food, religious rituals and worldview has been discussed in several
volumes. The following are some of the main themes from the anthropological
literature. The first is on the formation of a People through biological and cultural
fusion on the one hand: and on the other the continuous process of self re-definition












in response to various external forces 2(Gonzalez 1988 and Gullick 1985).The
second is the strength of the consanguineal bond in kinship and household forma-
tion (Gonzalez 1969 and 1984: 1-12; Kerns 1984) This topic was a forerunner to
the current widespread interest in gender studies. The third and related theme is
the transcendence of bonds between migrants, who may be thousands of miles
away, and kinfolk remaining in home countries (Gonzalez 1979, Palacio 1991
119-146 and 1992: 17-26) Again,, this topic foreshadowed the interest in studies
on migration and transnationalism (Georges 1990 and Glick-Schiller et al 1992).
As the studies have mushroomed and satisfied the arcane in the intellec-
tual community, they have promoted extensive dialogue among anthropologists
and other social scientists. Such dialogue, however is exclusive of the Garifuna
themselves because the studies have not been transposed into their vernacular It
is ironic, therefore, that there is an inverse correlation between the growth of
studies on the Garifuna and the strength of their self-identity as a people. To a
large extent the marginalization and deleterious effect on self-image has been the
result of racism by political and military authorities in their respective countries
toward them among other minorities. It makes it even the more necessary to ask
the question why anthropologists have not adequately engaged their informants in
the teaching/learning process necessary for self-discovery This is a task that falls
more particularly within the realm of continuing education. Here stems the need to
explore the close fit between the information forthcoming from the anthropologists
and the practice of continuing education.
The teaching/learning context
While the anthropologist has not seen as high priority the need to educate
informants about themselves local educators are guilty of a similar omission. They
have not isolated the culture of the students as a main point of departure. Both the
anthropologist and the educator have not heeded the message of Paolo Freire that
the immediate environment of the student should provide the main ingredient for
education. Even more damaging both are overlooking Freire's further call that
education should be the key to the self-realization and ultimate liberation of the
student (Freire 1973). Popular culture particularly the technologies used in
handicrafts, traditional medicine, and food procurement has not been on the
curriculum of schools in Belize and the rest of the CARICOM region. In accepting
the challenge to teach some of these previously unteachablee" skills we were
treading on new grounds. Hence, the necessity to describe the aims underlying the
project, division of labour, the setting of the workshop, and the mechanics of the
teaching/learning process.
As the director of the project my training in anthropology and role as
facilitator of Continuing Education coalesced making it difficult to discern where












one ended and the other took over. My main aim was to enable the Garifuna to
retrieve aspects of their culture as subjects. In doing so I wanted them to learn
about the process as much as possible breaking the norm that outsiders should
assume educational initiatives about the Garifuna as objects. It was not only the
slippage of culture that concerned me. After all it is an inevitable and pervasive
component of culture change. It was the concurrent loss of possibilities for eco-
nomic self-sustenance. In short, my rationale for the project was that to encourage
revival of interest in traditional culture could lead to developing marketable skills
and products, which in turn could contribute to the economic development of the
community. It is particularly challenging in communities where there is hardly any
tradition of generating cash income locally
For generations, the potential for a sustainable and endogenous economic
base had been eroded within Garifuna communities although they have been
inserted into the wage labour sector even migrating thousands of miles to other
countries in its pursuit. The Garifuna are not unique in this chain of events.
Discussions I had with colleagues working in the Atlantic Coast of Central America
revealed that this was recurring to other marginalized peoples throughout the
subregion. It was more precipitous there than in Belize because of cataclysmic
violence during the decades of the 1980's. But it was always not certain what could
be done to capture the latent spirit of cultural revindication that existed among such
groups and to frame it within an overall programme of economic development. My
quest for a link between cultural revindication and economic activities lead to my
close association with the National Garifuna Council, a grassroots organization that
incorporates advocacy among other objectives for the development of the Garifuna
in Belize. Simultaneously I arrived at more defined strategies for intervention after
discussions with colleagues in anthropology, popular education, and community
development especially those with experience in Latin America.
While the aim for the project was a distillation from several stimuli, the
specific objectives were more clear cut. They were to carry out hands-on skills
demonstration for students led by master artisans; document the procedures using
fieldnotes', still photograph, audio/video equipment; encourage students to pro-
duce at least one item from start to finish; and to promote the learning of other
aspects of the culture arising from a total immersion within a Garifuna village for a
period of six days. Should the students learn enough to produce items for sale,
that would be an added endorsement of our aim for economic development.
Towards this end we invited the Belize Rural Womens' Association (BRWA) to
assist by providing classes in marketing. I envisaged that all students would learn
at least one technology and that some would be sufficiently motivated to focus on
the entrepreneurial aspect for their own income generation.











I took upon myself responsibility to access the cash necessary to expedite
the project. It took the usual route of proposal writing followed by personal contacts
with potential sources in Belize City Invariably the response was that it was a good
and timely idea. But it had not been done before and may not be successful; by
focusing on one ethnic group among several others it may encourage further
cleavage among Belizeans; and it did not fall into the parameters of specific
agencies. Bureaucrats at the decision-making level in funding agencies have a
predictable response format to such requests. The primary item of expenditure was
providing the main daily meal which took about one-quarter of the total budget of
almost $10,000 Bze. The participants provided the other two meals on their own,
as part of their investment in the workshop. The second largest item was honoraria
to the instructors. The third was contribution toward photographic supplies. Our
main sources of funds were the Belize/Newfoundland Linkage and BRWA. The
participants paid registration fees. Finally, the School of Continuing Studies con-
tributed substantially in both cash and kind.
There was one important resource that we requested and was granted to
us most willingly It was someone to videocamera the procedure to capture
especially the hand movements as a powerful method of documentation. We
made the request to the Extension Division of Memorial University in St. John's,
Newfoundland, as part of a reciprocal exchange between the University of the
West Indies School of Continuing Studies in Belize and Memorial funded by CIDA.
Arriving with camera and other equipment in hand, Mr Fred Campbell accompa-
nied us for the total duration of the field school. His technical skills and affable
personality contributed to the success of documentation via the camera.
Long before the field implementation we had agreed with the National
Garifuna Council that it would take responsibility for the logistics of the workshop.
It included selecting the students, the skills to be taught, the teachers; as well as
planning the day to day schedule of activities and the progression of the teach-
ing/learning process. Through visits to ten communities the president and other
members of the executive mobilized the larger membership of the Council. As a
programme about which the National Garifuna Council had often dreamed but
could not implement, the workshop was truly an idea that was long overdue. In
their enthusiasm members made suggestions how to maximize their participation.
Through its membership the National Garifuna Council became the mechanism to
guarantee participatory involvement in the project.
The Village Council of the Garifuna village of Hopkins accepted to host the
field school. They had done so to a similar workshop that we had sponsored two
years earlier in 1987 The homogenous Garifuna character of Hopkins made it
appropriate for our purposes. More master artisans live there than in other Gari-
funa communities. Besides it retains a traditional cycle of daily life where the early












part of the day is set aside for chores while there is easy socializing during the
evenings. We duplicated this pace within the daily schedule of the workshop.
Finally there were several families who agreed to host students from other commu-
nities.
The Mechanics of Teaching/Learning
Four men and five women taught various skills during the workshop.
Except for three women who were younger than forty the others were older than
fifty-nine. Two of the men were over seventy years. All of them had learned on
their own and perfected their expertise over several years. To us they were the
teachers the master craftspersons. Our contractual arrangements included that
they would provide materials and tools; teach their skills; and in some cases use
space within their yards as "classroom" They did hands on demonstrations
repeating it several times if necessary while explaining what they were doing. Their
patience in dealing with beginners was truly remarkable.
The skills were subdivided into five sets of technologies, each with its own
type of materials Johnkuno mask; Johnkuno crown; vegetable materials such as
leaves, barks and reeds; stone-on-wood; and assorted materials used to make
dolls.
Two technologies provided adornments for the Johnkuno dancer a mask
and head-dress. The mask is shaped out of a sieve which is implanted manually
on a wooden mould and painted. The head-dress starts as a crown made from
cardboard on which are pasted decorations of feathers, colourful crepe paper
streamers and mirrors. (seeAppendix 1)
Several items in the traditional Garifuna household have a vegetable
source such as leaves, reeds and thin strips of vine bark. The most common are
thin bark strips all of which are plaited, sometimes in one design or combining
different materials and colours to create contrasting designs. The resulting prod-
ucts include hats and sleeping mats as well as utensils such as baskets, flat
strainers and cylindrical strainers used to separate the poisonous acid from bitter
cassava. Similarly finished items are still found among aboriginal peoples in the
Eastern Caribbean and in the Orinoco/Amazon basin.
The grater is used in processing a variety of food items, such as coconut
and root crops yam, cassava, ginger, coco, etc. It comes in two main sizes, a
shorter table top model and a larger one about 3 ft. in length over which the user
stoops. The backing is wood usually mahogany into which small bits of limestone
are inlaid providing a tough serrated edge. During the workshop students worked
on smaller models.












The art of handmaking dolls had almost become obsolete before its revival
by workers in the home economics division of the government Community Devel-
opment Department in Belize. The teacher in our workshop had re-learned the
trade in this revival. Her dolls were made especially to appeal to tourists looking for
portrayal of typical Garifuna features. Although it was not a traditional technology,
we included it in response to the students' request.
The least traditional technology that became available as the workshop
progressed was handling the video camera. Fred Campbell, our Canadian cam-
eraman, taught a few participants who were interested. It was a most welcome
bonus to some of the boys.
The daily numbers of students for the entire five-day workshop fluctuated
between 40 and 75. They were mostly women between the ages of 17 and 24
representing nine Garifuna communities throughout Belize. Remarkable was a
group of older women from Dangriga who participated as enthusiastically as their
younger counterparts.
Although there is gender division in traditional Garifuna technologies the
students were advised not to take this into consideration in making their choice of
what to learn. They worked as groups with individual masters and each was
encouraged to perform at least one item. Most accepted the challenge, some
working for hours on their items. The incentive was to display one's product at an
exhibition at the end of the workshop and to win one of the prizes offered.
Workshops took a greater part of the day In the early evening students
gathered at the community centre building for organized social activities featuring
folklore, chanting, dancing and lecture/discussions. The villagers themselves
joined these events as participants and spectators- As grand finale there was a
variety show where groups and individuals displayed talents in a friendly competi-
tive and festive manner The standing-room-only audience included scores of
villagers.
An exercise in Continuing Education and Cultural Retrieval
The workshop ended as it started with a formal ceremony complete with
speeches and songs. The participants filled in their evaluation forms. Some of the
recurring statements were as follows:-
a) Happy that something was finished but need time to learn all skills
b) Many thanks to the masters who were such excellent teachers.
c) Women have taken interest in crafts and should keep it up.
Generally, most people were appreciative of the experience and wanted to
repeat it in the near future. The appreciation was mixed with genuine surprise.












Many had not anticipated that within a few hours they could learn the basics of a
traditional technology What had not been taught formally within the school system
not only could be taught and learned; it could be learned quickly while having fun in
a group. To a large extent the workshop had been a classic case of popular
education, one of the most effective methods of conducting continuing education.
There was a culturally appropriate setting; the richness of group interaction through
encouraging each other to learn; and the use of song, dance and skills to enhance
the intensity of fellowship. At the end the emphasis was less on the intellectual
aspect than on the socio-psychological. The impact of actually having learned
something was probably felt more afterwards than during the workshop itself,
when showing items off to family and friends.
Within this context of continuing education, cultural revindication remained
as an underlined force. It is probably best expressed in this statement by one of the
participants in the evaluation. Garifuna needs to appreciate his knowledge and
wisdom and his cultural way of doing things, along with his unique way of mastering
his own environment utilizing its resources for his survival. There are so many
other skills we have but we have to make the effort to learn them. The skills had
merely become media to recapture moments within a cultural frame that had long
been denied to the participants. The intensity of the impact arose from the partici-
patory nature of the workshop. As Garifuna, the participants assumed almost full
control of the process as subjects. In this regard the role of the masters as
intermediaries was pivotal. It needs some elaboration.
Despite their mastery in aesthetic talents, the master craftspersons oc-
cupy low status in their communities broken only by occasional requests for their
handiwork for which they receive little wages. The workshop broke this monotony
The University of the West Indies requested them to perform and paid them a
retaining fee for the few days. Persons from other communities sat at their feet to
learn from them. Such validation was a pleasant and heartening surprise. In
discussion they admitted that although they were always willing to teach, the youth
had showed only minimal interest. The workshop, therefore, gave them an oppor-
tunity for optimism especially as a few were well advanced in age and already
affected by chronic illness.
Through their participation the unique role of the masters as bearers of
cultural tradition was vindicated; and it did not end at the workshop. Participants
from one of the villages invited one of the masters to spend a few weeks with them
so they could have more time to learn what they had already started in Hopkins.
Subsequently one of the students from that group has himself acquired a high
level of expertise in plaiting thin bark strips into utensils.











Our own experience with the power of video in depicting how to re-create
dying skills led us one step further With advice, we mounted a special project to
re-do all the technologies in a staged manner and making special effort to include
other details that we had missed earlier The result is a full length 120 minute video
broken into segments; and done specifically as a self-teaching tool. Copies are
available through the School Of Continuing Studies in Belize.
Finally in 1993 we launched a similar workshop among another ethnic
group, Belizeans of Yucatec Maya origin. Because there were several similarities
with Hopkins, we were much prepared to deal with them.
Conclusion
Conducting workshops is the staple of the Resident Tutor's life. The
logistics that we applied in this one were similar to those in scores of others. What
made this workshop different were the mechanics the media of teaching, the
skills, and technologies. The technologies are particularly significant being primar-
ily primitive with roots in the Pre-Columbian Amazon rainforest and West Africa, in
the case of the Johnkuno adornments. Also worthy of mention was the use of the
video-camera as tool of documentation, with focus on the intricate hand move-
ments.
If the mechanics of the workshop were interesting as relatively exotic ways
of teaching/learning, there are other aspects of this workshop whose importance
arise from examining the broad horizons of continuing education. One is the
philosophical underpinning that may accompany a project in continuing education.
Here it was Freire's liberalizing ethic on education where the student engages in
the serendipitous cycles of self-discovery as subject. This in turn led to exploring
two conceptual linkages in the study between cultural revindication and economic
development and between social anthropology and continuing education.
The collective feeling of being victorious in having re-captured bits of their
quickly disappearing material culture was ever present among the participants.
And it became our own yardstick of measuring the workshop's success. The
additional expectation that participants would also become inspired to engage in
the skills as an economic enterprise was certainly too ambitious for this workshop.
Having observed some of our graduates' handiwork several months afterwards, we
could now move to the next phase of perfecting the skills focusing on quality control
and methods of marketing. The lesson we learned was that the experience of
re-learning old skills is so intense that by itself it fills a five-day workshop. Other
skills, although they may be related, need another workshop.
There was more success in forging links between the two disciplines of
anthropology and continuing education. In its barest outline the project isolated
elements in the material culture of the Garifuna and "packaged" them as teaching













lessons for the beginner Informants who normally provide information about
material culture themselves became either teachers or students of it. The proce-
dure necessitated a familiarity with both fields. Even more it needed a predisposi-
tion to use a variety of methods, chief of which was participation by the students
themselves. Ultimately the beneficiaries were people whose taxes help to maintain
the University of the West Indies but rarely participate so actively within its ample
resources.


References


Freire, Paulo, 1973 :Education for Cntical Consciousness. New York: The Seabury Press
Georges, Eugenia, 1990 The Making of a Transnational Community: Migration, Development, and
Cultural Change in the Dominican Republic. New York: Columbia University Press.
Glick-Schiller, Nina, L. Basch, and C. Blanc-Szanton, eds.1992: Towards a Transnational Perspective
on Migration: Race, Class, Ethnicity and Nationalism Reconsidered. New York New York Acad-
emy of Sciences.
Gonzalez, Nancie,1969:B/ack Canb Household Structure Seattle University of Washington Press.
Gonzalez, Nancie,1979.Garifuna (Black Caribs) settlement in New York a new frontier International
Migration Review XI11:255 263.
Gonzalez, Nancie,1984:Rethinking the Consanguineal Household and Matrifocality Ethnology XXIII
(1): 1 12.
Gonzalez,Nancie, 1988 Sojourners of the Caribbean-ethnogenesis and ethnohistory of the Garifuna
Chicago: University of Illinois Press.
Gullick,C.J.M. R,1985 Myths of a Minority the changing traditions of the Vicention Canbs Nether-
lands: Van Gorcum, Assen.
Kerns, Virginia,1983: Women and the Ancestors: Black Carib kinship and ritual. Urbana :University
of Illinois Press.
Palacio, Joseph 0.1991:Kin ties, food and remittances in a Ganfuna village in southern Belize. In
Diet and Domestic Life in Society, eds. Ann Sharman et al Philadelphia: Temple Press pp 119 -
146.
Palacio, Joseph 0.1992: Garifuna immigrants in Los Angeles: attempts at self-improvement.
Belizean Studies Vol. 20 (3):ppl 7-26.
Sherlock, Philip and R. Nettleford, 1990: The University of the West Indies a Caribbean response to
the challenge of change. London: Macmillan Caribbean.












Appendix I


Materials, Tools, and Methods for Technologies
WANARAGUA (Johnkuno Mask)
Materials: wire sieve, thin strip of metal from cheese can, paint
Tools: shears, hammer, mould of Johnkuno face,knife, pliers, small mallet, stool
for working bench, paint brush
Methods:
1. Cut strip of metal from cheese can
2. Place the wire sieve on the mould and tack on the mould using shoe tacks.
3. Use tacks and hammer to impress on the sieve the nose, mouth, and other
contours of the face.
4. When finished forming the face, cut off the mask from the mould.
5- Place the thin metal along the edge wrapping it tightly
6. Paint the mask with the colours of the white man's face and leave to dry The
paint helps to harden the sieve.
WABABA (Johnkuno Head-dress)
Materials: cardboard pieces, crepe paper, cloth, material, glue, bird feathers (or
painted turkey feathers), thread, paint, tying wire, small and round glass mirrors.
Tools: Needles (small and large), scissors, and stapler
Methods:
1. Cut from cardboard the profile of the head with an elongated crown.
2. Measure the piece around the circumference of the head to make sure that it
fits. Leave the elongated part in the front.
3. Cut two strips to be used as handles on either side of the crown. They are also
called ears.
4. Cover the crown with cloth and then sew
5. Tie feathers on the top of the crown with wire.
6. Place paper roses made from crepe paper on the crown to decorate it.
7 Tie the mirrors between the crepe paper roses.
8. Try the headdress to adjust.












GOUNWERE (Materials used to make baskets,
hats, strainers, pataki, and other utensils made by plaiting strips of vine bark)
Materials: Two or more types of vines all cut under appropriate phases of the
moon to ensure durability; cord string.
Tools: knife, matchete, rubber knee pad, file, work bench.
Methods:
Step I Preparing the strips for plaiting.
Cut one of the vines into 18" lengths. Split each piece into 4 quarters. Remove
the inner flesh with a sharp knife until you reach the bark. The tough flexible bark
is the material to be used. For a strainer 10 inches, in diameter 85 strips
18inches long are needed.
Step 2 Plaiting
Place 9 pieces of the 1811 length strips lengthway and face up.There has to be
an odd number Always start from left to right.
Pick 2, skip 2, pick 2, skip 2, and pick I
Pick 1, skip 2, pick 2, skip 2, and pick 2
Skip 2, pick 2, skip 2, pick 2, and skip I
Pick 1, skip 2, pick 2, skip 2, pick 1 and skip I
By now a pattern will have started to form. Just follow the pattern set until you
reach ten inches or the desired dimension. Remember that one must always be
skipped either from the left or right. Sprinkle what has been done so far with
water to hold it together and stabilize.
Variations on this basic occur depending on the end product.
EGI (Stone Grater)
Materials: a piece of mahogany board measuring around inches by inches by I
inch thick; chunks of granite called cimeral in Garifuna.
Tools:4 inch nail, hammer, sandpaper, old machete, file, and hatchet.
Methods:
Step 1 preparing the cimeral
Cover the granite with a sack and break into pieces with hatchet. sledge ham-
mer, or axe. Collect the small fine chips and place in a container ready to use.
Step 2 getting the rough serrated edge












Punch half inch holes at a distance of quarter inch apart on the board.Place fine
chips into each hole and beat gently with a nail tip and hammer Keep brushing
the fine pieces off the board. Test the strength and the sharpness by grating co-
conut on it.
NADU (Reed Mat)
Materials:dried reed stems cut from the swamp, cord, and four sticks.
Tools: machete and file.
Method:
Set up an upright rectangular frame with the sticks. Have eight strings running
perpendicular Place four reed stems with heads aligned one way on the strings
and tie. Always remember to place four heads on one side and four on the other
side in alternating pattern.
BAISAWA (Brush)
Materials:About five heads of dried salt water palmetto, cord
Tools:long sack needle, thimble.
Methods:
Scratch the palmetto in straight strokes from the head downwards. Continue do-
ing so until it is thinned out in fine strands. Tie about five heads together with
cord to form brush.












Jamaican Drumming Styles


by


MARJORIE WHYLIE


The drum, in Jamaica, has pride of place among most if not all instrumental
ensembles. There is very strong evidence of the survival of African features in this
small segment of the New World, most importantly the emphasis on rhythm and the
preponderance of drums and other percussion instruments.
These survivals are strongest where there is an overall supporting African
tradition. Playing the most important role in keeping these musical traditions alive
is religious ritual of which drumming is an integral part. The drum salutes gods and
ancestral spirits, it accompanies dance, controls possession, attends celebrations
and ceremonials for the dead, provides the rhythmic support, the heartbeat for
rituals of healing, and is present through the stages of life.
Types
The range of drums is fairly wide in Jamaica from the specially con-
structed to rather simple improvised instruments. The materials from which the
drums are made are usually those found upon the land or easily accessible within
the environment. Some are carved out of solid logs; others are made of shaped
strips of wood or barrel staves held together by metal hoops and fittings; still others
are various hollow vessels and utensils which are used as substitutes for con-
structed drums.
They come in a variety of shape -cylindrical, semi-cylindrical, tapered or
square and vary in size from those a few centimetres in diameter to those more
than a metre tall and a metre in diameter
They may be single headed, open ended, or double headed with skins at
both ends. Drum heads are fixed to the bodies in various ways:
* nailed to rims, tied with withs,
* affixed by pegs which can be pushed in or out to regulate tension
* attached to a hoop or flesh ring which is held in place by cords: laced to the
pegs
* laced by cords to another skin at the other end and affixed by metal rims
and fittings
* fitted to a frame












Playing Methods
The techniques of playing the drum are chosen according to the sonorities
of the drum and the kind of sound which is desired.
Some are held in the armpit, some are suspended from the neck, some are
held between the knees, others are straddled and played with both the hands and
the feet which act as dampers. There are hand-played and stick-played drums. In
applying the hand, one may use the cupped hands, palm, fingers, fingers and palm,
base of the palm or the thumb.
Drums are most often played in pairs to ensure the desired pitch contrast,
and gender relationship, and are accompanied by struck, rasped, stamped or
shaken percussion instruments to add texture and density.
The Drums
1 The most common drum found in Jamaica is the Rattler/ rattling/ kettle/ kete/
kittling drum a double headed instrument made from barrel staves, empty oil or
paint tins with goat skin heads. The heads are attached to rings which are laced
together across the body It varies in size from 30cm to 45cm in diameter and may
or may not have a snare and is played with two slender sticks, carried in the armpit
or suspended from the neck. The Rattler is used for REVIVAL, BRUCKINS
PARTY JONKUNNU, MAYPOLE DANCES, GERRER and played as the lead
instrument in conjuction with the -
2. Bass drum, constructed similarly to the rattler but larger and played with one
padded stick.
*Revival (see notation)
3. Repeater the lead drum of the BURRU set may be constructed from barrel
staves or an empty paint can. About 30cm high and 20cm in diameter, it is open
ended with one goat skin head affixed by metal rim and fittings or by a flesh ring
laced to a tension ring at the other end. It is accompanied by the -
4. Fundeh of similar construction and hand-played but larger and the
5. Bass drum, a slight variation on the bass drum mentioned before. The head
protudes at least an inch above the rim. Also played with a stick, but it is the
Repeater and Fundeh of Rastafarian music that is most well known.
6. The Repeater/Pita is an adaptation by Rastafarian drummers of the Burru
instrument. Made of barrel staves or hollowed from the trunk of the coconut palm,
it is a taller more slender instrument with metal fittings.
7. The Fundeh has been modified in the same way.











8. The Rasta bass drum is a large instrument also made of barrel staves with metal
fittings. It is held in the lap or rested on a supporting frame to be played and is
played with a padded stick.
*Rasta (see notation)
9.The ire' an instrument used for ETU is simply an empty oblong oil-tin which is
held between the knees and played on one side with the fingers.
10.The Achaka/Katta the lead instrument of ETU closely resembles the Rattler but
has a more elongated body, is held between the knees and played with the palm,
fingers and thumb.
*Etu (see notation)
11 .A descendant of the KA drum of West Central Africa is the Tambo drum. The
Tambo drum is of hollow-log type (although instruments made of barrel staves
have been seen) with pegs inserted in the sides. The pegs pass through slits in the
skin and are hammered to stretch and tune the skin. The player straddles the drum
and plays with the hands and heel.
*Tambo: Mabumba/SaleonelShay-shay (see notation)
12. The playing cast is the lead instrument of the KUMINA set. Cylindrical, open
ended, it is made from a hollowed log.The head fixed to a rim is held in place by an
outer rim of withs which is wired and nailed.
The Drummers
Traditional drummers play an important role in their communities. They are
virtuosos, but specialists in their own traditions. As such, they are deeply aware of
the significance of each variation in tone, volume, tempo and intensity Jamaican
traditional drummers for the most part have developed virtuosity through long years
of training and devotion to the art.
In some traditions as in ETU, the drumming skills remain in one family, and
the knowledge is passed from father to son, or from uncle to nephew (Drumming
in Jamaica is still a man's prerogative rather than a woman's.)
In other traditions, a fairly long period of apprenticeship is served on a
less-important drum or percussion instrument before the position of master drum-
mer is assumed.
The drummer must learn a wide repertoire of beats and must be familiar
with a vast literature of songs. This is especially true of ritual drummers as
characteristic drumbeats relate to specific movements, are related to specific
songs, invite the presence of gods and ancestral spirits, and encourage or repel
possession of the faithful.












In many instances as in BRUCKINS and ETU, the lead drummer is also the
lead singer
During ritual observances, it is the priest who dictates, but it is the drummer
who initiates and controls the pace, who controls the fervour, the relaxation or
tension of the participants. The drummers must make the dancers move as one;
must direct or drive, must be compelling and insistent; must lift to heights of psychic
excitement and then relax and return to this reality
The Rhythms
I have notated basic, simple approximations of the characteristic Jamaican
drum rhythms mentioned. These are by no means an adequate representation of
the variations to be heard throughout the island, but should serve as a point of
deoarture for further work which would have to be done in workshop sessions.

Notations



HAS IA




rn dchakWn i







TAMRO
M-,-b' 0 - -\


Sh.y-,h.,y a I ,
4 \ \
KUMINA
Kb,,andu 4 r












Forty Years Outside The Walls: Towards An Evaluation Of The
Extra-Mural Department Of The University Of The West Indies
In The Non-campus Territories 1948-1988


by


HOWARD A. FERGUS



The 1945 Irvine Committee which guided the establishment of the Univer-
sity of the West Indies, recommended the setting up of an Extra-Mural Depart-
ment. Both came into being in 1948. It is to that Committee's credit that it
conceived of the extra-mural unit as an integral part of the University, bringing i:s
influence to bear on the life of the colonies, and functioning as an intelligence and
feedback mechanism on the intellectual requirements of its far-flung communities.1
By advocating that the head of the Extra-Mural Department be given professorial
status and a senate seat and that Resident Tutors (RTs) be bona fide members of
the university staff, Irvine emphasized the importance it attached to extra-mural
work. It was part of the total process of what an English Director of Extra-Mural
Studies called bringing "the university to the people when the people cannot come
to the university" 2
As stated by the Principal, Philip Sherlock who was himself a member of
the Irvine Committee, the extra-mural mission was to:
* encourage and assist men and women to understand their rights and respon-
sibilities as citizens of the British Caribbean;
* encourage and assist men and women to lift their standards of thinking and
living;
* encourage social cohesion and to help men and women to live in harmony by
the use of methods involving group work; by the study of society, its history,
structure and economy;
* increase personal competence, especially among those in positions of re-
sponsibility and leadership such as officers of trade unions, civil servants,
teachers and pupil teachers, extension workers in agriculture, community de-
velopment, health services and co-operative societies;
* promote objective inquiry and informed thinking, which is information plus
critical thought....and to aim at building up public opinion by inculcating good
taste and standards of excellence.












There was general agreement that the Extra-Mural Department was to
concern itself with manpower training, including personal competence for quality
living and nation-building. These are worthy goals even if there was no common
understanding of what the scope of manpower training was supposed to be. What
seemed to be lacking was a realistic appreciation of the cost of programmes
designed to attain these ends. Persons reportedly welcomed the establishment of
the University Centres as a means of decentralizing the university and spreading its
benefits, but without adequate resources, the skeletal infrastructure of a Centre
could not effectively fulfil the grand, but reasonable tasks assigned.
This article evaluates the work of the Extra-Mural Department in the
present non-campus countries (NCCs) in the light of these aims as well as emer-
gent conceptualizations of the outreach goals of a university which serves a
number of developing countries. The rest of the article is structured in three
sections which coincide roughly with three chronological periods in the develop-
ment of extra-mural work. The first runs from 1948 to the early 1960s and
coincides with the pre-autonomy period of the University College of the West Indies
(UCWI); the second runs from the mid 1960s to about 1978 and coincides with the
building of University Centres in each territory and the appointment of RTs; the third
runs from 1978 to 1988, and is the period of external studies and university
restructuring. A fourth and final section makes concluding comments.
Establishment and Experiment
A Department of Extra-Mural Studies was an English idea with the first
term used being University Extension. It meant providing part-time and extra-mu-
rally, the kind of training which approximated as closely as conditions allowed, to
what obtained inside the university 4 While vocational training was not ruled out,
the programme emphasis was on lectures of a cultural nature. It is instructive that
the first Director of the Department stipulated that courses should not include
acquisition of skills such as typing.5 In this, he was faithful to the Irvine Report
whose chairman was the Vice-Chancellor of St. Andrews. The Report had point-
edly explained that certain extra-mural courses should be "essentially educative
rather than vocational" suggesting a polarity that is not always tenable. It is readily
understood, therefore, why the early extra-mural programmes had a metropolitan
orientation and a liberal education bias. The model was Oxbridge which had
pioneered university extension work in England.
Fortunately, the RTs were not dominated by the received model. True, the
first history course organized by the St. Lucia Extra-Mural Unit was "English Social
History of the Fourteenth Century" and courses such as "On Reading Literature"
"Psychology and Self Expression through Drama" were typical offerings. But RTs
were soon conscious of the need to adapt. Like Andrew Pearse, the English











Resident Tutor of Trinidad and Tobago, the RTs appreciated that the English model
had to be reinterpreted and adapted to suit Caribbean conditions.6 Arriving in
Castries soon after the Castries fire which destroyed several buildings, RT B.H.
Easter saw it fit to teach not only music appreciation, but building construction as
well. The habit of departing from the rubric, written or unwritten, to meet perceived
needs is an entrenched extra-mural tradition.
In the formative years, emphasis was correctly placed on tutor training and
social surveys. As the Director reported, the first few years were years of study,
observation and experiment. RTs rejected hunch and guess work as proper
methods of assessing community needs. In 1949, there were training courses for
tutors in Antigua and Grenada; in 1950, it was St. Kitts' turn, and British Honduras
(Belize) began its programme with lectures in adult education. In 'training' his
tutors, F.W. Case, the Leeward Islands RT admonished them to approach their
subjects in an objective manner and with a sense of moral and intellectual
integrity 7 The RTs not only conducted intensive surveys to determine what
courses persons wanted, and from which groups the greatest demand came, and
related questions, but the earliest courses were treated as pilot studies from which
lessons for planning were deduced. The decision in those pioneering days not to
take the skills of adult learning and teaching for granted or to decide on people's
learning needs on the basis'of either inspiration or informed arrogance has continu-
ing lessons for today's extra-mural work.
Foundations were well laid in this first period, the potential of the Extra-Mu-
ral Department was revealed and some success scored. The public lecture, the
course of lectures, and secondary education type academic classes dominated the
programme. With scarce resources, including one RT only for each of the Leeward
and Windward groups (correspondents, usually grammar school head-masters,
were appointed in the non-resident islands) the public lecture sometimes delivered
with the aid of slides, was a favourite programme, and lecture courses were in
keeping with English extra-mural tradition. The table below demonstrates the
scope of the class programmes by 1966. In the 1965-66 academic year, Antigua
delivered 12 public lectures, Bahamas 9, British Honduras 26, Dominica 18,
Montserrat 10,. St. Kitts/Nevis/Anguilla 35, St. Lucia 18, and St. Vincent 36. The
approximate aggregate attendance ranged from 606 in Montserrat to 3,295 in St.
Vincent.8
Utilising the results of the surveys, commendable attempts were made to
assist certain professional groups such as teachers (courses in psychology for
instance, were targeted at them). In 1964 for instance, Montserrat was instructing
teachers for College of Preceptors examinations. This kind of in-service training
was particularly welcomed at a time when some territories had no teacher training
colleges. Perhaps a weakness of the programmes, especially in the infant years -













a weakness common to the adopted model, was the small appeal they had for the
working classes. The latter did, however, attend film shows and choral music was
available to them at the level of appreciation at least. By 1963-64 though, the Vice
Chancellor noted in his Report that the expanding class programme in the Wind-
ward Islands had begun to embrace a wider number of rural areas.

Table 1 Class Enrolments 1965-1966

1'olii Men Women 70",, class. Men Women

Anliguai 1.036 288 7-18 00) 155 1-I1
Baal.n;is 563 393 170 279 192 8)
Ilri I lond 201 130 71 72 15 17
I ... ..... i 38.1
(Grellid 269 138 13 230 117 119
Monlserral 319 91 228 252 76 176
SI.KillsiNel. 131 38 93 107 29 78
Anguilla
SI.VinceCil 215 1.19 66 112 72 .10
IOIAILS 3.121 1227 1.510 1.667 686 9S I

Source: Adapted from Vice-Chancellor's Report 1965-1966 p 65.

If the foundations for success were fully laid by 1964, government and
other official support may well have been a vital factor Heads of State served on,
and in some cases, presided over territorial advisory committees. Government
endorsement and co-operation were further evidenced in the willingness to provide
accommodation for Extra-Mural offices and later, land on which to build homes for
Resident Tutors. It is worth emphasizing that the Directors were able persons with
some vision of Caribbean adult education needs, and were not trapped by the
received British model of Extension Services another reason for success.

Development in the Middle Years

By 1965, the University was still granting London University degrees, but it
had gained its autonomy since 1962, the year significantly, when two of the
territories it served, Jamaica and Trinidad gained political independence from
Britain. Nearly all of the others would advance to statehood in association and
some to full independence later The move towards self-rule and sovereignty was
on In this period, the Department would post RTs and representatives in all
territories, and build Extra-Mural Centres starting in Antigua in 1967 Education in
this period was characterized by a search for relevance (a cliche, but meaningful
albeit) as part of the search for sovereignty itself. It was the period when territories












established their own teachers colleges and steps were taken to institute a Carib-
bean Examinations Council.
Extra-Mural Centres had to be affected by all of this ferment and innova-
tion. They challenged and stimulated the Centres. Within the resource con-
straints, this period was one of deepening and development and efforts were made
to serve national development ends. The Sherlock concept of Extra-Mural work
was, consciously or not, the guiding ideology T W.J. Taylor, the first Principal of
the College, had seen RTs as "the local representative of the University, its outpost
and its public relations officer, dealing in the first instance with applications for
admission, enquiries about syllabuses and a multitude of details" 9 Operating as
administrator and functionary, RTs did these things well, but they acted from a
broader remit as professional educators and academics. (Let it be noted en
passant that this ambivalence towards the Resident Tutor's role was always with
the Department. When Dr Patrick Emmanuel recommended that RTs be re-chris-
tened Associate Registrars, which was reportedly not endorsed by all RTs, he was
somewhat in the Taylor school. But this designation would be only valid if the
activities of RTs were drastically revised).
The extra-mural programme developed new emphasis and directions in
1960s and 1970s. The 0- and A-level academic classes peaked, an aspect of
extra-mural which should not be underrated at a time when secondary education
was selective and elitist, resulting in a vulgar kind of social stratification. The public
lecture was an easily organized programme filler, but the lectures became more
relevant to cogent concerns and less dependent on the fortuitous presence of a
potential lecturer in an island. The Montserrat RT judged in 1965 that "lectures
had become part of the social and educational life of Plymouth the capital" 10
Leading up to the 1966 general elections, he provided a series of lectures entitled,
"The Citizen and the Law at Election Time" In St. Vincent, topics of politico-eco-
nomic relevance such as "Devaluation of the Pound and its Implications for the
Caribbean and St. Vincent Imports in Particular" (1967) and "Is St. Vincent Ready
for Statehood?" (1968) featured in public lectures.
Guided by notions of relevance, and responding to perceived needs at the
periphery, the RTs did not allow the Irvine Commission's idea of a liberal education
type adult education programme to stymie their initiative. They acted on the belief
that after appreciating Shakespeare and music and learning stage craft, people
had to be fed and housed and therefore adult education should legitimately help to
give people essential life skills. So courses and workshops of a vocational nature
such as dress making, toy making, typing, food preservation, paediatrics, handi-
crafts, agriculture, secretarial arts and accounting for small business were organ-
ized. In some cases such as food preservation, on-campus expertise was drawn












on. In this and in other courses, the University Centres began to be used more
directly in this period as outreach conduits of the central university.
This rejection of received 'orthodoxy' for a broad church concept of extra-
mural work brought the university to more of the people not only to teachers, but
taxi drivers; not only to pharmacists, but to farmers. The tendency to organize
workshops, seminars and thematic lecture series, often for special interest groups,
also ensured a wider community catchment. Family life, parliamentary procedure
and home nursing are some of the courses from which persons of varying occupa-
tional levels benefitted government ministers, youth leaders and unemployed
women to name a few groups. A conscious effort to spread the work into rural
areas especially in territories like Dominica, St. Vincent and Grenada, also helped
to popularize the services of the department. In 1965-66, the Dominica RT did
work at La Plaine, Salybia and Grand Bay and took a travelling library to the north
of the island twice monthly.
In this period of expansion, work at the Centres developed both in extent
and excellence. Drawing on the skills of staff tutors based at Mona as well as on
indigenous talent, extra-mural centres have regularly mounted workshops in
drama, music, dance and creative writing, and have housed many an art group.
University Centre-based arts festivals were annually staged in both the Leeward
and Windward Islands in the 1960s on a peripatetic basis. Folk songs and stories
were recorded in rural Dominica. The RT of St. Lucia formed a Creative and
Performing Arts Society in 1966 which was later incorporated into a company, and
in 1972-73, the dance section gave 30 performances in hotels and on tourist ships
"and brought much income to the society" 11 A folk singer group founded by the
Montserrat Tutor in 1971, has performed in several overseas countries, in local
hotels annually, and is still vibrant.
It is not clear that the importance of building this kind of cultural infrastruc-
ture through the arts is always appreciated even by central university authorities.
Not only are the creative arts inherently educative, promoting as they do imagina-
tive and divergent thinking, but for a people coming from slavery and imperialism,
they are critical in our quest for self-definition and real sovereignty
While the arts should not be distorted to suit the "former masters' gaze"
their earning potential in tourist economies which ought to place premium on
authentic home-grown entertainment, should not be overlooked. In fact lan Boxhill
has correctly shown that major Caribbean festivals such as Sunsplash in Jamaica,
Crop-Over in Barbados and Carnival in Trinidad are major tourist attractions and
consequently substantial earners of foreign exchange.12 This is also true of
Montserrat and St. Kitts-Nevis with their versions of carnival at Christmas, Antigua
\with its 'summer' carnival and the Windward Islands with carnival in their culture.











Boxhill was writing on the economics of music and music reggae, calypso, pan,
folk Folk is the soul of these festivals but other arts such as designing, drama and
dance are very much in evidence. Some extra-mural Centres can justly claim to
have contributed to the development of the arts in their countries and consequently
to economic development through the arts. In some cases it was the Centres
which provided the energy for the development of the creative arts in the country
The establishment of extra-mural centres brought a certain level of intellec-
tual quality to the territories. Apart from the intensification of intellectual activities,
the heightened university presence found expression in other efforts. The RT
became an apostle of higher education, counselling high school students on
university entrance and higher education. Scholarship committees were set up to
raise funds for university education at a time when there were a few scholarship
donor agencies. RTs were utilized as advisers to governments, and many served
on important committees including public service commissions. Through newspa-
per comments and analyses and radio programmes, RTs stimulated thought and
discussion on social issues. For instance, in 1967-68, the RT gave a series of eight
broadcast on the main features of St. Kitts-Nevis-Anguilla constitution, around the
time of the attainment of statehood.
Publications were thin and uneven, but this was another means by which
the Department helped to raise the intellectual consciousness of Caribbean socie-
ties. The St. Vincent RT was editor of Vincentian magazine Flambeau in the 1960s
and the RT of Belize was editor of the Belize Journal. St. Lucia and Montserrat
instituted the louanaloa and Alliouagana series respectively which were booklets
dealing with science, literature and history. Publications of one kind or another an
adult education directory in Antigua, folk tales in Grenada, poems and periodicals
in St. Vincent have been put out in the territories. And some scholarly articles by
RTs have appeared in regional and international journals. The quality of Douglas
Hall's seminal work, Five of the Leeward 1834-1870 (1971) was not attained but it
has served as an inspiring model and a number of territorial volumes are emerging.
Change and Challenge
This final period is the period of university restructuring in the direction of
decentralization, the period of development in tertiary educational institutions, the
advent of the Caribbean Examinations Council (CXC) and the period of UWI
external studies programme in the territories. It is also the period of severe
economic downturn. All of this inevitably impacted both positively and negatively
on the service of the Extra-Mural Department to the NCCs.
The introduction of the 'Challenge' programme in 1977 whereby students
in the territories are able to study for the first year university examinations in arts
and general sciences, social sciences and law, and complete certificate courses in











public administration, business administration and introductory legal studies, was
the most significant development in extra-mural work in this period. These external
studies aided by a UWI distance teaching mechanism (UWIDITE, itself an innova-
tion) resemble both the London University overseas studies programme and the
Open University, but is a unique design overall. It brought the University to the
people at a 'respectable' level and gave to RTs, who felt they were being perceived
as second class citizens of the university's academic community13 a needed
change of image. They were now administering and in some cases teaching
undergraduate courses.
The existence of UWIDITE equipment in the centres has amplified the
process of bringing the University to the people. Lectures and courses suitable for
professionals, such as doctors, health workers and teachers and even for sixth
former are offered through the system.
The introduction of 'Challenge' coincided with the phasing out in many
cases, of the 0- and A-Level class programme. Government institutions and other
persons were providing these courses, and they came to be regarded as less than
respectable university work. What has emerged really is a new emphasis, almost
a new concept in extra-mural work. It is the mediation or mounting of university
level courses and these could either be academic or vocational.
The prestigious 'Challenge' programme may have become the pivot of
extra-mural work, but it was dogged by many problems in its first decade. Coming
on board rather incidentally, 'Challenge' lacked a sound institutional base in the
university At the outset, some University administrators saw it as something of an
intruder which must not be allowed to become an undue burden on the University's
resources.14 Although 'Challenge' moved from this non-status to being respect-
ably reported by a Vice-Chancellor as having "proven very successful as an
instrument of the University's outreach" 15 problems of funding, infrastructure and
bureaucratic uncertainties had remained for sometime.
In recent years, however, the major problems have been tackled. The
Challenge or distance education programme has been given stable institutional
underpinning. It is administered through a Distance Education Centre headed by a
Director; and in addition it is served by an Advisory Board comprising senior
decision makers of the University, chaired by the Pro-Vice Chancellor for Academic
Affairs and has representation from RTs. This structure will ensure consistent
central attention. Already with the support of participating governments, the Uni-
versity has secured a major loan from the Caribbean Development Bank for the
upgrading of the distance education programme.
'Challenge' (now Distance Education) is the dominant programme cur-
rently, but old faithfuls like the public lecture and creative arts still occupy important












niches. Inspite of competition with television, the public lecture is still a useful way
to gather people together to dispute and deliberate around social issues. A good
example was the round of discussions in 1988 on the proposed Organisation of
Eastern Caribbean States (OECS) union, with Mr William Demas, a former Secre-
tary General of CARICOM and a former President of the Caribbean Development
Bank as the main presenter
Given the often unprogressive attitude of some governments to the arts,
reinforced by the reluctance of aid agencies to accredit them with developmental
value, there continues to be scope for voluntary community efforts in this field. And
the continuing role of the Extra-Mural Centres especially in promoting excellence,
as well as an understanding of the role of the arts in development and the
attainment of sovereignty is critical. Making a similar point elsewhere, I have
spoken of the need to explore 'the historico-cultural environment of the arts, and
changing forms and genres as these relate to the pursuit of excellence"16 and I may
add, to real development.
That some territories have built up something of a tradition in some areas
of the arts and some level of infrastructure, is due in a large measure to UWI
extra-mural work. Even with fitful efforts in the territories and less than adequate
support from the "Centre" much has been accomplished. With the judicious
deployment of staff tutors from the Mona Jamaica campus or indeed using regional
human resource, more can be accomplished.
Conclusion
Judged against the wide goals set for the Extra-Mural Department, palpa-
ble achievements in the NCCs would seem moderate. But when the allocated
resources are taken into account, much has been achieved. Figures presented by
Dr Patrick Emmanuel indicate that just under 2.0 per cent of the UWI total
expenditure for the year 1980-81 was spent on the Department, and he does imply
that the quantum spent on each NCC may be very small indeed.17 On the function
of representing the university locally and carrying out general counselling and
registrarial work, there can be no doubt that the Centres have served the university
well. Where there is doubt is on the extent to which the Department has fulfilled in
the territories those functions concerned with promoting personal and national
competence and social cohesion functions stated by Sherlock in 1956 and
detailed in the University Calendar 1986-87 18 One agrees with Emmanuel that
"over time, the scope and quality of service provided by the local Extra-Mural
Centres have tended to fluctuate" 19 This unevenness is, in my view, partly a
function of the vision and vigour or individual RTs and partly a function of the
slimness of available resources. While there are general guidelines within which
RTs work, their particular agenda is self-determined based on their own interpreta-











tion of the continuing education needs of their territories. Their ability to meet those
needs depends largely on their personal competence and on the human, financial
and other resources at their disposal.
Unevenness of the quality of the work of Extra-Mural Centres over time
and space one can agree with, but when Emmanuel speaks of the "ineffectiveness
of the Centres" 20 a more searching evaluation seems needed to justify that
assessment. Extra-Mural Tutors have run academic courses, mounted ad hoc
seminars and workshops, held public lectures and rendered public service in
multifaceted ways in the territories for four decades. The Centres have even
provided a small number of persons with practical life skills and have promoted the
creative arts to the point, in some cases, where they have some economic impact
nationally, as we noted in the case of St. Lucia and Montserrat.
The contribution of traditional programmes such as radio and panel discus-
sions, and public lectures should not be underestimated. The development of a
sense of intellectual inquiry and objective questioning associated with these exer-
cises, is an essentially educative activity This is what A. Pearse, an early RT
described, one suspects, as "objective disputation...objective discussion of ideas"
and the judging of values.21 This is vital for a people who have not been fully
liberated from the 'psychology of dependence' in a region in which even what
counts as valid knowledge had to be determined and legitimized by outsiders.
The external studies programme has made a most encouraging start in
some territories, but it has also served to highlight and aggravate the shortage of
resources at the Centres and the rigidity of some of the university's regulations.
Now that the external studies programme has been rationalized and given a stable
institutional base in the university, some of the problems are on the way to being
solved as we enter what amounts to a new era of extra-mural work.
The future is challenging as the Extra-Mural Centres move into traditional
higher education while retaining customary programmes. It is challenging as we
grope for a new basis of partnership with government, themselves busy building
tertiary institutions as part of their growing nationalism. But there is still much to
celebrate. The University has something to show of infrastructure, institutions and
honed minds and imaginations for its forty years outside the walls. It may not have
built nations, for it did not have the resources but it built important bricks for nation
building.














References


1. Sir James Irvine, Report of the West Indies Committee of the Commission on higher Education in
the Colonies, London, HMSO 1945.
2. Thomas Kelly, Outside the Walls, Manchester, Manchester University Press, 1950, p.12 (A quote
from an 1891 memorandum).
3. P M. Sherlock, "The Extra-Mural Work of the College", Pelican 1956, pp.15-16.
4. Thomas Kelly, op cit.
5. P M. Sherlock, op cit.
6. Andrew Pearse, "Outside the Walls" Caribbean Quarterly Vol 2. No.4, 1952.
7 F W. Case, in "Extra-Mural Notes" Caribbean Quarterly, Vol. 1, No.1, 1949.
8. University of the West Indies, Vice-Chancellor's Report 1965-1966, p 65.
9. T W. J. Taylor, "The University College of the West Indies" Caribbean Quarterly, Vol. 2, No.1, p.14.
10. Annual Report 1964-65, Extra-Mural Department, Montserrat, p. 7
11. Annual Report 1972-73, Extra-Mural Department, St. Lucia, p. 11
12. I. Boxhill "Music and Economic Development" Money Index (Jamaica) April 27 1993.
13. H. A. Fergus, "Challenge Examinations in the Lesser Developed Countries of the English-Speak-
ing Caribbean", Bulletin of Eastern Caribbean Affairs, Vol.7, No.5, 1981, p.28 ISER, UWI
Barbados.
14. A.Z. Preston, Vice-Chancellor's Report to Council, March 1984, p.13.
15. H.A. Fergus, "The Role of the University of the West Indies Centres in Non-Campus Territories"
Bulletin of Eastern Caribbean Affairs, Vol.12, No.6 ,1987, p. 49, ISER, UWI Barbados.
16. Ibid, p. 50.
17 P A. Emmanuel, The Eastern Caribbean, The University of the West Indies and Tertiary Educa-
tion Development: A Report, St. Lucia, The Secretariat of the Organisation of Eastern Caribbean
States, 1983.
18. Calendar Vol. I 11986-87, University of the West Indies, pp.152-153.
19. P A. Emmanuel, op.cit
20. Ibid p.28.
21. A. Pearse, op cit pp. 47-48.












Perceptions of UWI (Mona): A View from the Managerial
Elites


by


ANTHONY HARRIOTT


The University of the West Indies (UWI), like many universities internation-
ally, is presently engaged in a process of restructuring itself This process is in part
driven by an increasing social demand for more accessible and relevant university
education on one hand, and an increasing resource deficit on the other These
reforms may be better managed and directed if informed by the perceptions of
Caribbean publics regarding the role and impact of the UWI.
In 1982, Stone did such a report on the attitudes of the Jamaican mass
publics to the Mona campus of the UWI which was published in Caribbean Quar-
terly [Stone 1983]. This study seeks to measure the changes in the public image of
the UWI since then and to examine the sources of these change. It extends
Stones' [1982] work by exploring more fully the expectations the Jamaican public
has of the UWI especially with regard to the preparation of students, and evaluates
the extent to which these expectations are met. This is essentially a study of
image (and does not attempt to provide elements of a needs assessment or a
market survey).
Approaches to University Reform
There are two basic conceptions of university reform. These are the
"Humanist" and "modernist" perspectives. The former regards social-cultural
needs as the driving force of the reforms and the latter economic needs. For the
former the university graduate should be able to play a wide variety of public roles,
engage in creative problem-solving, and contribute to the production of knowledge.
As Emmanuel [1993] correctly notes, the British colonial variety of this approach
which was adopted by the UWI, sought to produce a generalist intellectual rather
than a technical specialist, and was oriented to the transfer of academic disciplinary
knowledge with the humanities focused on normative issues.
The British model is essentially about elite reproduction often coded as
leadership-training in social skills and character conditioning. In the Jamaican
context this weakness sometimes translates into status and credential acquisition.
On this trajectory we may well find ourselves falling between two stools like a
number of other struggling developing countries with a surplus of persons with
numerous academic titles but having neither knowledge-creating competence nor












the capacity for initiating innovation. The basic criticism of this approach is the
disconnection between university education and the production process [see Stone
1982].
For the "modernists" the primary mission of the university is to meet the
needs of the labour market and service the economic production process. From
this perspective, university education therefore ought to be organized around the
delivery of specialized practical (not academic disciplinary) knowledge and the
transmission of technical not social skills. Their concern is narrowly with economic
development. Education, it would be argued, must be instrumentally validated.
In Jamaica these two positions currently take institutional shape in the
polytechnic (The University of Technology, formerly the College of Arts, Science
and Technology, CAST) ) and the university (UWI). Polytechnics (including U-
Tech) are however being forced to broaden their curricula and move in the
direction of universities and vice versa. This divide between training and education
is seen by many as unnecessary and falsely contrived [see Emmanuel 1993]. The
society needs both and the boundaries are best transcended within the same
institution. Robotham correctly argues that the role of the university should be to
build an ethic of social responsibility and Caribbean commitment, a pedagogy
fostering greater intellectual autonomy, as well as strong technical and analytical
competencies [Robotham 1996:6]. The emphasis here is on a new synthesis; a
socially responsible innovativeness. It is suggested that universities should be
organized around the transmission and production of three types of "mission-
oriented" knowledge: a) the knowledge required as citizen and human being b) the
knowledge required for a speciality or profession c) the knowledge required to
conduct research and advance knowledge itself [Borrero 1993].
Regardless of the approach, there seems to be a general support for
reform and some common concerns which are reflected in the wider university
reform movement including the following relevance, interdisciplinarity, account-
ability, democratization and participation, increased responsiveness to society, and
administrative efficiency
Method
Although intended as a replication study, some modifications to Stone's
research design proved necessary as the resources available to complete the
project was very limited. Unlike in the case of Stone [1982] when a national survey
was done, our population was restricted to the managers of private and state
sector agencies located in the Kingston Metropolitan Area and employing at least
five UWI graduates. Comparisons therefore ought to be restricted to the manage-
rial sub-sample in the Stone [1982] survey. Even then, the comparability of the











data remains somewhat problematic as Stone did not give a precise operational
definition of what he meant by the managerial group.
The sample frame was developed from lists of companies and state
agencies provided by the Statistical Institute of Jamaica, the Private Sector Or-
ganization of Jamaica, the Jamaica Chamber of Commerce and the Jamaica
Manufacturers Association. Some 101 companies fitted the established criteria.
The sample population was then defined as the occupants of three designated
posts within these institutions the Personnel manager, the CEO and one other
senior manager This yielded a population of 303 managers.
At the level of the institutions, the resulting population profile was as
follows: 55% were private sector, 36% private and 9% cultural-educational. Some
37% of these institutions employed 5-10 UWI graduates and 38% employed more
than 20. At the level of the individual respondent, 82% were university educated
with 51% having UWI degrees only and another 25% both UWI and foreign
university credentials. Some 9% were CAST educated (N=188). Most were up-
wardly mobile and much better educated than the preceding generation of manag-
ers. A significant proportion were relatively young with 46% being less then 42
years old. Importantly for our analysis, some 67% were direct supervisors of UWI
graduates. Moreover, the vast majority were highly informed about the society and
the UWI and were generally competent respondents.
The data collection was done between late March and April 1996. There
were some cases of intellectual dishonesty by some student-interviewers resulting
in a number of questionnaires being discarded. Despite these problems the
response rate was fairly high (62%, N= 188). There were no observable social
patterns to the non-responses. The rejections (which were fewer than is usually
the case in elite surveys) had less to do with attributes of the respondents and more
to do with the social skills of the interviewers in negotiating with busy respondents
for thirty minutes of their time. The data may thus be taken as representative.
Findings
The main findings of the survey were as follows:
1 Using the Stone report [1982] as the point of reference, the image of the
UWI and the extent of support for it among the managerial elites has improved
significantly
2. The UWI is rated favourably in comparison with its foreign and local
competitors in the field of undergraduate education.
3. The central problem with the UWI was seen as insufficient applied
research and continued poor integration of its intellectual production with the
economic processes and poor preparation of students for the job market. While












this general concern has persisted, this represents a shift in its concrete expression
from the earlier concerns with left-wing indoctrination of students reported by Stone
in 1982.
4. The expectations of the role of the UWI more closely approximated the
humanist model of university education but with greater emphasis on functionality
and technical competence i.e. on innovativeness. Some 39% of the sample
expected the UWI to primarily provide critical thinkers, 23% trainable persons, and
16% leaders. Only 19% expected the UWI to provide trained "up and running"
employees.
5. The data suggests a high level of commitment to local tertiary education
expressed in support for increased public funding of the University to ensure its
expansion.
Discussion of Findings
For the remainder of the report the data in support of the findings listed
above will be presented. The general rating of the UWI and its comparative
standing viz a viz its local and foreign competitors is first discussed. This is followed
by a description of the evaluation of the quality of the graduates. Finally, the fit of
the data to the two basic models (humanist and modernist) is discussed.
The UWI enjoys a fairly good rating as an undergraduate teaching univer-
sity On a scale of 10-1 where 10 is excellent and 1 poor, its "overall contribution
to Jamaica" was rated as good (7.8). This is incrementally better than the rating of
1982 [Stone 1982]. Public sector managers were more generous in their evalu-
ation (8) than their private sector counterparts (7 7). Interestingly, the cultural elite
(to the extent that it was represented in the sample as heads of educational
institutions in the main) gave the institution the worst rating (6.9).
This generally favourable rating seems to rest on the view that the primary
function of the university is the education and training of its students. The teaching
was the most highly rated function (7.39) and the academic staff was held in high
esteem (7.81). Consistent with this, the faculty was rated fairly high for encourag-
ing intellectual autonomy (6.9) and ensuring disciplinary competence among
graduates (6.7 for the humanities and 7.3 for the professions). Graduates of the
Medical Faculty in particular were highly rated.
The main areas of dissatisfaction were with (a) the research output (b)
community service and (c) as noted earlier, the poor integration of academic
programmes with the production process. These areas received the lowest rating
The research output of both the humanities (6.6) and the natural sciences (6 6)
wase rated as fair. This however represents an improvement on 1982 when












according to Stone the level of research was rated as poor (4) by both the
managerial and professional groups.
Respondents were more appreciative yet more critical and impatient of the
research capabilities of the UWI. The importance of the UWI's research pro-
gramme was emphasized by Lewis [1960] during his tenure as Vice-Chancellor, in
his first address to students in 1960 he observed:
...the college (UCWI) doesn't exist merely to
teach students. This is a centre for research, and
every country needs to spend money on research
into its problems, whether it has students or not.
For example, the Institute of Economic and Social
Research was established here twelve years
ago, without a single student of economics, and
every one of the West Indian governments is
grateful for the fine work which it has done. Even
if we sent all the medical students away, we
should still have to keep the specialist doctors,
who eat up a large part of our budget. The college
has an outstanding record in pharmacology, and
in contributing to our understanding of malnutri-
tion, which is one of the major problems of our
people, and its effects on pregnancy, on liver
disease, and on heart disease. All this and other
medical research must be continued, whether
there are students or not [Lewis 1960].

Today research is more widely regarded as vital to the national develop-
mental project. This view is informed by the successes of the newly industrialized
Asian countries in particular Singapore where the universities as part of their
system of tertiary education were re-organized to improve the quality of applied
research aimed at solving key developmental problems. According to Thurow, it is
the "man-made brain-power industries" such as biotechnology microelectronics
telecommunication and computers that are likely to grow and to dominate the more
advanced economies of the next century [Thurow 1996:67]. Consistent with this,
the Jamaican public, or at least the more informed sections of it, are not content
with the view that only the developed world can afford to have research-oriented
universities and that we should be satisfied with teaching institutions and skill
training centres geared to the production of a workforce for low skills service and
manufacturing industries (or on the other hand, the production of highly creden-
tialed talkers and critics). The reputation of the university and future evaluations of




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